by RH Tucker
Our class together is only two days a week, so I won’t be seeing him until next week. On one hand I want to tell him off for saying such crappy things about my best friend, but on the other hand I just want to ignore him. And instead of having to wait to decide what I’m going to do, he shows up while I’m in the library for my TA duties.
“What’s up, hotness?”
My head immediately snaps up from scrolling through my phone.
“What the hell do you want?” I reply without a second thought.
“Whoa, what’s wrong with you?”
“You’re what’s wrong with me. I found out about what you said.”
He frowns, squinting, as if he’s trying to remember. He probably is. “What I said? What are you talking about?”
“That night at the bowling alley. When I went to the bathroom, what’d you tell Micah?”
“Who’s Micah?”
“Seriously?” My mouth drops. “You don’t even remember my friends? You really are an asshat.”
“Calm down, will you?”
Getting up from my table, I try to keep my voice lower, but I put a finger in his face. “No, I will not calm down. Did you or did you not call my friend fat?”
“Oh.” He rolls his eyes, then starts chuckling. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“No? Then what’d you mean by offering Micah a girl on the side, huh? What kind of asshole does that?”
“Damn, you’re really tripping out about this?”
His carefree attitude about the whole thing is just pissing me off more. “Joe, you offered to hook my friend up with someone else while he’s still going out with his girlfriend because you think she’s too big. You don’t see anything wrong with that? Are you really that shallow?”
He lifts his shoulders. “Hey, if he’s happy, what do I care? I don’t know why you’re getting all worked up over it.”
I can’t help it. I loud slap echoes in the room, as my hand smacks him across the face. “You’re a piece of trash, you know that?”
Rubbing his face, he smirks. “Good to know how bitchy you are before we hook up.”
I move to slap him again, but someone grabs my arm before I can connect.
“Whoa, hey, hey,” Jackson’s voice comes from behind me. “Easy.”
Joe runs a thumb over his lip, and I see his cheek getting redder. “What’s up, Deli?” He looks past me, over at Jackson. “Now I know why you were scowling at me. I thought I sensed something that night you two were bickering. You guys have a fling or something?”
I make yet another move toward him, but Jackson keeps his hand on my wrist. Joe glares back at me, his eyes scanning my body up and down, before delivering an annoyed leer.
“Whatever. You were probably a horrible lay anyway.”
I break free from Jackson’s grasp. Joe bounces away a couple of steps, and I reach for him before being tugged back by Jackson’s arms around my waist. Kicking at Joe, I knock over a chair, causing the few people in the room to break away from their books, and look over at the spectacle. Joe lets loose a smug grin, then turns around and leaves.
Letting go of me, Jackson walks in front and picks up the chair I knocked over. “You okay?”
“No,” I snap at him. “You should’ve let me kick him in the nuts.”
He stares at me for a second before unloading a hardy laugh. “Yeah, I probably should have.” His laughter trailing off, he scans the room. I do the same, and see the others in the room have gone back to their studying. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m a TA in here, remember?”
“Yeah, I know that. But I came early because—” His words cut off and he averts his eyes.
Embarrassment starts building up and I do the same. “You didn’t want to see me.”
“Kind of. It’s not that I don’t want to see you, it’s just—”
“Jackson, why didn’t you tell me?”
His gaze pierces mine. Those dark amber eyes that I noticed all that time ago, and that cleft chin that’d make me giggle when I ran a finger over, face me. I remember staring at him in the past, feeling a connection to him, and I wish I could feel it again.
“I …” His voice lowers, and though he’s close enough to hold me, his keeps his arms at his sides. “You’re amazing, Cindy. I’ve told you that before. There were times I wanted to tell you, but the more we went out, and the more time we spent together, I kept learning just how amazing you were. You are. I know my lot in life. But you can be so much better. You deserve so much—”
“Wow.” I fold my arms over my chest, staring at the carpet. “I just told some guy off for being shallow as hell, and here I am, about to do it again.”
“What does that mean?”
“Seriously, Jackson? You think so little of me, that you not being able to read or spell something would make me change my mind about how I felt with you?”
“No, that’s not what I mean.”
“Really? Because that’s what it sounds like. Why would I care about something like that? I’ve seen exactly what it looks like when someone’s love isn’t enough for the other person.”
“What are you talking about?”
I shake my head, the memories resurfacing of the day my mom walked out on us. I don’t want to get into that right now. This isn’t about that. This is about him. Us.
“I was falling for you. Did you know that? Then you’d sweep the rug out from under me, and I’d curse you and tell Veronica I never wanted to see you again. Then you’d call me, and I’d be there. But you never saw that, did you? You only saw your perceived flaw, and thought I was so superficial that I couldn’t feel something for you if you couldn’t spell my name right.”
Finally looking up at him, he can’t meet my eye line.
“I didn’t think you were superficial,” he says, staring at his shoes. “I was just scared. I told Lucas …” He shakes his head, then reaches into his binder and pulls out his paperwork. “Forget it. Here’s my assignment. I already took the test online.”
Turning around, he shuffles his feet toward the door.
“Wait.” I rush to him, grabbing his arm. “You told Lucas what?”
He keeps his eyes on the exit, releasing a long breath. “One night, after another one of our breakups … I told him I thought I loved you.”
Letting go of his arm, I bring my hand up to my mouth.
Gazing at me, he looks broken. “But I said I wasn’t going to tell you that. He asked me why, and I said, ‘What if she finds out?’ I already can’t give you the kind of life you deserve. He said I was being shallow.” An incredulous chuckle leaves him. “You’re not the superficial one, Cindy. I am.”
Chapter 11
Jackson
“You’re not the superficial one, Cindy. I am.”
I replayed the words over and over again as I went to sleep, and even now, as I’m sitting in the bowling alley. Alex has made a couple of jokes, and everyone is laughing, having a good time. Even the tool known as Joe.
We’re playing them tonight. If our team wins, we get the third-place trophy. They get it if they win, and I get stuck with the bitter aftertaste of watching them celebrate. A random girl hangs on his arm, aimlessly twirling her fingers in his hair. On one hand, I wonder if he did it on purpose, knowing our teams were going to play tonight, and how he obviously figured out Cindy and I went out. To prove he’s some kind of Casanova douchebag and how much better than me he is.
But I try to block it out. It’s that kind of thinking that got me into this mess in the first place. My thoughts always drifting off, comparing myself to others, or what I can or can’t do.
She sticks her tongue down his throat, and I roll my eyes. His team doesn’t pay him any attention.
“Damn,” Alex whispers over to me, handing me a plate with a slice of pizza. “Are we bowling tonight or watching soft-core porn?”
His comment makes me laugh, and I take a bite of my pizza. “Soft-core porn would be an upgrade.
This is like if pornos had amateur karaoke night.” I wrinkle my nose.
He spits out some of his drink, covering his mouth, almost dropping his cup. “Ass,” he mutters, holding back a laugh.
“All right, teams,” someone announces on the loud speaker in the building. “Last game of the season. In lane ten, the Pinheads of Parsley take on Bowling for Ramen, battling it out for first and second place. And in lane five, it’s Subs n’ Slices against the Doctors of Destruction for third place. The winner takes the trophy and the loser, well … better luck next season.”
I’m up first and I walk over to the front of the lane, holding up the ball. I wouldn’t call myself incredibly competitive, but I really want to beat this team. It wouldn’t prove anything in the end, because neither of us are even going out with Cindy anymore, but I’d just like to wipe that cocky, smug grin off of his face.
Staring down the lane, I take a step and swing the ball, letting it go. I watch the ball curve ever so slightly, then barrel down the middle, crashing into the pins, knocking them all down.
“That’s what’s up!” Alex calls out behind me.
“Nice shot, Jacks,” my dad adds.
Grinning, I turn around to find Joe not even paying attention. Whatever. My grin falters when I look past our area. Micah stands at a table, smirks, and gives me a nod. Veronica waves to me. Cindy stands next to her, biting her lip nervously. Her eyes meet mine for a moment, and she gives me a shy wave, before looking away.
The rest of the game, our teams go back and forth, and the score is close, but I keep looking over at Cindy. She’ll quickly glance my way, then stare back at her phone. Micah comes and goes, sitting with Veronica for a little bit, before walking away to a play arcade games. Veronica looks like she’s laughing most of the time, but every once in a while, she’ll see Joe and wrinkle her nose. I don’t understand what they’re doing here. I’m waiting to see if Matt and Izzy show up, since I know Izzy is their friend, but so far, no one else has.
“You guys got back together?” my dad asks, bumping my shoulder. Both him and my mom have met her already.
I shake my head, still feeling confused as I take my ball. “No, I think they’re just meeting up with her friends or something.”
Giving me a skeptical gaze, he turns back around and starts talking to Alex’s dad again. There’s no point in going over and asking what they’re doing here. What she’s doing here. We’ve said all we needed to say.
Throwing the ball down the lane, I narrowly miss picking up a spare, and head back to the bench.
“Hey, I don’t know if you care or not,” Joe’s words stop me before I reach my seat. “But she’s a bitch. You shouldn’t get all emotional over her. She ain’t worth it.”
Snapping my head around, I take a step toward him. “I don’t know if you care or not, but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your opinion.”
He chuckles, raising his hand. “Chill, bro. I’m just saying, she’s nothing to get all sprung over. I’ve definitely had hotter chicks.”
Taking another step, I’m seeing red, even if I’m not with her anymore. Before I can do anything, Alex pulls me back, and I walk away listening to Joe laugh in the background.
“As much as I’d like to see you nail that asshole,” Alex whispers, pulling me back to our seats, “it’d be even better to beat his ass in this game. That isn’t happening if you break your hand on his face.”
I let out a frustrated huff. “Yeah, yeah.” I can’t help but glance back at Cindy again. Her vision’s locked on me, and I know she’s far enough away that she didn’t hear what we said, but she definitely watched the whole thing. I look up at screen above our lane, checking the scoreboard. We’ve got only two frames of the game left to play, and they’re ahead by five points.
The next frame we’re able to take the lead by three, so now it comes down to our last round. I’m up first, and each team goes back and forth, exchanging the lead as we each do better than the last opponent. The nice thing about going first is you get to try and set a tone for your team. But Alex is last.
I’ve added up the scores and the only way we can win is if he nails a strike on all three of his rounds. Taking his first shot, he bowls a strike and our dads cheer him on. For the first time tonight, Joe shows some kind of emotion other than indifference. He scowls at me, then at Alex, who takes his position and bowls another strike.
“You got this, Alex!” I call out to him. He nods without looking back.
He needs this last strike, or we lose. All of us are on our feet, waiting anxiously as he holds the ball up to his face, staring down the lane. Taking his steps, his feet slide to a stop as he lets the ball go. It speeds down the lane and we all hold our breath, as if we’re playing for a million dollars and not a third-place trophy.
The ball crashes into the pins, sending them flying. All but one. It swirls around, spinning on its bottom, and we each lean a little closer, anticipating it falling. Whirling around, it almost teeters to one side, only to regain its balance, and then slow to a stop. Staying upright.
Joe and the doctors all let out a loud cheer, raising their hands into the air in triumph. Joe gazes back in my direction, raising an eyebrow, and gives me one last conceited chuckle, before they walk away and over to the desk to receive their award.
“Damn it,” Alex grumbles under his breath.
“It’s cool.” I slap my hand over his shoulder. “Can’t win ’em all.”
“Yeah, but I would’ve really liked to see that jerk wad pissed off by not getting what he wants.”
I laugh. “You and me both.”
Gathering our stuff, I look back to the table where Cindy was sitting and find them gone. Searching the other lanes, I see Veronica laughing at Micah at the other end, as they start their own game. It’s weird that they decided to come tonight, since Cindy obviously knows the nights the games are on, but I shrug it off. Maybe the last time they were here they had fun and Micah wanted to come back. Who knows.
After I switch from my bowling shoes to my regular ones, I grab my bag and follow Alex through the doors, out to our cars.
“Well, you did score over two hundred,” he chuckles.
“Yeah, but you almost won the game,” I reply.
“I’ll swing by with a personal size if you want. We’ll trade, a sandwich for a pizza.”
“Sounds good.” I give him a high five, laughing.
Gazing past me, he nods. “Looks like you’ve got some company.”
Turning around, I discover Cindy waiting near the entrance of the alley.
“I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah.” I wave back to him, keeping my gaze on Cindy.
Walking past her, Joe lets out a scoff, with the girl he was making out with earlier on his arm. Approaching me, I look around, and see his car parked next to mine. To my surprise, I see Alex still around, too.
“Have fun with that,” Joe calls out, nearing me. Grinning, he looks down at the girl under his arm. “Tiffany here has a friend, don’t you, Tiff?” She smiles up at him, then nods to me. “If nothing else, she’ll definitely be better endowed than the ice queen back there.”
My fists clench and I’m about to swing on him, when Alex steps in front of me, nailing him across the lip. Tiffany jumps back and shrieks, then kneels down to him.
“Damn that felt good,” Alex laughs to himself, shaking his hand.
“Asshole,” Joe hisses out, being helped up by his girl.
“Yeah, whatever.” Alex shrugs. “I’d rather be an asshole than a douchebag like you.”
“Screw you,” Joe yells back and is ushered away by Tiffany. Getting in his Mustang, he spins the tires, screeching them in the parking lot, then speeds away.
“Okay, now I’m taking off.” Alex laughs, still shaking his hand. “Glad I stuck around for a couple more minutes.”
I laugh along. “Thanks.”
Getting in his car, Alex leaves the parking lot, and I glance back over at the entrance.
Cindy’s still there. As I approach her slowly, she crosses her arms, looking down at the ground.
“What was that about?” she asks.
“You dated him; you can probably figure it out.”
She nods. “We only had a couple of dates. I didn’t even—”
“It’s doesn’t matter.” Cutting off her sentence makes her look up at me. “We’re not together, Cin. You can date and not date whoever you want. No matter how much of a jerk he might be.”
“Even if he’s as big of one as you are?”
For a split-second I’m about to roll my eyes, feeling like her reply is yet another step to us leading to an argument. Then she cracks a smile and it calms my nerves. “I never meant to be a jerk. I probably should’ve told you about myself earlier, but it’s something I’ve always kept private.”
She nods. “I get that. But it wouldn’t have made a difference to me, Jackson.”
Her use of past tense is clear. I nod at her reply, unsure what’s left for us to say, if anything.
“Veronica and Micah wanted to finally play a game, so I thought we’d come by tonight.”
“You knew we had the bowling league though.”
“Yeah, I did. That’s why I wanted it to be tonight.” A nervous expression floats across her face, and she bites her lip. “The professor I was assisting for said you signed up for another set of classes.”
“Yeah. It seemed to help, so I figured why not.”
“So, there’s this new part of the course …” Her eyes dart from side to side. “It’s a reading test before you start.”
Finally making eye contact with me, I frown with confusion. “That wasn’t on the website.”
“I know. It’s personal. Before I have you read it—”
“What? I’m supposed to read it right here and now.”
Averting her eyes, she stares down at the cement. “Before you read it, I need to know something. If I knew … about you. If you had trusted me with that before, would you have still pushed me away like you did? Would you have still ignored me?”
Staring at her, she keeps her head low and her eyes closed. I take a deep breath. I don’t want to answer, because me being dyslexic wasn’t the only thing that made me feel not good enough for her.
