Latter Days

Chapter 15

Chapter 15.

           “Gaaaaahhhhhhh,” I exclaimed, resting my head on the lunch table I was sitting at with Jack and Noelle. I pounded my head against it a few times for good measure, before Noelle rested her hand directly under my forehead to cushion the blow.

           “You about done?” Jack asked, always the helpful one. “We’re trying to eat over here.

           “Shut up, Jack, I’m rereading my essay for my Boston College application, and it sucks. You have no right to judge me—you’ve had your college plans set in stone since the day you were born. Did you even have to apply?”

           Jack sighed. “Annalie, this may come as a surprise to you, but the simple act of being Mormon is not enough to get me into BYU. I did actually send in an application, along with a ton of other required pieces.”

           “Well pin a rose on your nose,” I scoffed.

           “That was adorable,” Jack beamed. I scoffed again.

           “The point is, you’re as good as accepted, so I don’t need your sass.”

           “What can I do for you then?”

           “You can write my application essay if you want.”

           “No thank you, I already wrote my own. I have the utmost faith in you, though.”

           “Thanks.”

           Noelle piped up from her seat. “When did you guys get so cute and fighty?”

           “Fighty?” Jack asked.

           “You know, you actually fight now, instead of staring lovingly at each other all the time like you used to when you first started going out.”

           “Did we really do that?” I asked, horrified. I glanced over at Jack, who currently was making a point of staring at me in a way I could only describe as ‘lovingly,’ in order to spite me. “Oh, never mind. You did that.”

           “Only because you’re the cutest girl I ever did see, and you’re even cuter when you hate me.”

           I sighed, smiling but not disagreeing, and went back to my essay.

           "What’s your topic?” Noelle asked.

           “I have to write page 127 of my autobiography, only I don’t know how far into my life that is, or what to even write about.”

           Jack nodded at the paper. “You’ve got a whole page written. What’s it say?”

           I covered the page as best I could with my sleeve, not allowing him to see. “It’s nothing, I’m gonna rewrite it when I get home, I just realized how terrible it is.”

           “No, seriously. What did you write about?” He reached out for the page. I stopped him.

           “Jack. No.”

           He retreated his arm and folded his hands into his lap. “Sorry,” he said. At this point, Noelle excused herself, telling us she was late for a meeting with her math teacher, and scooted away quickly.

           “No, please don’t apologize,” I started. “It’s not anything about you, I just…It’s not about a good part of my life, and I don’t want you reading about that part of me, because I’m not like that anymore.”