Tied Up in You

by Erin Fletcher

“I made something for you,” Tutu said, setting aside the potential basket and reaching over to the end table.

  “You did? Tutu, you didn’t have to do that.”

  She waved off my comment and slipped a bracelet over my hand and onto my wrist. It was some of the most delicate lauhala weaving I’d ever seen—thin and tight and perfect.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “You really made this?”

  “I really did,” she said. “No matter which boy is kissing you, you are beautiful and perfect exactly the way you are.”

  My heart melted into a pile of goo. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Tutu. So much.”

  “Oh, did you give it to her?” Mom asked, returning to the living room, hands completely full with a plate of cookies and three glasses of milk.

  I helped her set down the snack and then held out my wrist for her to see.

  “It fits perfectly. I knew it would. It’s beautiful, Mom. Really beautiful.”

  “A beautiful bracelet for a beautiful girl.” Tutu winked at me before biting into a shortbread cookie.

  My secret was safe with her.

  A little while later, I doubted my secret’s safety with Izzy when I told her what happened with Jackson and she flipped the eff out.

  “You did what?” she yelled.

  I rolled over on my bed, farther away from the door, and turned the volume down a couple of notches so my parents wouldn’t hear. “I kissed Jackson.”

  “Holy shit, Malina! What about Troy? What is happening? This is the last time I let you go on a double date without me, woman.”

  “It happened after the date, if that makes you feel any better. And as for me and Troy…we didn’t quite hit it off.”

  “I’d hope not since you kissed Jackson!”

  From the FaceTime screen, I saw her flop down onto her bed. One of her ear buds came out with the motion, but she stuck it back in.

  “So, what now?” she asked. “Are you, like, dating Jackson?”

  “I don’t know. We didn’t really talk about it. We kind of left still yelling at each other.”

  “Kinky?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No. I…I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going to happen, but I’m kind of okay with that.”

  “Really?”

  It was a fair question. For the handful of guys I’d dated in the past, I had to know where everything was going at all times. Probably drove the guys crazy. Probably was the reason I wasn’t with any of them anymore, actually. But with Jackson, I wasn’t in any hurry to define anything. Either we’d be a couple or we wouldn’t. It felt like fate, like nothing I could control or put pressure or a timeline on. I was along for the ride. “Really,” I said. “We’ll see.”

  “We’ll see,” Izzy echoed.

  “So how was your night?” I asked.

  “Not nearly as exciting as yours. Babysitting and scholarship applications, mostly.”

  Guilt stabbed at me a little bit. I’d taken too many nights off since Jackson got home. I was behind where I needed to be, but I could catch up. I had to. “Yeah. I should probably go work on those for a while before bed, too.”

  At that second, a text message appeared on the screen above Izzy’s head. I couldn’t see the message of the text, but could see that it was from Jackson. My breath caught in my lungs. My heart rate practically doubled. What if he changed his mind and didn’t want to be more than friends? Or what if he wanted to come over right then and become even more not friends?

  “Hey,” Izzy said, waving a hand to draw my attention back down to her. “What just happened?”

  “Sorry,” I said, dismissing the text with a swipe of my finger. “Jackson texted me.”

  “Oooh, a booty text,” Izzy said, waggling her eyebrows.

  “Gross, Iz,” I said.

  She laughed. “Okay, I should let you go respond to him.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Thanks for listening.”

  “Thanks for providing some drama and entertainment to break up the scholarship monotony.” She paused. “Hey, Malina?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You look happy.”

  I smiled. “I am happy. I think.”

  “Good,” Izzy said. “Keep it that way.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  We ended the FaceTime call, and I took a breath before tapping over to my text messages.

  Jackson: I had no idea that was the way the date was going to end…but I’m really glad it did.

  If he hadn’t been my best friend before this, I might have thought it was corny. Cheesy. But he was my best friend. And I knew he was telling the truth.

  Me: Me too.

  Then I fell back onto my bed with my phone clutched to my chest, smiling so wide my face hurt.

  The scholarships could wait a few more minutes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jackson

  I’d been home from the disaster of a date for less than an hour. Well, the date had been a disaster, but what had happened after the date hadn’t been a disaster at all. While sitting on the edge of my bed, I’d composed no fewer than ten text messages to Troy, but this wasn’t an easy text to send. Not only did I have to apologize for my shitty behavior during the date, but I also had to tell him what happened after the date. That I liked Malina. Plus, I had to say all of that in a way that would allow us to keep working well together on the team and hopefully keep him from slitting my throat with a hockey skate.

  But while my thumbs were hovering over the screen, typing and then erasing over and over again, a message came through.

  Troy: Dude, why didn’t you tell me you like Malina?

  My cheeks warmed, and I winced.

  Me: That obvious?

  Troy: I knew she was your best friend. Didn’t know you were into her until tonight, but yeah. Pretty obvious.

  Me: Sorry for being an ass.

  Troy: Don’t worry about it.

  Troy: Hey, you don’t actually have a thing for Krista, do you?

  Though I’d spent most of the date focused on Malina, I did have a vague recollection of Troy and Krista talking while Malina and I were arguing. I’d thought it had been their way of dealing with the awkwardness Malina and I had created, but maybe there was something more there.

  Me: No.

  Me: Why, are you into her?

  Troy: Maybe. I got her number while you and Malina were arguing. I might ask her out.

  Troy: And sorry, dude, but you are NOT invited.

  I literally laughed out loud.

  Me: Fair. Thanks, man.

  Troy: See you at practice tomorrow.

  Before I could set my phone down, another text came through. I expected it to be Troy, saying something about how he’d be glad Coach was back so Pierce wouldn’t be in charge and kill us all again, but it wasn’t from him.

  Krista: Did you kiss her?

  I couldn’t help but smile as my thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

  Me: Yes.

  Krista: :)

  Krista: Good. I would’ve kicked your ass if you didn’t.

  Me: Sorry again.

  Krista: Don’t worry about it. Everyone in that restaurant knew you two belong together…except you two. Now you know.

  Me: Now we know.

  After saying good night to Krista (who I really hoped would end up with Troy, not only because it would make me feel a little less guilty, but because they were both nice people), I stretched out against my pillows and checked my Snapchats. There was a ridiculous one from Pierce. The filter made him look like a baby and turned his voice ridiculously high pitched.

  “Hey, Jackson,” he said. Then, “Lia, look how adorable I am. Don’t you want to say hi to Jackson?”

  Normal Lia appeared on the screen for a second before the filter found her face and transformed her into baby Lia. She somehow looked even more ridiculous than Pierce. The message cut off while the two of them were still cracking up. It almost made me want to forgive him for the terrible practice.


  Almost.

  I made it through all of my messages and my Instagram feed, but I still wasn’t tired. I clicked over to the NTDP forums. Usually, I was good about responding to fans and answering questions, but I’d been slacking since I got home. Since Malina. One fan who posted regularly to the forums commented on the fact that I was MIA. I quickly thumbed out an apology and responded to a few more posts. Scouts could look at the forums as easily as fans could. The last thing I wanted was a scout thinking I wasn’t completely dedicated to hockey, even if I did have a few distractions right then. Or one big distraction.

  After I crawled between the sheets and shut off the light, my brain still wouldn’t quit. I rolled over and grabbed my phone again. Texting Malina shouldn’t have felt weird. I shouldn’t have felt nervous. It did, and I was, but I hit send anyway.

  Me: Hey

  It took less than a minute for her to respond. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who was having trouble sleeping.

  Malina: Hey :)

  Malina: What’s up?

  Just seeing texts from her made me so energetically happy, I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep again.

  Me: Can’t sleep.

  She sent the shocked-face emoji and immediately started typing again.

  Malina: You can’t sleep? But sleeping is your second best talent besides hockey! I heard that you once slept through fireworks on the Fourth of July.

  Me: Cut me a break, I was like five.

  Malina: Fine. So why can’t you sleep tonight?

  A cheesy response entered my brain—“Because I was thinking about a completely different kind of fireworks! ;)”—but I resisted the urge to type it. Maybe that was something I would say to another girl, and I had said many similar things over the years, but this was Malina. Before I could figure out what I should say, she started typing again.

  Malina: Wait, is it kiss fireworks that’s keeping you up this time?

  I grinned and shook my head. The girl knew me too well. Maybe that was the best part about dating your best friend.

  Me: You got it.

  Me: Can’t stop thinking about you in general, but especially can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

  Me: We should have done that a long time ago.

  Malina: No, because then we wouldn’t have been best friends all those years. Then it might have been just a kiss, not a kiss with fireworks. Maybe we needed those years.

  Considering the fact that I already felt differently about her than I’d felt about the many other girls I’d dated, maybe she was right.

  When I finally fell asleep, it was with a smile on my face and my phone in my hand.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Malina

  I was digging through my locker when I felt someone come up behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and did this kind of melty thing that I wasn’t entirely proud of and probably couldn’t quite hide. How had I ignored my feelings for Jackson? How did I let girl after girl kiss him without realizing that I was the one who should be kissing him?

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.”

  “Can I…” He hesitated. “Can I kiss you?”

  The fact that awkwardness was radiating off him in waves was kind of cute. Instead of answering, I leaned in and kissed him. Goose bumps immediately formed on my skin for reasons that had nothing to do with the temperature of the school hallway. The kiss might not have been a surprise or out of anger, but it still felt right. The awkwardness melted away when his lips pressed against mine, soft and sure. He tasted sweet, like mint toothpaste and everything that was good in the world.

  When we pulled apart, I smiled. “Are you going to ask my permission every time you want to kiss me?”

  “Sorry,” he said, looking down at the ground. “It’s different. Between us. You know? Because—”

  “I know this is a little weird,” I said, “but I’ll save you the trouble. The answer will always be ‘yes.’”

  He smiled and leaned in to kiss me again, this time without asking.

  A sudden voice behind us made both of us jump and pull apart.

  “What the fuck am I looking at? My eyes! My eyes!”

  Relief washed over me when I realized who it was. “Izzy,” I said, exasperated. “Why would you do that?”

  She was wearing leggings, a hugely oversize sweater, and the biggest shit-eating grin I’d ever seen on her face.

  “Because I can,” she said.

  “Nice,” Jackson said with an eye roll.

  Izzy stood to her full height and turned to Jackson, arms folded across her chest. “You. What exactly are your intentions with my best friend?”

  “To make her fall in love with me, knock her up, give her an STD, and then break her heart,” he deadpanned.

  “Jackson,” I said, poking his side. “Don’t.”

  Izzy held up two fists. “I will beat you up.”

  “I believe you,” he said. Then he put an arm around my shoulders. “But you won’t need to, because my intentions are exactly the opposite of everything I just said. Except maybe the ‘love’ thing.”

  Even though we were far from saying we loved each other, even hearing him say the word made my heart swell with hope for the future. I leaned into him. It felt so nice being at Jackson’s side. It felt nice belonging at Jackson’s side.

  “Good,” Izzy said. Then she grinned. “It’s about damn time, you two.”

  “Sorry, but we were busy being friends,” I said.

  Izzy rolled her eyes. “You and I both know a guy and a girl can’t be friends unless one or more is gay.”

  “Hey, we were just friends since elementary school,” Jackson said.

  “Yeah, and look at you now. Sucking face. Burning my retinas.”

  “What,” Jackson said, “you mean like this?”

  He used one finger to tip my chin up. I let my eyes fall shut right before he kissed me, soft and sweet and making me wonder again why we’d waited all those years to do this.

  “Come on,” Izzy said with a moan. “Get a room.”

  Jackson smiled against my lips before pulling away. He was still smiling when I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

  “Sorry, Iz,” I said. “It’s his fault.”

  “I know it is, and I don’t forgive him. But I do get to leave because I have an appointment with Mrs. Braxton. That woman gave me a B+ on my last Shakespeare paper.”

  I grabbed the last book I would need out of my locker and closed the door. “A B+ is good, isn’t it?”

  “No. It’s scholarship season. A B+ is terrible.”

  Jackson leaned against my closed locker door. “Wait, I’m in that class with you. Aren’t you the one who bragged that you didn’t even read Hamlet?”

  Izzy scuffed one foot against the floor. “Well, yes, but that doesn’t matter. I did some damn good writing in that paper. Should have been an A- at least. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck,” I said. As she walked away, I said, “And read the book next time.”

  She didn’t even bother turning around as she waved me off. Sometimes the girl was too smart for her own good.

  I leaned against the locker next to Jackson. He intertwined my fingers with his. One of our classmates shot us a dirty look as she walked by. My stomach flipped. I couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but I did remember that Jackson had dated her. Was that the end of last year or the beginning of this year? It might have been the first dirty look I’d gotten from one of Jackson’s exes, but I knew it wouldn’t be the last. It was something I was going to have to deal with.

  He toyed with the new bracelet on my wrist. “This is pretty,” he said. “Very Hawaiian.”

  “Isn’t it great? Tutu weaved it for me.”

  “She’s amazing.”

  “She definitely is.” I toyed with the bracelet for another second before letting my arm drop. “So, what are you doing tonight?” I asked. “Want to hang out? I think we need to go on a date where we don’t yell terrible things at each other
.”

  He laughed. “We do. Unfortunately, it’s a Terrible Trio night.”

  “Terrible Trio” was the name Jackson had given to the marathon hockey nights where the guys started with off-ice conditioning, took a break for food and a boring team meeting, and then went to on-ice practice. They didn’t happen often, but he wasn’t a fan of them when they did.

  “What time will you be done?” I asked.

  “Nine,” he said. “But honestly, by the time I shower and eat, I’ll be ready to collapse for the night.” He squeezed my hand. “Sorry.”

  My heart sank. I hoped my disappointment didn’t show on my face. “That’s fine,” I said, forcing myself to believe the words. “I have a ton of homework and scholarship work to do anyway.”

  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asked. “I have practice, but it only goes until seven.”

  I consulted my mental calendar. “I have a STEM meeting that starts at seven,” I said.

  He grinned a little. “You know, I think we’re going to be really good at this ‘dating’ thing.”

  I elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “Stop. We’ll be great. We can go out this weekend, right?” I’d planned to spend all weekend working, and I had my scholarship interview, but surely I’d be able to find a couple of hours to spend with Jackson. I’d make a couple of hours to spend with Jackson.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I have a home game Friday night. Will you be there?”

  “Sure,” I said. At the beginning of the season, it wasn’t much fun to go to Jackson’s games. They’d lost over and over again, mostly due to Pierce’s struggles. But he’d turned around whatever the problem was, and they were on a winning streak. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to watch this game from between my fingers.

  “Good. Because I need you in the stands to cheer me on. And we’ll find a time to go on a real date. I promise.”

  “I believe you,” I said.

  Then he grinned at me. Just stood there and grinned.

  A self-conscious feeling made me run my tongue along my teeth, as if I’d missed a giant piece of spinach when I brushed them this morning. “What?”

  “This,” he said, with a little shake of his head.

  “What?” I asked again, still not getting it.