"Jaclyn?"
He remembers me. It took a moment, but he remembers me. Even after six years. Why am I so pleased with this new information?
Nick gives me a lopsided smile, showing off his dimpled cheek. "Long time no see," he says breezily.
"Understatement of the year," I mutter under my breath. I make a move to leave, but someone shoves me, and I stumble. Nick catches me again, but this time I quickly brush off his hands.
Nick sighs audibly when he sees who pushed me. “Hannah. What’s up?”
Hannah’s giggle is more like a shriek, and it's a piercing sound. "So," she says flirtatiously. "What's new with you?"
A flash of discomfort crosses Nick's face, but it's gone in an instant. I guess he's used to these types of encounters. "I've just been cruising through life, I guess. What about you, Hannah?"
If that girl's eyes get any bigger, they're going to pop out of her head. "Well, nothing has really changed, but I run track in the spring and do volleyball in the fall!" There's a pause, but I know there's more. There's always more to her, though I am not expecting what comes out of her mouth next. "You should come to one of my games!" She really is not holding back today.
Nick has a dumbstruck expression, and I have to suppress a laugh from bubbling out of me. He grins sheepishly, and rubs the back of his head. "Well, I might be a little too busy to make it."
Hannah's smile drops off her face as if she learned that her grandma just died. "Why?" she asks, a pout quickly taking over.
"I—um," Nick stutters, still rubbing his head. "I need to go to my girlfriend's games. That's kind of what boyfriends have to do, you know?" This information doesn't necessarily shock me, although I'm surprised he didn't bring it up before Hannah got the chance to try and court him. My gaze lands on Hannah, eager for a response.
Rather than stomp her feet and cry the way she usually does when she doesn't get her way, she pastes on a tight smile, her lips practically a line. "How cute," she says. "Now, if you don't mind, my boyfriend is probably wondering where I am." I watch as she walks off.
After she disappears up into the bleachers, I turn back to Nick. "What's her name?" I ask.
He startles and looks down at me. "Who? Hannah?"
"No, stupid," I say, rolling my eyes. "Your girlfriend. You do have one, right? You weren't lying?" He hesitates, and I let a grin spread over my face. "You are such a liar!"
"Am I really that easy to read?" He finally drops his hand from his head. I can't help but notice the mess of dark cinnamon brown hair he’s left behind, and I fight the urge to pat it down. He says, “Hannah hasn’t changed much, has she.”
It’s less of a question and more like a statement, so I don’t answer. Instead, I ask, “How’s your school?”
“Oh, Ridge Creek? It’s fine, I guess.” It’s a boring answer, and we both know it, but it’s not like school is actually that interesting.
Uncomfortable silence fills the space between us. I desperately search for something—anything—to say to make the awkwardness go away, but I guess Nick beats me to it, because he blurts, “So, do you have a boyfriend?” After a moment, he adds, “Or girlfriend, or partner?”
I gaze up at him, narrow my eyes, and give him a sly smile. “Why do you want to know?”
His face turns crimson, and he stutters, “I—I just wanted—I didn’t mean it like—” He stops talking when he sees me trying to hold in more laughter, and he flushes even redder.
It’s only by a miracle that I contain my laughter, but before I can give him an answer, a loud buzz sounds from my pocket. I fish out my phone to see a text from my younger sister.
Christabel: I’m here
I text back, Don’t you have dance?
Christabel: cancelled!
Christabel: can u find max pls
Me: lucky! Yeah sure I’ll go find him
Christabel: tysm! Tell him I’m at the concession stand
I send her the thumbs up emoji and turn my attention back to Nick. “Sorry about that,” I say. “I have to go now, but it was really nice seeing you! See you around!” I turn and walk away before he gets the chance to respond. Weaving through the crowd of boys, I try to spot Max. I finally see him leaning against the fence surrounding the field, talking with his friends, and I make my way over.
He notices me before I have the chance to call out. “Hey, Jackie!”
I swat his shoulder. “I told you not to call me that!” Max’s friends are staring, as if they’ve never seen us interact before. “Anyway, Chris is here, and she wants me to find you.”
“I thought she had dance,” Max says, though he’s already standing straight and dusting off his sweatshirt. I shrug, and that seems to be a good enough explanation, because he holds out his arm for me to take. This time I punch him. Clutching his arm, he tells his otherwise silent friends, “Catch you later.” Turning to me, he asks, “So, where exactly is Chris? And why didn't she just text me herself?”
“She's at the concession stand. She probably saw my name in her messages first and was too lazy to find yours. I'm not going to complain, though. She got me out of a conversation with Nick Murphy.” 259Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSM21FN77qB
Max gives me a sidways look. "What's so bad about Nick?"
Cheering erupts from the bleachers, drowning out my answer or the lack thereof. Truthfully, I don't have a good answer. It was just awkward. There's no better way to explain it. The two of us walk on the concrete path surrounding the football field. Unlike other schools, there’s no track around our field. It’s behind the school instead. Yet another thing that is weird about Bull’s Horn High, other than its name. I’m not the only one who thinks that our school sounds like a bar; the type with taxidermied animal heads mounted on the wall and a singular bathroom that looks more like a closet.
The stand comes into view along with the scent of hotdogs, and next to one of the brick walls is my freshman sister, Christabel. As soon as he spots her, Max dashes toward her and she squeals as he wraps his arms around her torso, lifting her off the ground. Chris pecks Max on the cheek and they walk over to me hand-in-hand. They’re too cute together for their own good.
Seeing them so happy in each other’s company, a pang of jealousy rockets through me. Why can't I have a high school romance like that?
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