“Of course I am, honey. It’s three in the afternoon,” my mom said, her voice coming from the kitchen.
Glancing back at Jaz, I slowly led her through the house, knowing my mom would be nosy and try to peek in my room if I didn’t introduce her right away.
Our kitchen was a wide-open space with lots of cabinets, all of them painted a very light grey. The counters were a black marble, veins of white running through them. There was a large island, where the sink was, along with hanging lights over it. Mom stood in an apron, something cooking in the oven.
“I’m baking a pie for later,” she rattled off, stopping only when she glanced at me and Jaz. “Oh, I didn’t know we’d be having company!” Mom sounded happy; I’d take this over her bad days anytime.
“Mom,” I said, gesturing to Jaz, “this is Jaz. Jaz, my mom.”
My mom moved around the island, wiping her hands on the apron. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had a bit of white smudged on her forehead, somehow. She held out a hand to Jaz, saying, “It’s good to meet you. Are you his girlfriend?”
I was nearly knocked over with the bluntness of her, and I let out a nervous chuckle. “Mom, stop.” Heat flushed my cheeks; I didn’t get embarrassed easily, but mothers tended to do that. Say the wrong things, assume the wrong things. It was something they collectively got together and decided to do, to embarrass all of their children.
“Oh, right. You kids don’t use labels these days,” she laughed out. “Would either of you like a snack?”
Shaking my head softly, I said, “No thanks, Mom. We’re going upstairs to study.” I led Jaz away from the kitchen and to the stairwell, doing my best to ignore the way my mom laughed to herself and said something along the lines of so that’s what they’re calling it.
God. How embarrassing.
Jaz said nothing as I led her to my room, and she continued to say nothing as I shut the door behind us, pretty much locking my mom out. She wouldn’t barge in, but who knew if she’d try to feed us.
“Sorry about her,” I said, hoping my mom seemed normal enough that I wouldn’t have to sit and explain the whole situation to her.
“It’s fine,” Jaz said, glancing at me as she set her bag down on the floor. Her jacket came next. “Your mom seems nice.”
Thank goodness today was a good day, otherwise…well, we would’ve had to go to the library to study, and that invited a whole slew of other problems.
My room was nothing special. I had a few canvases hanging on the walls, a flat screen TV facing my bed, along with the typical bedroom stuff. Dressers, a desk, a walk-in closet. It was normal around Midpark, anyway.
As I watched Jaz study my room, I couldn’t help but wonder what her room looked like. She didn’t seem to be the kind of girl who liked pink fluffy things, and I wondered what her style was like, what her sheets looked like…I should not be imagining her sheets, or what could be done in them.
Nope. Had to get my mind out of the gutter.
“It’s not much,” I said, moving to set my backpack on my desk. I hung my jacket on the doorknob to the closet. “But it’s my room.”
“It’s big,” she said, and then it looked like she caught herself. “A little bigger than mine, I mean.” She folded her arms over her chest—bad place to look, Archer, I told myself—and slowly met those dark eyes with mine. “I don’t like the empty space.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It just feels…like wasted space.” She shrugged. “I also find the houses around here to be ridiculously big. No one needs a house that’s the size of a school.”
I found myself grinning.
I couldn’t say what it was about this girl, but I liked her. I liked her too much.
Had to bring in a chair from the next room over, but I situated us both at my desk. Within ten minutes, I had out our history textbook, along with my notebook. I was able to pull some blank notecards from one of the drawers in the desk and handed them to her. She’d write them down. I knew how our history tests went by now, I knew what was important to know and what wasn’t.
As we worked, I tried not to stare at her too much. The more I looked at her, the more beautiful I found her. There was only two feet between us, and yet it both seemed too far and not far enough. I knew I shouldn’t let my mind linger on this girl at all, and yet…I was like a dog with a bone. I couldn’t help it.
She smelled like fruit, like some kind of berry. Was it her soap? Her shampoo? Was it weird that I was thinking about this while she was intent on writing? Breathing her in only made my mind wander more.
Her black, wavy hair fell over her shoulder, her dark brown eyes focused. Her full lips were parted ever so slightly, and I hated myself for wanting to feel those lips on every inch of my body.
Wrong. It was wrong. I shouldn’t.
But I did, hence the issue here.
“I’ve never studied with notecards before,” Jaz was busy saying as my mind wandered. “Seems like a lot of work.” She extended her arm, rolling her wrist as she held onto the pen.
“It is,” I said, barely able to contain myself. I thought I sounded normal—I hoped I sounded normal, given the fact my mind was currently on what Jaz looked like beneath those clothes. “But it’s worth it.”
I might seem like a good guy, but I wasn’t. Right now, I really wasn’t.
She let out a sigh, her mouth curled into a grin. Jaz clearly had a comeback ready, but the moment she turned her head and looked at me, nothing came out. Suddenly she felt closer than she did mere moments ago.
Wait, that was because I leaned towards her, scooting to the side on my chair to get closer to her.
Our faces were less than a foot apart now; I could feel her breath hot on my face, and my lower gut warmed. I wanted to touch her, but I knew that if I did, I’d throw all rational thought out of the window. Once I touched her, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Which was ridiculous, because we’d just met, but this…the feelings inside me were too strong to deny.
I’d never felt like this before. Maybe it was simply because I knew I couldn’t have her, and that made me want her. Maybe it was because I knew it could never be between us. A terrible reality, but it was mine.
Jaz was unable to say anything, her black eyes dropping to my mouth as her lips puckered. She turned her body on her chair, our knees leaning against each other’s. I had one arm on the desk, the other on my lap, and it took so much restraint from me to keep myself back.
Seriously. Holding myself back had never been so hard.
“You get very serious about your notecards, don’t you?” Jaz asked, her voice nothing but a breathy sigh. I had the feeling she wasn’t talking strictly about notecards, either.
“I do,” I agreed, inching closer to her.
Bad, bad idea. Press the brakes, take a step back. Get up and walk away. Do anything but this.
Did I? Did I stop myself even though that’s what the logical side of my brain was trying to tell me? The answer to that would be a resounding no.
“We should focus on the notecards, maybe,” Jaz whispered, though she didn’t pull away. She didn’t turn her head nor break the spell she had over me. I noticed she leaned in just as I did.