The Culture of Hooking Up

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY

Another rainy day in the school library. My hangover and paper are a few days behind me. I'm never going to eat a brownie from the microwave ever again. I'm back to read, post-it, write, repeat. Read, post-it, chug some water, repeat.

"Hey, stranger." Jack looks a little tentative, hovering near the chair across from me.

"Hey." It almost feels like that's what we are, just two strangers. Maybe it's because I always forget how different he looks in the daytime. I can see all the little brown freckles dotting his white chocolate skin. Mine looks so caramel in comparison, like water and oil. It doesn't help that I haven't seen him since that night at the bus stop. And I haven't really seen him, as in up close, since that night with the sunflower tattoo, and the tattoo parlor that still feels more like something out of a fever dream.

He taps his foot against the foot of the table. "I was just about to head out . . ."

The library is buzzing because it's common hour, but I can no longer see or hear anyone else. But then again, another glance at my reading reminds me of what I should be doing. It also reminds me that the last time I left his apartment, I wasn't expecting to be invited back. I wasn't even expecting to want to even be invited back, but when Jack finally looks back up, I know that's just another one of the many lies I tell myself late at night.

He traces his pointer finger in some kind of squiggle along the table as a hint of a smile traces across his lips. "You don't have to, but . . . do you wanna maybe . . ."

"Sure," I say before shaking my head. "I mean, I do." At least, his eyes are laughing at me now. Anything's better than that sad little puppy look that's been engraved in my head. "I would like to . . ." I slowly shut my textbook.

"Cool." His smile still doesn't meet his eyes but he head nods towards the exit at the other opposite end of the library. "Meet you outside?"

I nod and start packing up my things.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and push in my chair. Jack's waiting at the bottom of the cement stairs, even though it's drizzling outside. The sky is all grey, and he's in a maroon hoodie and jeans. He's just holding on to his backpack straps and staring at his feet. I'm halfway down the steps before he finally glances back up and sees me. We fall into stride, walking side by side like we usually do. Never in a rush, and yet still never lollygagging.

"How's your paper going?"

I snort. I don't even know anymore, and I can't even blame Taryne and her stupid brownies. "Oh." I startle when I realize I didn't even reply. "It's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I nod.

"Good." He nods back.

We're silent the rest of the way to the bus. Thankfully, it's already parked outside of the student center, waiting for the end of common hour route off-campus. Jack waits for me to walk on first, but I wave my hand, letting him go and letting him take the window seat, in our usual pick, middle of the bus, but closer to the back than the front. A few more people climb on before the door finally folds closed, and the bus huffs off, shaking and churning us all around.

"I've got an idea."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Want to play twenty questions?"

I wince. "Let's not."

"Two truths and a lie?" He cracks a real smile, that all too knowing banter-y smile, that assures me that things are pretty much back to normal, or I should really say typical. But it's the hopeful undertone that always pricks my all to confident resolve.