Senior Week Crush

by Maggie Dallen

  “Here you go.” Dylan shoved a full cup into my hand with an eager-to-please grin and then promptly headed back to the party.

  I looked from the cup full of soda that I didn’t want back to Jack, who seemed to have no clue how much of a weirdo he was being. I couldn’t take it any longer. Setting my cup on the counter, I jerked my head toward the door leading to the deck. “Come with me.”

  I didn’t turn to make sure he followed as I led the way. Surprisingly the party hadn’t migrated outside yet so we were alone on the deck. The stars were out, I noticed. And while it was too dark to see the ocean, I could hear it and smell it.

  I forgot my anger long enough to take a deep breath and revel in the fact that I was on a beach and it was summer and I was one ceremony away from being a high school graduate.

  Then Jack had to go and ruin the moment by talking and reminding why I’d dragged him out here in the first place. “You wanted to talk to me?”

  I jumped. My eyes shot open to find him standing close, closer than I’d realized. His tone was teasing and he wore a smirk. Somehow that settled me. Life was back to normal when Jack was irritating me with his smugness.

  “What was that?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest as I jerked my head toward the kitchen where we could see people laughing and talking through the windows.

  Jack’s brows pulled together. “What?”

  Arching a brow, I tilted my head to the side. “Dylan, why don’t you show Layla where the drinks are.” I dropped my voice in an exaggerated impression of Jack. “Layla, why don’t you tell Dylan all about your Simon & Garfunkel vinyl collection, I’m sure he’ll find it fascinating. Dylan, you like breathing, don’t you? Funny thing, so does Layla!”

  He was laughing by the time I was done and it was a struggle not to laugh along with him. He had a great laugh, and his eyes were dancing with amusement rather than cynical smugness. I had to admit, I kind of liked it when Jack laughed with me. The unfortunate fact, however, was that most of the time I was pretty certain he was laughing at me. Big difference.

  “Okay, okay,” Jack said, raising his hands in surrender. “I guess I got a little carried away.”

  “You think? You’re as subtle as a sledgehammer.” I pursed my lips into a pout but stopped when I saw his gaze drop down to my lips.

  I swallowed and took a step back, suddenly very aware that we were alone, in the dark, on a warm summer night at the ocean.

  In fact, this would have been a romantic setting if I’d been out here with… oh, anyone else, but specifically Dylan.

  “Why?” I asked. At his questioning look, I spelled it out. “Why did you go all OkCupid on us back there? Why are you throwing Dylan at me like I’m a piñata?”

  I was mixing metaphors like crazy but I didn’t care, dammit. I was making a point.

  To his credit, Jack had the good grace to look shamed. He scratched the back of his head and fidgeted uncomfortably under my glare. “I thought I was helping.”

  I didn’t bother to answer, I let my glare say it all. Not helpful, Jack. Not even remotely helpful.

  He sighed. “I figured I owed it to you.”

  I blinked at him. “You owed me more humiliation? How sweet, thank you.” I knew what he meant but I was still annoyed.

  He rolled his eyes. “I meant, I appreciate the help you gave me in Philadelphia and I figured I’d repay by helping you get what you want.” His gaze narrowed on me. “And what do you mean more humiliation?”

  “What I want is an honest connection, not some awkward setup like some sort of blind date from hell.” I flinched at the words. Blind date from hell was so not how I wanted to be describing my interactions with Dylan. How was this going so wrong? I’d been daydreaming about what it would be like when we finally had a chance to talk and get to know one another, and tonight was nothing like I’d dreamed.

  Still, I reminded myself, there was a whole week ahead of us. A week. Plenty of time for a true connection once Mr. Helpful here stopped trying to intervene.

  When I looked up I found Jack studying me, watching me with a surprisingly serious expression, one that made my breath catch with its intensity. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

  So sincere that I couldn’t hang on to my irritation even if I’d wanted to. “I guess you meant well,” I grumbled.

  Jack nodded toward the house. “You want to go back in? I promise I won’t try to set you guys up any more.”

  I shook my head and wrapped my arms around myself as a breeze blew my hair all around my face. I pushed it back and looked longingly toward the house where I’d left my cardigan. As it was I was wearing a cotton flowy tank top with a long floor-length skirt. It wasn’t cold out but the breeze cut right through my clothes. But to go inside meant having to weave my way through the crowd and try to avoid conversations at all costs, otherwise I might never get out. And if I didn’t leave I might simultaneously lose my mind from too much socializing while fainting from starvation.

  I heaved a sigh. It was decided. I’d brave the chilly breeze for some quiet time with a pizza. Heading toward the stairs that led to the beach.

  “Where are you going?” Jack called after me.

  “I need food.” I stopped, cursing as I realized my stupidity.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack asked. I turned to find him right behind me on top of the stairs, like he’d been following me.

  I scowled up at him. “Where are you going?”

  He shrugged. “With you. I didn’t eat dinner either, remember? Why are you stopping?”

  I wanted to kick myself. “I forgot money.” I started back up the stairs but Jack blocked me.

  “I’ve got plenty of cash.”

  “Thanks, but I forgot a sweater, too,” I said.

  Yet again, he blocked me. This time doing so while shrugging out of his gray hoodie. He held it out to me without a word.

  “You are just so helpful today,” I teased. But I did take the hoodie and it was nice and warm from his body heat. Not to mention, it smelled good… like Jack.

  “Food and hoodies are acceptable,” he said as if making a mental note. “But matchmaking is a no-no.”

  I laughed. “You’re catching on.” I led the way down the stairs and we both stopped to take off our shoes so we could walk in the sand. We walked at the water’s edge in silence for a while, which I appreciated. It was almost like Jack knew that I needed a moment of solitude after that party. Or maybe he needed it too. Either way, the silence was calming and comfortable and I let my mind wander as I sank my toes into the wet sand and kicked at the water.

  “What did you mean before by ‘more humiliation?’” His low voice cut into my daydreaming. Leave it to Jack to pounce on something like that, a slip of the tongue. But it wasn’t, really, I supposed. I’d meant it.

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “You know what I meant.”

  “I really don’t.”

  I glanced over and saw him watching me in that serious way again. Too serious.

  He really had no idea. Was that even possible? I shrugged, looking out toward the water rather than meeting his intense gaze. “You always put me on the spot,” I said. “You’re always embarrassing me in front of people.”

  He stopped walking so I did too. But I still didn’t want to face him. This conversation was weirdly intimate. It was one thing to talk about bands we both liked or work on songs together, but this was odd.

  “Layla,” he said my name so quietly I turned to face him without even meaning to. “I never meant to embarrass you,” he said.

  I raised one brow in disbelief even as my cheeks heated with embarrassment.

  “I like to tease you, sure,” he said with a touch of defensiveness, “But I swear I never truly meant to humiliate you in any way.”

  He seemed so genuine, he sounded so earnest, it was hard not to believe him even though everything in my experience told me he was wrong. “What about ‘lay lady lay?’” I asked.

  He sq
uinted at me. “The nickname?”

  I gave a short nod.

  “I thought it was funny. The first time I saw you that Bob Dylan song popped in my head.” He gestured to my sixties-style clothing. “I figured if anyone would get a lame Bob Dylan joke, it would be you.” He grinned. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only other person in our class who even knew what song I was referring to.”

  That was probably true. I wasn’t ready to let it go yet, though. “What about at Beth Webster’s party?”

  He blinked at me uncomprehendingly and I bristled at the fact that he didn’t even remember the moment that I’d been stewing over for ages. “You sang it when I came into the room and everyone was staring.”

  He looked shocked and then… something else. Amused, almost, but not in a smug way. More like he was laughing at himself. “I just…” He cleared his throat. “I saw you and I, uh…” He looked away, noticeably uncomfortable. “I just wanted you to know that I saw you there.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I saw you. There was no reason for those words to hit me so hard. There was no reason for me to feel choked up over them. Yet there I was, battling tears as I faced a guy I didn’t even like at the ocean’s edge.

  He broke the heavy feeling between us with a rueful laugh that sounded forced. “I guess I could have picked some other way to get your attention, huh?” He grimaced. “But I promise, Layla, I was never making fun of you with that stupid nickname. I didn’t realize you hated it so much.”

  I kicked at the sand. Well, now I felt like an idiot. I’d read way too much into that nickname and the way he’d shouted it out. I’d thought he was trying to put me on the spot, but maybe he was just trying to thrust me into the limelight. My mind flashed to me on stage in Philadelphia. Sometimes it seemed like that was his mission in life.

  “I just…” He stopped and then cleared his throat. “I just think it’s a beautiful song.”

  My gaze shot up to meet his. Don’t ask me why but what he said and how he said it sounded… off. Like while he was talking about the song, his voice said something different. As if there was a subtext there that I couldn’t read, a message that I couldn’t decipher.

  When my eyes met his I was sure of it.

  But as quickly as the moment happened, it passed.

  “Come on,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning toward the lights of the boardwalk in the distance. “Let’s go get you some food.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  We both ate but Jack was quicker. This meant that he sat back in his seat in the brightly lit pizza joint watching me finish my slice as if me ingesting bread and cheese was the most fascinating sight he’d ever seen.

  “I’ve never seen anyone eat so slowly,” he announced.

  I laughed but it came out as a snort thanks to my mouthful of food, which made him laugh in turn. “You don’t have to stay with me, you know,” I said as I took another bite, making a point of chewing as slowly as possible to make him laugh again.

  “And what? Go back to that party?” He reached out and swiped some tomato sauce from my chin. “No thanks.”

  That piqued my interest more than it should. “Don’t you like parties?”

  He shrugged. “They’re all right every once in a while, but they’re not really my thing.”

  “Then what’s your thing?” I asked.

  He shrugged again. “Playing music—”

  I rolled my eyes. “Obviously.”

  “And going to see live music,” he said. Before I could interject with another “obviously,” he continued, “But when it comes to parties, I’d rather just hang out at home with a few friends and watch movies or something.”

  I nodded. “Me too.” In fact, right now I was desperately craving a sleepover with Amy. Too much was happening, between my new singing debut and Dylan and Jack and Stephanie and all the people at the party, my head was spinning and I was in dire need of a night away from it all. A night with Amy where we could decompress and then analyze everything until I got my head on straight.

  But I wouldn’t see Amy until this week was over. Even then she wasn’t getting back from Maryland until a couple days later so I’d still have to wait.

  I hadn’t realized I’d sighed until Jack gave me a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

  Shaking my head, I mumbled my answer, feeling childish and ridiculous. “I just miss my best friend.” What kind of person was homesick for a friend after a couple days? But, in my defense, it was an intense couple of days.

  He nodded, surprisingly serious. “Yeah, I miss my friends from home all the time.”

  I looked up. “Like Mattie?”

  He gave me a small smile. “Like Mattie, and a few others.”

  “All girls?” Whoa, mouth, where the heck had that come from? My eyes widened in horror at that stupid question. What did I care who he hung out with or what their gender happened to be?

  He laughed, though, seemingly not weirded out by the weird question. “Some girls. Some guys.” He reached for my water and took a sip as if sharing stuff was something we did all the time. “Unlike some people, I don’t believe that guys and girls can’t be friends.”

  I guess I’d never given it much thought but at that moment I thought about the people I considered friends in the drama crew and there were definitely boys in the bunch. “Agreed,” I said.

  He nodded slowly. “Are we friends?”

  I stopped chewing, a piece of dough lodged somewhere near the back of my throat nearly choking me before I managed to swallow it down. “W-what?” I sputtered. Reaching for the water, I downed some to get the rest of the food down before I literally suffocated on pizza dough.

  His look was filled with amusement, and maybe just a hint of something sad. Not sadness, but something else. Resignation, maybe. Something that made me want to reach out and squeeze his hand. “Are we friends?” he repeated, slower this time.

  I licked my lips and made a production out of replacing the cap on the water bottle. “Do you want to be?”

  Answering a question with a question, always a great way to deflect.

  His lips twitched with amusement but he nodded with gravity. “Yes. I want to be friends with you, Layla James.”

  My breath caught somewhere in my lungs at his low gravelly voice and the way he said my name. Like we were signing a contract or something. Like we were making this official.

  I cleared my throat and stuck out my hand. “Okay, then. Friends it is.”

  “So what next, friend?” he said, slouching in his chair as if he had all the time in the world to sit here and watch me eat.

  I, however, was growing restless. Now that I had some food in me, I was ready to explore. “Next, we check out the boardwalk,” I said. “I’ve never been to one before.”

  His brows shot up? “Seriously?”

  I nodded.

  He shook his head as if disappointed in me. “You don’t know what you’ve been missing.”

  I didn’t. One hour and two hard-won stuffed animals later, I was a convert. “Why have my parents been keeping this from me?” I asked with feigned wonder. “All this time we’ve been vacationing at quiet beach towns.”

  I was totally kidding, I loved quiet beach towns. But this… I looked around at the lights and the noise. This was definitely a fun change of pace. And, surprisingly, walking the boardwalk with Jack had been fun. Since I was still moneyless, he’d treated me to a ton of games and funnel cake, despite my insistence that no one really needed funnel cake.

  He had a differing opinion. In a super serious tone he’d informed how wrong I was.

  He was right. One bite of the blissfully sweet fried dough and I had to admit that he’d been right and I’d been wrong. He’d accepted my concession with a teasing grin before reaching out and wiping away some of the powdered sugar from my cheek.

  It was the second time he’d done that this evening and the familiar gesture was oddly disconcerting. It was something an old friend mi
ght do… or a boyfriend. He’d been touchy-feely in general—not in a weirdo way, but not in a typical Jack way either. He’d reached for my hand to tug me along when I got distracted watching people on the rides. He pressed against me when we were on a ride—granted, that might have been gravity in action, but he’d still been awfully close, and I hadn’t pulled away.

  It was hard to tell if all this touching was completely normal or if it was something more. Was I just reading into it? Part of me was certain that if that kiss had never happened, I wouldn’t be giving these touches a second thought. But then again, if that kiss hadn’t happened, would we be out here together like this?

  Kiss or no kiss, strolling the boardwalk like this—walking, talking, eating, laughing—it felt like a date. Or at least, what I assumed a date felt like. Yet again, I was the inexperienced one so I had no way of knowing if I was reading too much into the situation or if there was really something more going on here.

  A little part of me wanted to slip away and call Amy, but the bigger part of me wanted to enjoy this moment… whatever it was. Besides, if I called Amy, it would take forever to sum up all that had happened over the past two days. We’d be on the phone for hours and that kind of absence would be hard to explain to the guy who hadn’t left my side since Philly.

  As we headed back toward the end of the boardwalk closest to our beach house, he slung an arm around my shoulders as we navigated our way through a crowd of people all trying to watch some musicians who were collecting money in their guitar cases.

  “We can do better.” His voice was so low and rumbly in my ear, it gave me shivers.

  “Oh totally.” My answer was teasing but it still came out slightly breathless. His nearness was getting to me. I wasn’t used to guys casually wrapping an arm around me and while I tried to be cool…. I so didn’t feel cool. I was keenly aware of the weight of his arm, of the heat of his body pressed against mine.

  He felt good. Comfortable. I had a distinct urge to move closer, wrap my arm around his waist and bury my head against his chest. I bet there were girls that could do that in a cool, casual manner. Mattie would have done it and not thought anything about it.