JAKE
CHAPTERS 7—9

To say Mattie was pissed at me would be an understatement. She literally removed herself from our English class when she found out we would be working on a project together. She couldn’t ignore me forever. She’d have to talk to me. She had no choice.

Which made her furious, but I could have kissed Ms. Aprils. I had my in. My way to smooth things over and help her realize that she should be with me, not that lanky wannabe Darth Vader.

So yay for the project. A project I had absolutely zero time for. Coach wanted extra practice hours from me given my late appearance yesterday. I had to write my speech for the school assembly. I was ridiculously behind on all my other homework, which wasn’t a good plan given that I was in all AP and honors classes. That crap piled up quickly.

When I suggested (rather rationally, I thought) that Mattie do the majority of the project since she’d already read the book, and possibly used my innate charm to try to convince her, possibly even holding her hand in the process, I made everything worse.

And I justified my continually stupid behavior by deciding she was partly to blame given that she’d thrown a major wrench in my plans by running against me for student council president. I didn’t think she’d win, but now I would actually have to make some effort.

Another dumb move by me. My natural charisma probably would have worked with any other girl. Like Simone. She would have fallen all over herself offering to do even more of my homework to help me out.

Not Mattie.

Which was why I liked her.

And now had another thing to say sorry for.

I told Coach that I’d have to skip out of practice early because I wasn’t feeling well, and the only reason he let me go was that I promised to come in for an extra four hours on Saturday. He was particularly adept at torturing us, and his smirk let me know just how bad it would be.

The things we do for like.

I got to Mattie’s house at three thirty to watch the movie, but found myself too uncharacteristically nervous to knock on the door. I just stood there like a complete moron. This wasn’t me. I was known for my swagger. My confidence. Somehow she stripped all that away from me.

I heard the movie start up, and still I stayed put. I couldn’t recall a time when a girl had made me anxious.

Telling my pathetic self to get over it, I rang the bell. I had to do it more than once—the TV was loud. When she finally opened the door, I said, “Hey,” telling the blue robe image to get out of my head.

Mattie didn’t say anything. She still looked furious. She just stepped back, holding the door open to allow me in.

Even though I’d convinced myself to ring the doorbell, I still couldn’t persuade my feet to go inside so that I could have the conversation Mattie and I needed to have. She’d been so mad that morning I wasn’t sure I could prove to her we should be together.

I had to be careful.

“Are you like a vampire that I have to invite in first?” she asked, sarcasm lacing her words.

Now or never. “Before I come in, I need to apologize for yesterday. I had a . . . conversation with my dad that . . .” How could I explain him? I hardly understood him myself. “Well, it ended up with him threatening to not pay for college.”

I expected her to make fun of me. To say something like, “Poor little rich kid,” while playing the world’s smallest violin.

But her expression dramatically changed. “So not a good day.”

Relief flooded through me, giving me confidence. “No, not a good day. And I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know I was a jerk. And I shouldn’t have tried to get you to do the project by yourself today. I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t know what came over me.”

After a few heartbeats she said, “Apology accepted.”

When I asked, “Just like that?” she told me a little about her mom and how she continually disappointed said mother. It felt like finding a kindred spirit. Then we bantered about vampires, and I deliberately walked as close to her as I could when I came inside. And she shuddered when I did it.

Definitely liked me.

Especially given her dazed expression. It took her a minute to say, “Um, the movie’s in here.”

I sat down on the couch while she started the movie back up. She perched at the edge, hands between her knees. I briefly wondered what she would do if I made a move, but quickly decided against it. She was entirely too freaked out. When I leaned a little in her direction, she jumped to her feet and offered me popcorn and soda. I said yes to both.

I tried to pay attention to the movie, but I couldn’t stop smiling. She was in the kitchen banging cabinet and appliance doors. If she didn’t have feelings for me, she wouldn’t be acting that way.

Which she proved when she returned. She handed me the bowl of popcorn and a can of soda and then sat down much closer to me than she’d started. She reminded me of the skittish feral cat my mom had adopted when I was eleven. So I did with Mattie what I’d done with Felix. I ignored her. Focused on the movie. Pretended she wasn’t even there. If experience with Felix had taught me anything, it was that I’d have her curled up and purring in my lap before long.

She did relax and get comfortable. Until what seemed to be her favorite moment of the movie, where the hero guy came for the fiery, smart chick he was in love with (which I was starting to get). Mattie was so wrapped up in it I couldn’t help but tease her about it. To tell her stuff like that didn’t happen in real life.

Then the most boring movie ever finally ended, and Mattie let out a little sigh. “What? I can’t help it. I like romantic movies.”

Bah. Booooorrrrriiiinggg. I knew it wouldn’t win me any points if I told her that, though. “So if I’m getting this right, you can basically sum this movie up in”—I counted the words in my head—“nine words.”

“Nine words?”

“Yeah. He likes her. She likes him. They find out.”

Mattie again protested, not knowing that I had said what I did just to provoke her. To see that pretty pink flush back on her cheeks. To watch how animated her eyes got. I stood up and stretched and noted with satisfaction that her eyes lingered on my stomach. Hah. Definitely into me.

While she sputtered some excuse about why her boring movie was awesome, I went over to her DVD collection. I told her action movies were better.

“Yes, I suppose romantic movies aren’t as subtly nuanced a plot as say, things blowing up and bad guys getting killed.” The spunk was back, and I loved it.

“You just described fine art,” I teased, focusing on the DVDs. “You weren’t kidding about that romantic movie thing. Somebody likes John Hughes.”

When I looked at Mattie, she wore the same expression she had when I told her I knew what manga was. (Who didn’t know what manga was?) I told her my mother, who watched John Hughes movies relentlessly, had named me after one of the characters in Sixteen Candles. “My dad was mad when he found out, but by then it was too late. I tried to watch it once, but . . .” But it had been another totally boring movie.

“Are you serious? That has like only the most romantic ending of a movie ever.”

I found that hard to believe.

“That scene at the end where they’re sitting on his table and he has that cake for her because everyone forgot her birthday and he tells her make a wish and she says it already came true and they kiss? Most. Romantic. Thing. Ever.”

I liked when she got so worked up about things. I had to turn so she wouldn’t see me smile. “Whatever you say. Hey, is that a poker table?”

“Yeah, it’s my dad’s.”

“You play?”

“A little.”

“Want to? We could play strip poker.” I was constantly torn between wanting to flirt relentlessly with her and trying not to scare her off completely. Sometimes the flirty side of me won out.

Which Mattie did not seem to appreciate, given the dirty look she shot me. I couldn’t help it. Her reaction made me laugh. I reassured her that we could play and talk about the project, easing her back over to the we-have-a-legitimate-reason-to-be-together-right-now side of things. I asked about her manga idea, and she ran off to grab her sketchbook.

I watched her go into the hallway. And again banished the blue robe image from my mind. I shuffled the cards to distract myself. I noticed some pictures up on the wall and got up to investigate. They were all of Mattie and Ella at different ages. I laughed when I found the kindergarten Mattie. She was just the way I remembered her. Pigtails, overalls, purple backpack, and the most determined expression ever.

I heard a sound, and, not wanting her to catch me looking at the photos, I sat down and distributed the chips. She came into the room and put her sketchbook on the table, opening it to a page in the middle. I glanced up at her, and she looked like she’d seen a ghost. I realized this was important to her. Really important. I didn’t know why, but I had to tread lightly.

I flipped through the pages carefully. I wanted to get up and hug her, reassure her that everything would be all right. I settled for asking, “You okay?”

“I’ve never shown this to anyone before.” There was so much fear, so much anxiety in her voice that it broke my heart a little. Did she think I would make fun of her? That I couldn’t appreciate her talent? Because she was talented. Really talented. Like, I was sure she could walk out of her house and get hired by a manga animation studio tomorrow if she wanted.

Who had done this to her? Who had made her so insecure, so self-conscious that she couldn’t see how gifted she was?

I tried to smooth things over. I told her the pictures were good. We talked about Y+M, Kishimoto, and Naruto, and that shock was back. Why did Mattie act like she was the only person in the world who read manga or watched anime? I had Cartoon Network, thanks. When I mentioned that her parents must be excited about her following in their footsteps, she said they wouldn’t understand and so she’d never shown them her artwork.

“Understandable.” I nodded. It was then that I noticed that the front pages of the sketchbook had been taped together. “What’s this?” I asked, tugging on the tape.

Mattie leaped across the table like a lion taking down a gazelle. “N-nothing,” she protested, yanking the sketchbook away from me and putting it under her chair. Interesting. There was something she didn’t want me to see. I had to appreciate the fact that she had shown me a part of herself that she’d never shared with anyone before and hope that when she was ready, she would know that she could show me the rest.

We talked more about manga, and where she wanted to go to school. And something about how going to Japan would make her mother happy, which she had no intention of doing. She mentioned UC Santa Ana.

Which threw me for a loop. “I got offered a full-ride baseball scholarship to UC Santa Ana.”

“Small world,” she said, sounding like she was choking. Was she okay? She gave me a small smile, and I figured that was a good-enough confirmation that she wasn’t actually dying.

“Yeah, but a UC school’s not good enough for my dad. Has to be Yale for undergrad and then Harvard Law like my dad and my grandpa and my great-grandpa.” Mattie had shared something personal and private about herself, and I wanted to return the favor. I wanted her to know me. To understand what drove me and why I was doing what I was doing.

Only it somehow felt like too much too soon. I was trying to win her over. To get her to forgive me. I didn’t want to come across as angry and bitter.

Which I obviously did because she asked, “You don’t want to go to Yale?”

“Let’s not talk about that,” I said, trying to smile but failing. To change the subject I asked her about the election. Why she was running. She said, “Why not?”

I wished that could be my answer. That I had entered on a whim. That it had seemed like a fun thing to do. That I was enjoying the entire process.

But the truth of the matter was that I had run for one reason and one reason only—to make my father happy. To impress Yale. To do whatever I had to do to get accepted to that school.

We played a few rounds, and I easily won each time. Her pile of chips got smaller and smaller. Which kind of surprised me. Mattie didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would waste time doing things she sucked at. Was it because she wanted to hang out with me? “Really aren’t that good, are you?”

“Again?”

“Why don’t we make it interesting?” Flirty me had popped back up, and the words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

“What did you have in mind?” Her breathless response made my gut tighten as I imagined that it was just how she would sound after we’d been making out for a while.

I ordered myself to remember why I was even there. “If I win this next hand”—more like when I won the next hand—“you do seventy-five percent of the project.” She looked like Mt. Saint Mattie, ready to blow. I held both my hands up, trying to placate her. “Not trying to be a jerk again—I really am super busy. I had to tell Coach that I was really sick to miss practice so that I could come over here.”

That seemed to do the trick, and her face softened. “Okay.”

“And if you win . . .” I was curious what she would name as her prize. What did she want from me?

Her face flushed just a little, and when her gaze drifted down to my mouth, I knew exactly what she was thinking about. Which made me focus on her soft lips, wondering what they’d feel like against mine. What kind of spark we’d have. I knew it wouldn’t be like when I’d kissed Ella. Mattie already affected me physically, and we’d barely even touched. A kiss between us would be like a lightning bolt in a dry forest.

Total wildfire.

“If I win, you drive me to school every morning for two weeks.”

Not what I’d expected her to say. I tried to hide my disappointment. “Won’t that be a little awkward after elections?”

“We’ll see.”

The idea of touching her again, like I had in class that morning, overwhelmed my entire thought process. “You got it,” I told her. I held out my hand. It took a moment, but then she slid her soft palm against mine, her long, delicate fingers wrapping around my hand. My heart slammed around my rib cage like it was in a mosh pit.

I hadn’t been mistaken earlier. Fireworks.

And I knew she felt them too when she jerked her hand free.

Laughing on the inside, I dealt the cards while she cleaned her glasses, not looking at me. I wondered how long it would take her to break up with that Trent guy.

And much as I wanted to stay there and hang out with her, I still had a lot to do and needed to get home. So I pushed all my chips to the center of the table. “I am all in.”

Unlike a few seconds ago, when holding my hand had visibly shaken her, she was calm and collected. I was glad that she was such a good sport. That she could be so graceful in defeat. It meant that when I beat her for president, she wouldn’t hate me forever and never speak to me again.

“I am all in too.”

I held a pair of threes. She put down three queens.

Three queens.

She won.

I showed her my cards. “I lost.” I couldn’t believe it.

“Yup.”

This still was not computing. “I never lose. Ever.”

“Maybe you should get used to it. For when I trounce you as senior class president.” I found her self-assured cockiness strangely attractive.

But she didn’t seem surprised that she’d won. Which made me realize that she’d known she was going to win. “You were playing me. You’re like some cardsharp.”

Her one-shoulder shrug confirmed my suspicion.

“You didn’t mention that.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“So you knew you would win.” She could have asked for anything, and I would have done it. I wanted to kiss her, but I couldn’t have made a bet about it while she had a boyfriend. I couldn’t make the first move. And I was sure she wanted to kiss me.

Why hadn’t she asked for that? Was it really that serious between her and the off-brand ninja?

I heard the rumbling sound of a garage door, and Mattie’s eyes went wide. “Um, the sun’s about to set, and it’s really beautiful out back on the beach. You want to see it?”

She seemed desperate to get me out of the house. Why? Was there someone she didn’t want me to meet? Was it Guyliner in the garage? She didn’t want him to see us together? That was probably smart given the chemistry between us. I reached out and grabbed her upper arm, tugging her toward me. My lungs went tight when I realized she was so close I could kiss her. I both felt and heard her breath catch.

“You sure a ride to school is all you wanted?”

Mattie swayed toward me, probably not even realizing she was doing it. Like she was as drawn to me as I was to her. Because she was tall, her lips were achingly close to mine, making my pulse frantic. It would have taken so little effort to lean forward and capture them, to sink into the way she made me feel. Her eyes stared into mine, intense, promising. I was about to brush my lips against hers when she suddenly said in a low voice, “The back door is this way.”

I let go and followed her to the back door. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and I resisted the urge to offer my help. We went to the stretch of beach behind her house, and she kicked off her shoes, then sighed as her toes dug into the sand.

And as I’d feared, she immediately tripped over something. She flailed around a little until she regained her balance before I could help. Then she practically sprinted to the water’s edge.

I grinned, following behind her. Deciding I shouldn’t tease her, I stood on her right as we watched the sun set. It was beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as the complicated, real, mysterious girl next to me.

A strand of pink hair flew across her face, and my fingers ached to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. She did it herself before I could.

I wondered what my dad would think of Mattie. My stomach cramped up as I realized that he probably wouldn’t approve. Ella was the kind of girl he expected me to end up with. He constantly sang her praises. She would be a perfect little trophy wife. Like my mom.

Sometimes I questioned whether my parents loved each other, or if they just had a mutually beneficial social and financial arrangement.

If they did, I didn’t want that kind of meaningless, hollow relationship. I’d dated enough airheaded girls to know that for sure.

Mattie interrupted my random thoughts by asking me why I didn’t ever lose.

“I have to be the best. My dad’s always pushing me. There is no room for failure in the Kingston household.” It came out more seriously than I had intended it to. And once again, I found myself telling Mattie something deeply personal and private. Which I was sure she didn’t realize. What was it about her that made me want to talk about what was really going on in my life?

“Do you ever get to just have fun?” She finally turned around to face me, and I didn’t trust myself. I shoved my hands into my pockets so I wouldn’t touch her.

“Not so much.”

“Well, in the Lowe household we believe in work and play.” Her green eyes danced with mischief, and I balled my hands into fists, clenching them tightly. She picked up a massive water gun and tossed it to me, and I barely caught it. “Let’s see what you’re made of, Kingston.”

“Are you serious?” Did she not know that I would totally waste her?

Then . . . she sprayed me in the face. Challenge accepted. “Oh, it is so on.”

Mattie giggled and began running, shooting wildly behind her. She didn’t hit me again, but I managed to get quite a few good shots in. I let her stay ahead of me, trying not to notice how her wet shirt again outlined her shape for me. I tried to focus on how much fun I was having. I laughed more in those few minutes with her than I had in a very long time.

I cornered her near the back of the house and pumped my gun several times as I prowled toward her. When I brought it back up to aim, I realized I was out of water.

Then I was looking down the barrel of her gun. “Do you admit defeat?”

Not where she was concerned. “Never!” Before she could figure out what I was doing, I ran forward and chucked her water gun to the side while grabbing her midsection and pulling her toward me. Mattie stumbled, bringing us both down.

And I landed right where I wanted to be. My laughter died as I looked down at her, her hair falling in her face. This time I gave in to my impulse and gently brushed the strands to one side, letting my fingers trail across her soft cheek. Her hair was silky, which surprised me. I’d dated many a blonde who sported strawlike texture. But Mattie’s hair, I wanted to get lost in it. Run my fingers through it, feel it against my skin. Her breaths came quickly, matching my own. I still wanted to kiss her, but I was struck with the urge to just hold her. Lying on this beach, keeping her close. Stroking her hair. Making both our lives better.

In that moment I realized something important.

I didn’t just like Mattie.

I might be falling in love with her.

What? Love?

It was too much. My throat started closing in on itself as my heart thudded, slowly and loudly. Now I was the one freaking out. I disentangled myself from her and got to my feet. “Uh, I have to go. See you tomorrow.”

I didn’t go back inside the house. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially whoever Mattie had wanted us to avoid. I walked around the side, totally caught up in my own thoughts. It couldn’t be love, right? That was something adults had. And while I was technically a grown-up, I didn’t feel like one.

She also had a boyfriend.

Who currently was not me.

I brushed the sand off my jeans so as not to get my beauty dirty. As I headed home, my panic eased and my breathing calmed. What was so bad about being in love? Wasn’t that what every song on the radio was about? It was a good thing, right?

And maybe if I could convince myself of that fact, I could also convince Mattie.