“No,” Jack says, not looking at me. I nod and turn back around, running upstairs. My Saturday night is even less exciting than Jack and Tyler’s. I plan to spend it doing homework, except I can’t stop thinking about Ford. I twirl my phone around in my hand, trying to decide if I should text him. After an hour, I finally give in and send him a message.Hey, how are you?
“I’m okay. I’m in Seattle.”
“Jack told me. That’s great you get to go to the football game.”
“I’m excited about the game.”If I’m reading between the lines, it means he’s not excited to be there with his dad.
“Maybe some one-on-one time with your dad will help your relationship.”
“Maybe.”Which means not likely, Ford is shutting down on me.
“Guess I’ll have to go to the bookstore by myself tomorrow. I’ll eat a lemon bar and think of you.”
“Don’t forget the frappe.”
“Oh, I definitely won’t.”
“What books are you buying?”Ford asks.
“I’m going to getGreat Expectationsfor English. Want me to pick you up a copy?”
“Yes, please.”
“You got it, Stud.”I text.
“Thank you. I’ve got to go. See you in English Monday morning.”
“Goodnight. Have fun at the game tomorrow.”
“I will. Love you.”My heart stutters in my chest.
I text him,“Love you back.”With a heart eyes emoji.
I sigh, falling back on my bed, I’ve got it bad.
12. I’m Coming for Ya Baby
I slap my alarm off and sit up, rubbing my hands through my hair and down my face. It’s Monday. I had a decent time with my dad over the weekend. The game was fun. I haven’t seen my dad let loose like that in a long time. It was a rare four-hour period where things between him and me were good—no; they were great. We laughed. We cheered when our team made a touchdown. We booed when the other team scored, and we ate way too much food. I love my dad, but I wish he would listen to me. Hell, just getting in a few words would be nice. I’m so tired of the lectures. I’ve learned to look like I’m listening, but mentally I zone out. It’s easy to do. I just think about Hannah.
I’m glad it’s Monday. Most people dread the first day of the week, but I look forward to it. It’s like a reset for me. A new week of school and football practice. With a game at the end. I like the routine. I get up, wash my face, brush my teeth, and change into my running clothes. Soon it will start staying dark longer, making running outside harder. But I still have several weeks before I’ll have to use the school gym to run or the treadmill downstairs in the basement if I'm being lazy. I do my usual routine, a pre-workout shake and stretching. When I walk out of the house, I freeze. Hannah is leaning against her car, which is parked in my driveway. She’s dressed in her running clothes.
She glances at her watch. “You’re behind schedule this morning.”
“What, no good morning? It’s nice to see you, and…” I look at my watch and quirk a smile. “I’m running five minutes behind.” I jump off the porch and walk over to her.
Her smile gets bigger. “Good morning. How are you?” But then she frowns at me. “That’s five minutes of running we’re not going to get.” She claps her hands several times. “Chop, chop, Cross.”
When I reach her, I wrap my arm around her neck like I always used to. I go to give her a smack on the cheek, but at the last second, she turns her head, our lips crashing together. “Now it’s a good morning,” I say when we break away.
“You can say that again.”
“Now it’s a good morning.” And I kiss her again.
“Yes, very much so.” Hannah breathes.
I take her hand, and we walk down the driveway to the road. “I think you’ve forgotten who’s the teacher and who’s the student.”
“Don’t you think it’s about time I graduate?”
