Page 89 of Withered

Lying on my bed, I realize many things. Jake is opening up to me, and I have no idea what to think of it. Sure, he’s less of a jerk now that I know him. However, I feel there is abutfollowing that line.

We haven’t fought recently, and he’s been on his best behavior. Maybe, just maybe, we could let it happen. That is, if he wants to.

Every time I bring up this topic, he brushes it off, saying we are friends. Only if life were simpler and I was less of an overthinker.

I turn off the lights, crawl under the covers, and fall asleep. My dreams, which had Mr. Darcy, are now replaced by a certain forest-green-eyed boy with beautiful dimples.

Schoolisthesameas usual. Classes are the same, but I don’t feel as interested as always. My eyes keep moving toward the classroom door, hoping to see Jake. When I awoke this morning, I received a text from Jake telling me that he would be late for school. I tried calling him to ask if he was okay, but his phone went straight to voicemail.

Last night’s event had to have been too much for him, so I gave him some space. I don’t want to pry. If he wants to talk, I think he knows where to find me. I saw him in his vulnerable state yesterday. I want to say so many things to him, hug him, and comfort him, but I can’t. Classes pass without his presence, and soon it is lunchtime.

I stop by my locker to put my books in. I'm about to shut my locker door when I feel strong arms around my waist and a soft lip on my neck. The woodsy scent is enough to tell me who it is.

I turn around and see Jake looking down at me; my mood suddenly brightens. A few people pause to stare at us, but as I see him, they fade away. Everyone in the hallway seems to have vanished except for the two of us.

“Hi,” he greets.

“Hey. When did you get here?” I ask. His arms are still wrapped around my waist, holding me in place with my back to the locker.

“I just got here.” He searches my face, his gaze falling on my lips.

I bit my lower lip. “You okay?”

He groans, his gaze stuck on my lips, as he answers, “You need to stop doing that.”

“Stop what?” I ask, looking into his eyes.

He leans in closer, his breath fanning my cheeks and stopping near my ear. “You’re biting your lower lip. It makes me hard.”

My cheeks flush at his words. I am still getting used to it. He slowly backs away and comes to a halt inches from me. His other hand moves up from my waist to the back of my spine, resting at the nape of my neck and sending shivers up my spine. He closes the gap between us and kisses me before knocking my body into the lockers behind me. My hands clutch his jacket, attempting to draw him closer, while he tugs at my neck. There is no more room between us. We pull apart, both breathing heavily, and he has his lips on my neck, placing gentle kisses there.

“Let’s go eat something.” His voice is wheezy.

I shut my locker, and we make our way to the cafeteria, turning heads as we walk. People quiet down and look at us. I hate being the center of attention, but Jake doesn't seem to mind. He walks with a confident expression on his face and stride, but I have to keep my head down since all these eyes make me nervous.

Jake must have observed this because he wraps his arm around my shoulder, drawing me closer to him.

“Why is everyone staring?” I ask even though I already know the answer. They’re all staring at him, and I happen to be walking beside him.

Girls are shooting daggers at me, perhaps killing me many times in their heads as to how I landed myself next to the hottest lad in school. In his typical attire, he appears to be a model.Damn him.

“They need to get a life.” He reacts, which makes me chuckle. He’s not entirely wrong; our school, Westwood High, is notorious for gossip. People here are more interested in what is going on in the lives of others than in their own.

If the attention in the hallway wasn’t enough, we’re getting more in the cafeteria. People stop what they were doing as soon as we walk in, and those in our path split to allow us to walk.

We make it to our table, where Kristy and Tyler are already seated, and Tyler has his mouth open while Kristy smirks my way.Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

“Tyler, are you okay?” I ask. He shifts his gaze from me to Jake.

He clears his throat and says, “Yeah.”

Tyler stares at Jake as we sit down. They’re having this eye-to-eye conversation, with Tyler smirking and Jake rolling his eyes. Kristy cuts in, “Rose, could you give me a ride back home? Tyler has soccer practice.”

“Yeah, sure. We haven’t hung out in a while; it’ll be fun.”

Ever since Tyler and Kristy had this thing going on with them, we barely went out together. Sure, we talk on the phone, but that’s it.

“Jakeand I both have practice today,” Tyler says.

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