Chapter 12 Alondra
Alondra
Macy shivers in her coat, pulling it tighter around herself. “It’s so fucking cold here,” she moans, and I have to agree with her.
“It’s seventy-eight in Texas today.” I looked this morning to torture myself when I saw the temperature for Minnesota. The sun is shining, but the wind is brutal, cutting through every material designed to keep it out, chilling you to the bone.
“I say we pack our shit up and go there.”
“Right now?” I ask, laughing at the absurd idea.
“Of course. We both have cars—let’s run away.”
“Does this mean you’re done with Chad?” I ask, and Macy’s smile fades into a grimace.
“I’m done with him this time. Sorry you have to keep picking up the pieces every time we break up,” she says, and I bump her with my shoulder.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Besides, I have no room to be upset after all of your help when things ended with Bradley.” Macy gives me a sympathetic smile.
I know she’s my cousin, but I couldn’t ask for a better best friend.
By the time we’d decided to move so Bradley didn’t know where we lived, it was impossible to find a two bedroom since Rose wasn’t going to live with us again, but Macy didn’t complain once. I really should just shut my mouth about Chad, but I wish she knew she deserved better than him.
“Al, that was different, and you know it.”
I force out a short laugh. It was different, and it also wasn’t. “I guess,” I mumble, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“Have you told Jack you’ve been planning dates for him?” she asks, and I stuff my hands in my pockets.
“Not yet, but the girls seem nice enough.”
Macy snorts, chuckling under her breath. “It’s kinda weird that you’re doing this. I know you said he would be cool with it, but are you sure he even wants a girlfriend?”
It is weird to be picking out potential girlfriends for him when I’m trying to make sense of why he makes me feel things nobody else has for the last nine and a half months. I don’t want to be his girlfriend, but I’m not sure I know how to be his friend either.
“I guess I’ll find out when I tell him.” I’m avoiding telling Jack until the last possible moment because I don’t think he knows I was serious, and I’m a little worried this might be the thing that pushes his golden retriever puppy energy over the edge.
“How’s tutoring going?”
“Really well, actually. We’re waiting to get scores back on our midterms.” I’m hoping he passed. I don’t want to see the defeat on his face if he scores badly. He worked so hard to do well on it.
The wind blows again, and I try to shrink further into my winter coat I’ve already had to break out, but I have no doubt everyone will be risking hypothermia next week for their Halloween costumes.
Macy shivers again, and I swear, our parking lot is too damn far away from the buildings on this campus. “I’m glad you decided to help him. He seems like a nice guy.”
He is a nice guy. I spent all last night during our tutoring session trying not to remember how sexy it was to have him dress me while we worked on some of his homework for a different class. We’re friends, and friends don’t look at friends like that.
“Jack’s pretty great.”
“Do you think you could see him as more than a friend?” she asks, and I’m quick to shake my head. I knew it was only a matter of time until someone asked me.
“I know he’s not Bradley, it’s just . . .
being friends with him is one thing. Anything more is a boundary I’m not sure I should ever cross with Jack,” I admit, sighing.
Maybe if everything hadn’t gone down the way it did, I’d consider it, but I can’t.
It doesn’t matter that he makes me feel light and vibrant instead of the box of black, white, and gray I’ve been locked inside.
Macy falls silent, then she bumps me back just before there’s a loud whoop behind us. I turn in surprise to see Jack running at a full sprint towards us. Speak of the devil. He’s managed to attract the attention of everyone else walking as well.
Jack has a wide smile on his face and doesn’t slow down until he skids to a stop right before me, his arms wrapping around me as he spins me, backpack and all.
“Jack! What the hell are you doing?” I shriek, holding onto him.
I’m laughing when he sets me down on the ground. “I got my grade back,” he says, sounding only a little out of breath, but his eyes are sparkling.
“And?”
I’m assuming it’s good news based on his mood. How long was he running around? Was Jack just going to keep going until he found me?
“I got a fucking eighty-one!”
The smile on his face is brilliant and contagious.
“Jack, that’s great. I knew you could do it,” I say, my smile growing from the pure joy radiating from him.
His arms fold around me, pulling me into another hug, and then I’m swung again, laughter slipping from both of us. “It’s not great, it’s a miracle,” Jack says, and I hate that he’s been made to feel like he’s less than because of his dyslexia.
Macy is laughing at us once I’m back on solid ground, and I adjust the straps of my backpack on my shoulders from where they’ve slid out of place. “That’s Al—a miracle maker.”
“Celebrate with me tonight,” he blurts out, and I’m not sure I could say no even if I wanted to.
“Is that a question?” I tease, and his cheeks pink.
“No.”
“What kind of celebration?” I ask, anticipating it not to be Twin City now that I know he doesn’t drink. Jack reminds me of an onion, having to peel back each layer back to learn more about what lies beneath the pretty exterior.
Jack’s dimples are out in full force, his eyes crinkled with happiness. It makes my pulse race. “It’s a surprise. Dress warm and comfortable. I have to go to practice, but I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“What do you have planned?” I feel like I should be worried, but I’m not.
“You’re not the only one allowed to have secrets.” He winks before letting go of me. I shake my head at Jack, watching him walk away for a moment before turning back to Macy.
“Yeah, you don’t stand a fucking chance of staying just friends with Jack,” she muses, before another gust of wind sends her long hair into her face.
She’s wrong. That’s not how it is between us. I roll my eyes and brush off her comment, but the smile on my face lingers.
“What’s the plan?” I ask, climbing into Jack’s truck, smiling at the sound of the radio humming in the background with a country station playing.
It’s older and worn, but I like that it isn’t flashy and new.
The inside is clean, and it’s clear he takes care of it, but it’s simply another one of those layers to peel back.
“You’ll see,” he says, shifting gears while I get buckled.
“Am I dressed warm enough for whatever it is you have planned?” I ask, causing him to peek in my direction.
I went with a thick sweater, a pair of leggings, fuzzy socks, and a pair of Birkenstock clogs.
I held out for the longest time on getting them before I finally cracked and asked for a pair last Christmas.
I practically live in them once the temperature starts to drop.
Jack glances at me and nods. “Yeah, you should be good.”
Where could he possibly be taking me? The things I know about Jack tell me he’s a nice guy I feel safe alone with—which is honestly enough for me—but there’s a lot of gaps in what I don’t know, and I have no clue where he’d take me to celebrate his score.
“What are some things you like to do in your free time?” I ask, turning in my seat to watch him as the glow of the dash and the passing streetlights cast shadows over the edges of his face.
He chuckles under his breath. “I’m not telling you where we’re going. You’ll find out in a few minutes.”
“Rude.” I stick my tongue out at him. “I was asking because I want to get to know my friend better.”
“My whole world revolves around hockey. I don’t have a whole lot of time to do other things, so I guess it’s a good thing hockey is what I like to do when I have free time,” he says, and I understand because I used to spend every spare second either on the ice or thinking about skating.
“What about during the summers?” I ask, pushing further because there’s got to be something more.
Jack sighs, tapping the steering wheel as he shifts gears with ease. “I work in manual labor in the summer, but I spend the rest of my time with my momma.”
“Oh, like construction?” I ask, trying to picture Jack on a construction site, and he shakes his head.
“Not really,” he answers vaguely, and now I’m even more curious.
“So like what then?”
“I’m from Amarillo, which is cattle country, and once I turned fourteen, the guy that lives in the house next to ours helped me get a job off the books during the summers at the ranch he works at.”
My jaw drops, and my imagination runs wild. Oh my fucking god.
I was right.
Save a horse, ride a goddamn hockey player instead.
I wonder if he wears a cowboy hat and assless chaps? Boots? Oh great, now I’m picturing Jack in assless chaps, and I really don’t need an excuse to think about his ass.
“Al, you’re gonna catch flies if you leave your mouth open any longer,” Jack jokes, and I can’t stop staring.
“Are you serious? So you know how to ride a horse?” I ask, trying to picture it, and he laughs at me.
“That’s what you want to know?”
Don’t ask him about the chaps. “I mean, yeah?”
“Yes, I know how to ride a horse,” he says, his smile growing.
This changes the game. “Do you have any pictures?” I ask, and he snorts.
“Of me riding a horse?”
“Or like petting one, but I think it’d be pretty cool if you had one with a baby horse,” I think out loud, imagining how many more matches his already popular dating profile would get if he had a picture with a baby horse.