He fell silent again, and that was when I heard it too: footsteps, clearly approaching the common room. A moment later, a voice rang through the hallway, saying, “Hello, Ms. Moscowitz!”
Crap. Ms. Moscowitz was one of the few teachers who one hundred percent knew my schedule. If she was coming to the common room, I was doomed.
“I can’t get another detention,” I groaned. I put my face in my hands. “Crap!”
Jaxon stared at me silently for a moment before he grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward him. I was so surprised by the movement that I didn’t even have a chance to counteract the movement. I immediately fell towards him as he laid back against the armrest. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close until our faces were mere inches from one another.
“What the heck are you doing?” I hissed.
“What teacher is going to want to stay in the common room when students are making out?” he whispered back. Before I could process his words, he stuck his hands in my hair, ruffling it up. Given the fact that I had spent about an hour doing my hair that morning, I didn’t exactly appreciate it.
The sound of high heels clicking against the floor rang through the halls as Ms. Moscowitz approached the common room. I knew I probably had less than thirty seconds to decide whether I was going to commit to this ridiculous plan or not — so not enough time to decide whether kissing Jaxon Andrews would be worth avoiding detention. At least we knew what teacher was coming; Ms. Moscowitz was known for never giving consequences for PDA, which meant Jaxon was right that this was probably our best chance of getting out of this situation unscathed.
The door rattled as though somebody tried to push it open and it got stuck. The door got stuck like that occasionally, but it was always fixed within five seconds, so that didn’t give me much time to decide what to do. Without letting myself think because I knew I would have talked myself out of it if I did, I took a deep breath and smashed my lips against Jaxon’s.
Even though I knew it could have only been a few seconds, it felt like hours that I was stuck there like that. It was like the opposite of time flying when you’re having fun; I was in hell, and I had to experience every excruciating moment of it for as long as possible. Luckily, Jaxon didn’t try to make the kiss any deeper. It probably wouldn’t look very realistic, but I prayed that it would do the job.
Finally, the door creaked open, and somebody cleared their throat. But while I was thankful that I was done with having to kiss Jaxon, the alternative of having to face my teacher wasn’t all that much better, honestly. I awkwardly lifted my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to look toward her. Instead, I just staredat Jaxon under me, who looked just as taken aback as I felt. I wasn’t sure why he was so surprised; he was the one who had suggested the plan, after all.
The person in the doorway cleared their throat again. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as my face heated up. I was absolutely mortified by what I had just done. Why did I think listening to Jaxon, of all people, was a good idea? I mean, sure, he might have gotten us out of trouble, but was the public embarrassment really that worth it?
I couldn’t keep ignoring my teacher forever, though, so I swallowed my pride and looked toward the doorway. As expected, Ms. Moscowitz was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her eyes were narrowed, making her look thoroughly unimpressed. Although she stood five feet tall and had the look of a grandmother with her grey hair, I still found her pretty terrifying, and I hated to make her angry.
“Oh,” I said as loftily as possible. “Hi, Ms. Moscowitz.”
She just raised an eyebrow and continued to stare. I cleared my throat and shifted my gaze to avoid eye contact. I tried to push myself up in an effort to disentangle myself from Jaxon, but I didn’t get very far, as his arm was still wrapped tightly around my back.
“Is there something we can help you with, ma’am?” Jaxon asked. His tone was more polite than I’d ever heard from him, even in classes.
Ms. Moscowitz looked at each of us in turn. My heart was pounding so hard that I actually felt sick, and then instead of just worrying about getting in trouble for skipping class, I was starting to worry about the very real possibility of me puking all over Jaxon. I tried to take deep, calming breaths, but it suddenly seemed very hard to do so in that moment.
“Remember, this is a common room,” Ms. Moscowitz said. Without another word, she spun on her heel and walked out, the door slamming shut behind her.
I was starting to feel a little faint. Jaxon’s grip finally loosened on my back, and I took the opportunity to move away as quickly as possible. I basically fell back into the other corner of the couch, where I had been sitting before.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Jaxon said.
“Speak for yourself,” I muttered. I tried to flatten down my hair that he had messed up for the bit. I didn’t think that was exactly necessary, honestly.
Jaxon looked at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Why are you skipping class anyway?” he asked. “Not that I don’t support it, because I really do, but it’s not exactly your style.”
Any amusement that might have been left on my face dropped away at the question. I plucked a piece of lint off my skirt as I thought about my answer. I didn’t really want to tell Jaxon about my problems, but he was bound to hear about my problems with Lewis soon enough — whether from Eli or just the gossip mill around school.
I shook my head. “It’s nothing. I just had an argument with Lewis.”
Jaxon straightened up, and his face turned serious. I frowned. That wasn’t a common expression for him.
“What?” I asked.
Jaxon cringed slightly. “Listen… I know this is a really bad time to be saying this?—”
I narrowed my eyes. “Think carefully about what you say next,” I said dangerously. He actually hesitated for a moment, which was both good and bad. Good because he was taking my words to heart. Bad because it meant that whatever he was planning to say needed the warning.
“You bringing up Lewis reminded me of this,” he said slowly. Anything that started with that phrase couldn’t be good. “But I was wondering… if you would like to go on a date with me?”
Now Jaxon Andrews asked me out at least once a day and had done so for so long that I more or less tuned it out by this point. But most of the time, the way in which he asked me was clearly a joke. He would hit me with a cheesy pickup line, or he would ask me to go on ridiculous dates, like getting drinks in Australia. Him seriously asking me out was almost unheard of — which only made the timing of this so much more insulting.
