Page 52 of Only Mostly Devastated

Since Thanksgiving? I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since summer. Honestly, it was starting to feel like maybe since birth. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been able to brush my teeth, or make toast, or play guitar without Will’s face popping into my mind like a jump-scare in a viral video.

But. Still.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss.

Did that mean the idea of us—being with me, properly, for everyone to see—wasn’t so scary to him anymore? Could our kiss have reminded him of what it was like when we were together? It had definitely reminded me. Maybe he’d decided I was worth the risk.

I softened the tiniest bit.

Suddenly, he shrugged out of his varsity jacket and held it out to me. “Will you wear this?” he asked. “Just for a few seconds or whatever?”

I didn’t mean to look at it so suspiciously, but my mind couldn’t help but race to see if there was a trap or a catch here. “Why?”

He shifted his weight from one leg to another, giving the jacket a small shake. “I wanna see how it looks.”

For once, I didn’t have a sassy comeback. I crossed my arms over my chest to barricade my insides, which had melted like butter. Peak softness reached. “Really?”

Deep inside my chest, my heart was beating as though it was trying to tear free of bondage. With an embarrassingly giddy grin I took the jacket and slipped it on. I mean, it definitely couldn’t look any good on me—like a Chihuahua trying to pull off a Great Dane’s collar, I imagined—but… okay, admittedly, it made me feel good. So good. Special, even. Like, it didn’t matter that I’d had a breakout that week, or that my cowlick wouldn’t behaveitself, or that I’d never gotten braces when by all means I should have.

None of it mattered, because Will wanted me to wear his jacket, and Will thought I was beautiful.

I lifted my hands awkwardly, the cuffs of the sleeves drowning my fingertips. “Sexy, am I right?” I joked.

He didn’t laugh when he nodded. “It looks great on you.” He glanced around us to make sure there were no basketballers lurking in the shadows waiting to catch us out. It ruined the moment for me for half a second, but then, with this affectionate little smile that made me seriously worry about spontaneous combustion, he held out his hand to search for mine inside the left sleeve. He looped his pinky finger around mine. “I wish you could wear it at school.”

“Me, too.”

I waited for him. This was an in. He could say “wear it inside now.” He could say “maybe you’ll wear it someday.” If he’d just given me something to hold on to, I’d take it. But he didn’t.

Suddenly, the jacket felt too heavy. I started to shuck it off but Will stopped me.

“Can I get a picture?” he asked.

I shrugged, and waited sullenly while he took his phone out. He held it up, then lowered it again. “Can I get a picture where it doesn’t look like you’re thinking of ways to drown me?”

I cracked a smile. “Sorry,” I said, and he crinkled his nose at me before taking a photo.

Once he was finished, I handed him back his jacket. “You should get back in before they notice how long you’ve been missing,” I said.

“Yeah. Make sure you wait a couple minutes before coming back, right?” He looked around us, then stepped toward me. He placed a hand on my chest and pushed me gently backward until I hit the wall, and then, even more gently, pressed his lips against mine.

It was probably a good thing I had to wait a few minutes before heading back inside, because it took about that long for me to collect myself.

When I got back to the table, Will, who’d been making his way through his milkshake soup, waved at me. “Mm, Ollie, I was just telling them about the other day in music class, when Ms. Ellison showed us that YouTube video.”

I sat down warily. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Anyway, it was the most patronizing shit ever, right? Like, it had all these clips of high schoolers comparing pop stars to classical composers. It’s like someone told Ms. E she had to try to ‘relate’ to us more.”

“Sure it wasn’t you, Will?” Darnell asked.

“Not me. Honestly, I find the classical stuff pretty interesting on its own.”

“Oh, God, they’re brainwashing you,” Matt said, grabbing onto Will’s arm in mock despair.

Will shrugged. “Hey, it’s better thanGerman.What a useless language. Who even speaks German here?”

“Yeah, who needs a foreign language when you can just waltz up to people and sing at them?” Matt asked, but he was grinning. That was the thing with Will. Even when he was being teased, everyone was always laughing with him, never at him. He was the last person who should’ve been scared of being judged, when you thought about it.

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