The Thing About Flip Flops

Chapter Twenty Four: I Become A Red, Blushing, Stuttering Fish

A few days later, after school, I'm at my locker getting my stuff packed up when someone taps my shoulder.

"Where are you headed?" It's Jack.

"Library. I have to study for a Calculus test."

"C'mon. We're going to study somewhere else." I turn around to face him and notice that he looks slightly different than when I saw him last.

"Did you get a haircut?" I ask curiously.

He looks at me, confused. "No. Why?"

I shrug, taking in his appearance and clothes. He's wearing black jeans (does he ever wear anything else?) and a dark gray band t-shirt with vans.

"I don't know. Did you dye it or something?"

"No? I like my hair how it is, thank you."

"Then why do you look different?" I reach a hand up to touch it, but he playfully pushes it away.

"Don't touch the hair," He says, scowling at me. I roll my eyes then I push him away, laughing.

"Idiot."

He tugs on my sweater sleeve. "Come on. Let's go. Studying in the library is boring."

I look at him closely, trying to see what's different about him. Then it hits me. It has nothing to do with his hair. His hands aren't bloody or bandaged or anything. He looks completely unharmed. Which means he hasn't gotten into a fight recently. And he looks happy about it.

Because of this, and also slightly because I want to (though I don't tell him either reason), I let him drag me with him.

***

We end up going to his house just as his parents are leaving. Hana and Alex greet us, telling Jack and I that Mike is at his friend's house for the night. The two of them are about to head out for a work reception they have to attend, which means Jack and I will be here alone. The thought strangely excites me.

We hang around, chatting and doing homework (but mostly chatting) for a couple hours, before deciding to get dinner.

Jack and I are sitting on his bed, working on our poem and deciding what toppings we want on our pizza.

"Get olives on it," I say as he clicks boxes, personalizing our order.

He turns to look at me, his chocolate eyes bright and mischievous. "Are you crazy?"

I shrug. "Why not? Don't you like them?"

"No, they're so... gross and wet and salty."

I raise a hand. "Objection. You're just picky- wait, are you putting sun dried tomatoes on it? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Picky?" he repeats dryly, reaching over to ruffle my hair. I knock his arm out of the way with a playful smack.

"Don't touch the hair," I tease him.

He tosses his phone down and shifts his body so he is facing me. "Alright, that's it. How dare you come into my house and insult the way I like my pizza?"

I fold my arms. "Fine. I'll leave." I get up and smile secretly to myself on the way to the door. Obviously, I have no intention of leaving. I just want to get my way.

"Wait, what?" Jack says from behind me, sounding confused. "I was joking."

I stop with my hand on the doorknob. I look back at him over my shoulder and tell him, "I'll only stay if you get olives on the pizza."

He huffs and gets up. "You're evil."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're manipulating me." He's right in front of me now, holding the door shut with the palm of his hand, but making it look like he's just resting.

I grin at him, and he shoots me a fast, innocent look. "No way. I'm not," I tell him, trying hard to focus on my words because he's very close to me.

"Yeah."

"No."

"Tell the truth, A."

My heart starts to pound. We're nose to nose now.

Jack isn't touching me yet, but if I stepped an inch closer to him, we would be pressed against each other completely.

I'm afraid to look him in the eye because I think that would make me really want to kiss him. I sort of want to do that already. But it would be... completely stupid. And which would ruin our perfectly good friendship. But the thought's still there.

I risk a glance up at Jack's face, and he's looking down at my slightly parted lips with some weird expression on his face. I can't make heads or tails of it.

Without realizing I'm doing it, I bite my lip hesitantly, watching his eyes darken as I do so.

My heart is going a mile a minute. Whoa. Has he always had such gorgeous eyes? And such perfect skin and such kissable lips? Shit.

I want to lean in. The rational part of me wants to do the opposite. I just broke up with Chris. But the half of me that's currently nose to nose with Jack Golden says, Chris? Who's Chris?

Jack is even closer now, his lips resting half an inch away from mine. If he tilted his head down...

He suddenly reaches for the back of my head, pulling me steadily closer, making my heart rate increase in speed as it gets to the main part of its marathon. I feel my cheeks reach the temperature of Death Valley.

"No olives," Jack whispers, practically into my mouth. My lips part slightly as his lips almost reaches mine, wanting to...

"O-okay."

I don't move. I don't breathe. What am I doing, again? Who am I? All I know is that Jack Golden smells like citrus and salt and his face is only a few centimeters from mine and oh my god oh my god oh my god...

And suddenly I'm startled out of my trance. "Thanks! I really hate olives," Jack says casually, grinning mischievously and pulling away from me quickly. What...

Oh my god.

That son of a bitch. No offense to Hana, of course.

But... he...

What. The. Fuck.

How could he do this to me?

My cheeks are so hot right now. It feels like I'm a sun-dried tomato. God. Usually I don't blush. Oh, my god.

"You- you just..."

Jack looks at me, a confused expression on his face. He's pretending to have no idea what I'm talking about, that little piece of shit!

"I just what?" He smiles at me innocently again, showing perfect teeth and dimples, and making my heart speed up. Stop doing this to me or I'm gonna... I don't even know.

"I..."

"Awww, you're blushing, A!" He grins.

My heart skips a beat, and the butterflies in my stomach feel more like eggs being scrambled, or like potatoes being mashed. My face heats up even more as my hand reaches up immediately to feel my cheeks.

Oh my god, I'm totally blushing. Furiously.

"What? No I'm not!" I yelp quickly. "Why would I be blushing?"

He pokes my nose lightly, as if to prove a point. "Please. Your face is as red as a tomato. Speaking of tomatoes, we are getting sun-dried tomatoes."

I bury my face in my hands, rubbing my eyes and trying to hide my face from Jack even though he's already seen my blush.

Is it possible for someone's heart to stop beating? Because mine might have.

I expect for him to tease me again, but Jack just falls back onto his bed and continues ordering the pizza, leaving me standing at his door and gaping like a stupid fish out of water.

A very red, blushing, and stuttering fish.