Page 15 of The Fangirl Project
I haven’talwaysbeen like this around Jake. Up until a few months ago, I rarely thought twice about what I was wearing when I saw him; sometimes I might hope he’d notice and I’d feel pleased whenever he said I looked nice, but I never picked an outfit with him in mind.
Then again, I’d never had to activelyworkto make sure he didn’t forget me or let our friendship slip by the wayside. As one of the few genuinely good-looking, decent guys in our class, he was always someone I’d harbored a small crush on, but it wasn’t until he turned down another girl and asked if I wanted to go to prom with him instead that I realized my feelings for Jake ran alotdeeper than just cherishing our friendship. I started daydreaming about how we’d be hanging out, and so easily, so naturally, he’d turn to me and we’d be kissing…
Ididhold out hope for a movie-worthy moment at prom. I wanted to be Rachel Chu arriving at Araminta’s lavish wedding with all the aunties stunned speechless inCrazy Rich Asians,Laney in her red dress inShe’s All That. We were all sharing a limo as a group, but I got ready at Jake’s house. His big sister, Ginny, was home, so she’d offered to help with my hair and makeup, and I had visions of walking down the stairs and Jake catching his breath, unable to take his eyes off me…
The exaggerated wolf whistle I got wasn’t quite what I’d hopedfor.
I wish he hadn’t had to move, or go to this new school. It’s almost an hour on the bus to get to his new house now, not just a fifteen-minute walk down over the canal. Before summer, we used to hang out almost every day. Mom’s comment about growing up and growing apart suddenly resurfaces in my brain, but I refuse to acknowledge it, instead shoving it deep, deep down.
The big driveway is empty; Ginny’s not home, and Jake’s parents are still at work.
According to Daphne’s logic, this isdefinitelymore like a date.
It’s good news, but my stomach ties itself into such knots I think I might be sick. Why does it suddenly feel like everything hinges on how this evening goes? We’re just hanging out, like we’ve done a thousand times before. I won’t be trying to make any moves, like holding his hand or leaning over to kiss his cheek, so it won’t ruin our friendship, but if it’snota date—
If itisa date—
As I walk down the garden path to Jake’s front door, I force myself to concentrate on my breathing, which feels too loud and alittle ragged. I try to regulate it, but it’s hard now that I’m actively thinking about it. Not too shallow, not too heavy.For God’s sake, breathe like a normal human, Cerys!
Before I can lift a hand to knock on the door, it swings open.
And there’s Jake, beaming at me, a fingerprint smudge on his glasses, the white shirt he has to wear for his uniform looking a little disheveled; the sleeves are falling down where he folded them up in his usual carefree manner. He stands barefoot on the doormat, and I’m already grinning back, wondering excitedly,Was he standing there waiting for me?
“Hey there, newbie! The sensor went off on the Ring camera,” he says, reading my mind in that way he does. My cheeks heat, and I try to will the blush away, not sure I’m very successful at it. Then he looks at my lips, and my stomach flips and I inhale sharply as Jake says…“You’re, er, trying something new? That’s a different look for you.”
I bite my lower lip, just barely. It feels sticky. “Do you like it?”
Jake’s not looking at my mouth anymore, though, he’s looking just at me, with one eyebrow twisted upward. “Doyoulike it?”
I’m deflated, I’m crushed, I’m…actually honestly reassured that it’s not just me who thinks this is not reallyme.I laugh shakily. “One of the girls did it for me. I love it on her, but…”
“Maybe a different…color?”
“Maybe,” I agree, and we lock eyes for a moment before we both laugh; it makes me feel lighter, everything feeling normal between us again.
See, Mom? We aren’t drifting apart. We’re solid as ever.
“T-shirt looks great, though!” he tells me with a wink thatbuoys me enough to strike a little pose, hip jutted out and hand fanning down the length of my torso.
“Fandom’s a good look on me, huh?”
“And to think—we’re only just getting started.” His tone is cheeky, borderline flirty, and I’m too giddy to think up a good response.
“Come in, we were just making a snack. You want anything?”
“Sure,” I say, and it comes out too breathless.Crap! Breathe, Cerys, don’t be weird!“Yeah, I’d…Wait, did you say ‘we’? But I thought…”
I look again at the driveway in front of the garages, which is empty.
Jake, though, points carelessly over my other shoulder, where there’s a small and slightly battered black Ford parked at a crooked angle on the pavement. He’s already moving inside, assuming I’m following, as he says, “Yeah, Max is here. Our physics lesson got canceled, so we came back here to try to catch up on the classwork. Explain to me how the teacher gets sick, but it’s onusto make up for that? Is St. David’s like that, too?”
My mouth opens, but I can’t respond.
Max is here.
Why is Max here?
This is meant to beourtime,ourhangout.
