Page 49 of XO

“Remember you told me by the pool that if you could be anywhere it would be far, far away from here?”

“Mmm.”

“Can I come with you?”

Jacob squeezes me tighter. “That was always the plan, baby girl.”

~

For the next week, Jacob stays the night with me. He would wait until lights went out in both houses before silently sneaking out and crossing the road, then climbing the front tree with ease. Each night our make-out sessions became hotter and more heated, and when I was the one ready to break my own ‘waiting’ rule, Jacob would give me a firm no. He understood my desires were getting in the way of my better judgment. I had my heart set on somewhere where it would be just the two of us. Somewhere where the world isn’t against us. And each time he put an end to our making out, I respected him more. Because it’s not as if the boy isn’t struggling himself. I can feel his own desire pressing against me. I could feel the urgency in his touch.

My mother is back to her regular work schedule, leaving Dad and me to enjoy some peace. The night I couldn’t contact him, it turned out he had taken a long ‘drive’ and lost track of time. He’d ended up crossing the state border and kept going until he got whatever it was out of his system before he turned back around and came home. Conveniently, as my mother was boarding another flight. The strain of their relationship makes me question whether divorce is on the cards. The thought alone taking its toll on me. Jacob’s there every second of the way, giving his support in more ways than I could ever imagine.

But then, of course, we have our own battles. And they don’t stop coming.

“A good improvement, Rosie. Your tutorials are obviously paying off.” Mr. Johnson places my most recent test paper in front of me.

“Thank you, sir,” I say, smiling at the ‘B-’ in red pen. Still not where I want it to be for finals, but Jacob’s an excellent teacher. When I need a break from numbers, he distracts me with his tongue. When I need to concentrate on formulas, he sits on the opposite side of the room, a table separating us. Jacob turns in his seat to eye off my results.

“Good job, Reign,” he says, smiling cheekily. “No more make-out sessions if you want to get that to an A.”

“Urgh,” I grunt. “Boring. I’ll need to find me a new tutor if that happens.”

“Hold your tongue.” His hand disappears and finds the sensitive spot behind my knee. I jolt at the unexpected tickle, my leg involuntarily hitting the table.

“Stop,” I beg, through pained giggles.

“Mr. Lynch, both hands on the table, thank you,” Mr. Johnson calls, looking over the rim of his glasses. This draws the attention of everyone in the class which again sets off a string of hushed whispers and no doubt cruel remarks about our obscure relationship.

It had been quite the transformation for Jacob. Not only had he been dating the most beautiful, most popular girl in school, but he was the worshipped football captain. Every day for years, he wore his Panthers’ jacket, but now he’s dressed like the rest of us mere mortals, having dropped it on Coach Carter’s desk, without a glimmer of remorse. As far as Jacob is concerned, that part of his life is over, and while he’s convincingly happy about it, I still wonder if behind the stoicism lays a brilliant actor.

The classroom phone rings, and Mr. Johnson is momentarily distracted as he writes down a message. Jacob seizes the moment. He stands and sits backward on the chair, arms crossed on the backrest. “Keep tonight free.”

I lean forward, drawn in by the mischievous look in his eyes. “Why, Mr. Lynch?”

He inches closer. “Because I want to talk to you about something.” Despite it all, there’s an edge of seriousness to his tone.

“You’ve got me intrigued. Can you give me a clue?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“You’re mean.”

“Just be free.” He leans forward and pecks my nose.

“Ah-hmmm…” Mr. Johnson clears his throat. “While I like the idea that you two obviously called a truce, and I don’t have lab chairs flying across the room, I do draw the line at foreplay in my class. Save it for recess or after hours.”

Feeling heat color my cheeks, I busy myself by tidying my desk.

“For you, Rosie.” Mr. Johnson places a note in front of me. “And for you, Jacob.” He then hands over another note before calling an end to the lesson.

Jacob grunts in frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

He scrunches the note. “Coach wants to see me.”

My eyes widen. “Do you think he wants you back on team?”

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