Chapter 20 – Jaxon
TWENTY
JAXON
YOU’RE PUCKING AWESOME
Jonesy
Remind me again why I need biology?
Me
could’ve taken chemistry
but i think ur already studying that with elliot
Chase walks into the lecture hall beside me, purposely holding the door open for everyone but me. He lets it swing shut and I snicker.
At the front of the room, I pluck a stapled syllabus from the table, laughing at the new texts in our group chat.
Dawson
Dr. Hart is the BEST! I swear, and if Reid is one of your TAs, sign up for his study group. CHILL AF.
Big Carmichael
Why did the cell bring a map?
He didn’t want to get lost in the tissue
Because of my adjusted schedule and Lakeland’s science elective requirement, it’s three minutes till eight, and I’m climbing the stairs in search of a desk to claim for the semester.
Dawson and others on the team swear that Dr. Hart is the easiest professor.
She understands that student-athletes and non-science majors are forced to take either this or chemistry to fulfill the requirement.
I barely make it up three rows when I spot Jordan. I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and take the remaining stairs two at a time.
“Do you mind if I have this seat?” I ask the guy sitting next to her, whose belongings are already spread out on the tabletop.
“Someone is sitting there,” she bites back, instructing the guy next to her to stay.
“Exact seat, one row ahead,” I point out.
“Great, then you can sit there.”
“Come on, Little Carmichael. I’ll let you cheat off my exams.”
“You were planning to cheat off me?” The guy next to Jordan, now quickly gathering his belongings, carelessly brushing them into his backpack, gasps.
“No—”
“Yes,” I lie. Unfortunately, whoever the sweater vest, bow tie-wearing student is foolishly believes me. Scooting around me, frightened and scurrying down the aisle.
“Was that necessary?” Jordan glowers up at me, heavy bottom lip pushed out. Pretty, I think.
“No, but it was fun.”
“Hey, Jordan.” Chase walks by, waving. His blond hair lighter, dusted with streaks of white, from spending the summer working at the marina. From a few rows back, he calls, “Jax, you coming?”
“Nah.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I drop into the seat and pull out my well-loved, refurbished laptop. Stickers cover the entire surface of the top. A few Lakeland ones, a couple of Marvel and DC superheroes that surround a Cincinnati Fire Department sticker in the center.
Jordan follows my lead, tugging out a tablet and keyboard. She double checks they are connected as Dr. Hart walks in and introduces herself.
The first ten minutes of class are like every other initial class of the semester: a professor walking us through our syllabus, highlighting important dates and topics they will be covering.
Dr. Hart, though, informs us of a misprint, making corrections to the schedule of labs and exams. I reach for a pen to mark them, bumping elbows with Jordan.
I don’t apologize, because my next apology needs to be for something else. As we both write the updated schedule down in the margin of the page, I gradually let my hand drift closer to hers till our pinkies brush.
Air gets caught in my throat. A million questions swirling, creating a tornado inside me. I do my best to concentrate for the remainder of the sixty minutes, and luckily, half through the designated lecture time, Dr. Hart dismisses us.
I stand first, Chase, and my teammates are already at the end of our row. “I gotta go, but can we talk later? After our session?”
Jordan nods.
The scowl I’ve grown accustomed to—the one I flip in my head to imagine what a full-fledged Jordan Carmichael smile is like—is not the one being thrown in my direction from across the face-off circle.
It’s probably deserved. I was the coward who bolted after she kissed me.
If I hadn’t, things would have escalated, and she might’ve wanted me in that moment.
I don’t want to ruin the friendship I’ve built with her.
I lost all semblance of control and was grasping at threads from doing something she would regret.
My clothes smell like her. A week later, her clean linen with hints of citrus is embedded into the fibers of my sweatshirt and shorts. They stare at me from the chair in the corner of my room I tossed them on. Taunting and tormenting me.
“You’re distracted.” I skate over to her, puck clutched in a gloved hand.
She ignores me. “Drop the puck. Let’s go again.”
“No.” When she reaches for my hand, I tuck it behind my back. “You’re sloppy behind the net, and your hip work is worse than a baby giraffe walking for the first time.”
“Greene.” Jordan’s soft eyes go molten. “Put the puck down.”
“No.” I stand firm. “I’ve skated with a fuzzy-filled head before, and I about got myself hurt. I’m not letting you—”
“My head is fine.”
“—keep going like this.” A puff of air blows a strand of loose hair off her forehead.
Even with the added inches of her skates, I tower over her.
Tossing the puck and any temptation to the other end of the ice, I take her chin between my thumb and forefinger, drawing her attention up toward me.
“I’m not letting you get yourself hurt. What’s going on? ”
I can see and feel her pulse pick up.
“Breathe,” I command.
She tries to shake her head, but I hold her still. “It’s not…never mind. I’m fine.”
“I’ve heard that before. I know fine is the tip of an iceberg.”
“Like you care anyway.”
“I do.” She shakes her head in disbelief.
Puffing out another annoyed breath, she skates after the puck. Before she can reach it, Jordan trips, tumbling to the ice on her stomach. She skids to a stop before hitting the boards.
Frantic, I bolt to her, dropping to my knees. “Are you okay?”
Jordan rolls over laughing which should be a good sign. Relief should be stretching across my shoulders, but it isn’t. I check her out for any sign of injuries, starting with her ankles. I reach for the right.
“Does that hurt?” Then, going to the left, she says no each time.
“I’m fine, Jaxon.”
“We’re done for today.” She stares up at me, taking my hand without a fight to fold into a seating position. Deep in her eyes, whatever is plaguing and distracting her is still there.
“I’m fine—” If she tries to tell me she’s fine one more time…
“I don’t care if you’re fine.”
“I thought you did care.”
“About you, yeah, I do. Which means I know you’re lying to me about being fine.”
I skate to the gate, collecting our bags and keeping an eye on Jordan making her way to me. Out of our skates and through the lobby, I push open the doors to the parking lot as a flash of lightening crackles in the sky. Thunder chases behind it.
“Did you drive?” I was already here when she arrived.
“No. Walked.”
Chase let me borrow his SUV. I click the keys and the car beeps. “Get in.”
“I won’t melt.”
“That’s a theory I wouldn’t like to test. Biology is enough for me.”
She starts walking toward the dorms.
“Jordan, get in the car and let me drive you home.”
“I can walk. My legs work perfectly fine.”
“You’re legs are perfect and I’m not taking no as an answer. Let me drive you home.”
Hands planted on her hips, she stops. “Fine.”
The drive to her dorm is under five minutes, but I manage to stretch it out.
Coming to a slow and complete stop at each stop sign, waiting five-plus seconds before taking my turn.
Pretending to miss a turn, so we have to go around the largest block on campus.
Stopping to let every student who needs to cross the street pass.
Jordan scoffs irritably, dragging one leg up to her chest, foot pressed into the leather seats. “You missed the turn, again.”
“Oh shit, my bad.” I play it off as if I didn’t do it on purpose.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“I—” Before I can get the thought out, she’s continuing.
“You wanted to talk, but I’ll save you the words.
” Jordan shifts to face me. I keep my eyes on the road, fearful that if I look at her and see the regret accompany her words I’ll lose it.
The carefully crafted facade I wear is like a Jenga tower ready to tumble around her.
“Fuck you, Greene. You’re the reason I’m distracted.
You can’t kiss me back then pretend you don’t want me.
You might regret the kiss, but I don’t. We’re adults, we’re friends—I think. ”
“We are,” I add in.
“We’re friends and friends can share a kiss without it being weird. But you made it weird. You left without saying anything.” Jordan shakes her head, muttering, “Asshole.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have left. I’m sorr—”
“I’m not done. That’s the other thing. If you’re waiting for an apology, I’m not apologizing. Why should I? People say go after what you want…” She’s cute when she rambles. Words pour out of her that I’m not sure she’s even making sense of. “And I wanted to kiss you, so I did.”
I stay quiet, unsure if she’s finished and processing her confession. Words have always come easily to me but right now they’re foreign and jumbled.
Seconds later, we pull up outside her dorm and I shift the car into park.
Jordan takes a slow inhale, reaching for her bags at her feet. “Thanks for the ride.”
“What if I want you to kiss me again?”