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THE THING WITH Steve escalated slowly, at first. Jackie didn't know if their first kiss was a heat of the moment, if the adrenaline had overtaken every other sense and feeling. Sometimes, she wondered if she imagined it. His mouth on hers, gripping her jaw, her hands fisted in his shirt. She dreamt about it more often than she'd like to admit.
After the events of the tunnel, she spent the next three days in bed, exhausted. She and Max lounged around the house, a matching sickness that she was sure Susan didn't quite buy, but she let them stay home from school, anyway.
Billy ignored them for the most part, Jackie learned that Max was the one who'd knocked him out, threatening him with the bat. The ignoring was mutual, silent stares from across the room, no snide comments. If either parent noticed it, they didn't let on. Jackie reckoned they were grateful for the peace and quiet at meal times.
Steve didn't call once, and she didn't see him again until her first day back at school. She sat next to him in first period as always, noting the dark bags under his eyes, and she wondered if he was feeling the same.. sickness.. that she and Max were.
He didn't talk to her until after the bell rang, stopping her at the door. Jackie turned to him, hopefully. "You have a free period after lunch, right?"
"Yeah."
"Want to grab pizza, or something?"
Jackie raised her brow, biting back the question. Is this a date? But she didn't ask it. Instead, she nodded. "Yeah. Meet you at your car?"
He nudged her, smiling, and Jackie involuntarily returned it.
In second period, Heather welcomed her with a bear-hug. "There you are! I thought you died."
"I'm here," Jackie replied, tiredly. "I miss anything interesting?"
"Only that Stan Cline ate shit in the hallway yesterday."
Stan Cline was a loud boy, one who burped in class and never excused himself. He left his trash on the lunch table, and wrote little harassing letters to the girls he thought were cute. Jackie never got one—she didn't know whether to be offended or not. Then again, there were still seven months of the school year left.
"Poor hallway," Jackie said, and Heather laughed.
It was weird, pretending that everything was normal, knowing what she did now. Tunnels under the town, evil creatures in the lab—the gate. She didn't know how the others did it, acted like everything was fine. Maybe she'd get better at pretending, with time.
