“Shit,” I say when my phone rings in my pocket.
The smile drops from her face and her lips flatten. I don’t have time to analyze what just happened. I rush to take the phone from my pocket.
Boy do I sigh in relief when I see it’s my mom informing me that my dad will be coming home late. The tightness in my chest releases. Great, not only will I avoid getting in trouble, we’ll have time to really work on the project.
I turn to Jordan and she’s now looking out of the window. Something caused her mood to shift. I sneak a sniffle at my armpits.
Not so bad.
Feeling awkward, I start to fidget with the sleeves of my shirt. I breathe the biggest sigh of relief when we pull up in front of my home. That is until Jordan steps out of the car.
She looks around the trailer park and I want to vomit. I’m sure her home looks nothing like this. The cute sneakers on her feet probably cost more than everything I have on.
I’ve had the same five uniform shirts since last year. I’ve been literally threatened not to grow anymore. Too bad my body hasn’t planned on listening to that.
“We don’t have to do this today,” I murmur.
She turns to me with her brows drawn. “What?”
“We can do this another day. You know at your place or something. I’ll try to get permission—”
She grabs my hand and tugs me forward. “Come on. We’re wasting time. I have so many ideas. We’ll need all the time we can get to plan and execute by Friday,” she says her smile back in place.
I try not to show the relief on my face. I may never have a shot with this girl, but I want to absorb the light that comes off of her for a few hours. If only an hour, I’ll live with that.
Here goes nothing.
Jordan
“You kids want some more Kool Aid?” Weston’s mom asks for the millionth time.
You would think he never had a friend over the way she’s been acting. Although it wouldn’t surprise me. Weston has always been quiet in school and stays to himself.
“No, thank you, ma’am.”
Her face lights up. “You’re so well mannered. Weston, you went and got a pretty little thing with manners as a girlfriend,” she says happily.
I look at Weston and his entire face is beet red. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. I’ve always had a crush on Weston. Some of the other girls at school used to as well, but then they found out he doesn’t come from money. I hate that they call him Scholarship Kid.
Weston is such a nice person. With his blue eyes, dark hair, and those dimples. He even has one in his chin.
He almost reminds me of my uncles Uri, Nico, and Michael in New York. They’re not my real uncles, they’re all handsome. Sure, he’s not as built as my cousins or my little brother for that matter, but Weston makes up for all of that with his gorgeous smile.
“She’s not my girlfriend, Mom. She’s my science project partner.”
“Oh, I don’t know. She’s been giving you the eye.”
Weston turns to me, blushing harder than before. I can feel my own cheeks warm. I duck my head and turn back to my notebook.
“I’ll let you two have some alone time.”
Once she’s gone, I peek over at Weston and he’s watching me. I give him a small smile. If I had been eyeing him, I didn’t mean to make it so oblivious. Sticking my pencil into my mouth is all I can do not to say something stupid.
He drops his eyes to my mouth and clears his throat. “Are you going to that dance?”
I nod and start to get excited. “Yeah, my mom and aunts are taking me shopping for my dress. I haven’t decided what color to get yet. I’ve been looking at hairstyles to try.” I clamp my mouth shut when I realize I’m rambling.
“Yellow or blue. You’re always so pretty in those colors, on dress down days,” he says, red creeping up his neck and face again.
I smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Has anyone asked you to the dance yet?”
I frown. “Yeah, a bunch of guys I’d never say yes to,” I reply, rolling my eyes.
He starts to play with the edges of his notebook while searching my face with his gaze. I’ve never noticed the grey in his eyes. Up this close, I can see all the colors and hues as they blend together.
“Why not? I mean, you don’t have to answer that.”
I cover his hand with mine. “No, it’s okay. I sort of like someone. I was hoping he would ask me.”
His shoulders sag and his expression turns defeated. I don’t think he gets that I’m talking about him. Auntie Bean says I should be more outgoing.
What the heck?
I lean in and kiss him on the cheek. Weston’s head snaps up and he looks at me with wide eyes. I smile at him and squeeze his hand.
“Why’d you do that?” he asks.
“Duh, I’m trying to tell you that I want you to ask me to the dance. I smile at you all the time. When are you going to get the—”
My words are cut off as he cups my face and really kisses me. I gasp and he slips his tongue into my mouth. It’s my first kiss.
My heart races. It’s not as bad as all the girls at school made it seem it would be. Weston knows what he’s doing. At least more than I do.
He pulls away and looks at me with a big smile on his face. “I… I don’t have anything fancy to wear, but I want to take you. I’ve been saving for the tickets. I’ll get them tomorrow. I mean, if…if you want to go with me,” he stammers out.
“Of course, silly.” I lean in and press my lips to his once more.
We don’t get carried away. I turn back to my books, wanting to do a little dance. Weston Ash is going to be my date to the dance. I want to squeal.
He reaches for me hand and locks our fingers together. Oh my God. Should I ask if we’re a thing now. No, I need to play it cool.
Weston seems to relax, and we get back to our project. Time has been slipping away. When I text my mom, she informs me that the entire family is at Black and Lock and they’ve started a barbecue. I’ll head there when we wrap up here.
Suddenly, light flashes through the window and all the blood drains from Weston’s face. His mom comes out with a nervous look across hers. An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach.
“Is your ride still outside?” Weston asks nervously.
“No, I have to text Shep and he’ll come back for me. He had to run an errand.”
“Fuck,” Weston mutters.
I frown at the foul language. It’s not the first time I’ve heard him curse. Doesn’t mean I like it.
However, that’s forgotten when a man in a dirty jumper comes into the house. He’s covered in grease and oil. I think I remember once hearing that Weston’s dad is a mechanic.
The man turns cold blue eyes on me and snarls. Weston moves as if to shield me. A glance at Mrs. Ash and she’s wringing her hands.
“Who the fuck is this?” the man says.
“She’s a friend from school, Dad. We had a project to finish. She’s just waiting for her ride to come get her,” Weston rushes to say.
His dad looks me over, causing Weston to move to shield me more. I don’t like this guy. He’s rude and the way he looks at me says a thousand words.