Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
THEN
I ’ve never been on a date before, and I feel all kinds of things trying to prepare for my first one with a boy like Jason. He’s so dreamy, and I have to keep pinching myself that this is happening. I still don’t know what a junior would see in me.
It’s been exactly a week since Jason asked me out. A week of waiting for any sort of confirmation from him that the invitation had been real as we sat next to each other in photography every day. Finding out that I made the varsity team was enough of a distraction that I didn’t notice his silence until Wednesday. But he stayed quiet all week, and—besides a few smiles he shot my way—I was starting to think that I’d dreamt this whole thing up.
But then, this afternoon, he stopped me with a warm hand on my arm just as the bell rang.
“Hey, Layla,” he said softly as I slipped on my backpack. I turned around to face him, finding that wide, charming grin on his face.
“Yeah?” I asked tentatively.
“About that date . . . can I pick you up tonight? Around seven?”
The room began to spin, and I almost toppled right into a standing tripod before I managed to catch my balance. Jason was asking me out—again! Steadying myself with a deep breath, I nodded before squeaking out, “I think so.”
He chuckled softly as his brows knitted together in an adorable pattern. “You think so?”
“Yeah, I . . . I usually watch my little sister after school, and I’ll have to make sure my mom is home by then to take over,” I rushed out, “but seven should be totally fine. Maybe I can get your number so I can text you when I know for sure?”
Oh my god , I’d thought. Did I just ask Jason Moore for his phone number?
His grin was lopsided as he nodded, and my heart did a cartwheel when he reached for the phone in my hand, plucking it right out of my grip before saving his number into my contacts and handing it back to me. The move was so smooth my face almost split in two with the force of my smile.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he murmured low before striding out the door.
And now it’s five minutes to seven, and I’m coming apart at the seams with nerves. Thankfully my mom got home an hour ago, and when I asked her if it was okay to go out again tonight, she just smiled and nodded as she skirted into the kitchen where Annie was working on homework. I’d sent a quick text to Jason—a simple We’re on! followed by my address—before launching myself in the shower to start getting ready.
I decided to wear my best denim cutoffs and a flowing pink top that falls just along the waist of my shorts, accessorizing with a few dainty gold bracelets and my favorite gold heart necklace.
I’m fumbling with my tube of pink gloss and giving my lips one last swipe when a honk sounds from outside, and the color drains from my face.
“Layla!” Mom calls up the stairs. “Is that your ride?”
“I think so!” I yell back down before squinting at the girl in the mirror. “This is going to be good,” I tell myself. “Jason is cute, and he’s a freaking junior. Be cool.”
With a final sweep over my outfit, I decide it’s now or never and hustle down the stairs. I peek out the window next to the front door and see a bright red Mustang parked along the curb.
“Who is that?” my mom asks, and I nearly jump out of my skin at the way she snuck up behind me.
“Um . . . a friend!” I say, not trusting myself to look back at her. “Gotta go, love you!”
“Layla Hayes, are you going on a date?!”
Sighing, my shoulders drop as I inevitably turn to face her. “He’s just a friend, Mom. He’s in my class and just wanted to hang out.”
She’s still wearing a work dress—beige with pearl buttons down the front—but she’s taken off her shoes. Red manicured toes curl into the carpet as her hands rise to her hips. “What’s his name?”
“Jason,” I answer simply.
“Why didn’t Jason make the effort to come to this door and introduce himself?” Her eyes move from me to the window, and I know she has half a mind to march right out there and ask him the same question.
“Mom, please,” I beg, “just let me go, and I promise if there’s a next time, I’ll make sure he comes to the door.”
Her golden eyes flit back to me, considering. “You like him?”
My shoulders rise in an honest shrug. “I sit next to him in Photography. He doesn’t talk much, but he seems really nice and he’s on the football team?—”
“He’s a football player?” Her eyes widen in delight, the corners of her mouth tipping up. I hate how much it weirds me out, because I know exactly what she’s thinking . . .
Prime future-husband material.
It’s almost gross, and I have the sudden urge to call the whole thing off. I’m not surprised . . . she was Saddlebrook Fall’s sweetheart in her day—even crowned prom queen during her senior year—and dated a handful of football players herself. But those priorities are what got her stuck here, and I’ve never forgotten it.
Jason honks again. “Mom, he’s waiting.” I grab my purse off the table in the entryway and start to push out the door. “I have to go—I won’t be late!”
“Oh don’t worry about it, bug! Just be safe and enjoy yourself.”
I roll my eyes as I march down the front walkway toward the sparkling sports car that revs as I get closer, and then I’m laughing, my excitement sinking back in.
Jason might be quiet in class, but he’s far from it as we drive through the heart of town. His natural curiosity doesn’t feel intimidating—he asks questions like he genuinely wants to get to know me, and I like it. A lot.
“Have you lived here your whole life?” he asks as he pulls into the parking lot of Mustang’s Pizza, owned by Gus Romano who, in his prime, was a football legend here. Jason kills the ignition but turns to face me, giving me time to answer before getting out of the car.
“Born and raised,” I confirm. “And I can’t wait to get out.”
His eyes narrow a smidge. “You want to leave?” I’m not surprised by his surprise. Most people love it here, which is probably why no one ever leaves. A few years ago, Ava Jenkins—Sheriff Joe’s daughter—skipped town the day after her graduation, and the story made it into the Gazette . I still remember the way the sheriff’s face fell when my mom and I bumped into him at Luna’s Bakery. He was ahead of us in line when Nosy Maeve practically assaulted him, demanding answers in front of everyone there. Maeve is pushing ninety and leads the local bridge club, and her stance on the matter was that we all deserved to know what happened. I just wanted blueberry pie.
I think about how to respond. “Do you ever feel like . . . you can’t breathe? Like the walls are slowly closing in around you and you’re not sure where to turn, where to find fresh air?”
He considers. “Sometimes, on the field after a snap, if the other team’s defense is good.”
Not exactly what I meant, but I suppose it’ll do. “I guess I feel like that here, sometimes. A little claustrophobic.”
“Hm,” he hums before pushing out of his door, rounding the front of the car to let me out with a soft smile.
We find a table in the back, and Gus must get wind that a football player is in his restaurant because within minutes the small, round man comes out from somewhere in the back. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose as he grins down at us. “What a pleasure to have you here, Jason, thanks for coming in. You ready for the season?”
Jason’s returning smile is warm and friendly. “Yes sir, the boys have been going hard out on the field.”
“Good.” Gus slaps his shoulder as his eyes move to where I sit opposite Jason. “Very good. You kids have a nice dinner, all right? I’ll bring out a couple of milkshakes later, on the house.”
“Thank you,” Jason and I say in unison as he slips back into the kitchen.
“Does it ever get to be too much, having people fawn over you like that?” It isn’t the first time I’ve seen townsfolk throw themselves at the feet of the football team.
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I think I’m sort of used to it because of my dad.”
“Your dad?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah, my dad—Ron Moore.”
“Your dad is the mayor ?” I bark out. How in the world did I not know this? I mean, I do my best to stay out of town politics, but as the highest-elected leader of Saddlebrook Falls, Mayor Moore is practically a deity around here.
Jason’s expression turns a little shy. “I figured you knew. Everyone always seems to.”
I shake my head. “I know who he is, I just didn’t connect the dots, I guess.”
A waitress comes by to take our order, and Jason asks for a large pizza for the both of us to share along with a couple of sodas. I planned on ordering a spinach and mozzarella calzone for myself, but decide not to say anything. For all I know, ordering for the both of us is a chivalrous move on Jason’s part.
“Okay,” I say when the waitress walks away. “My turn to ask questions.”
Jason sits up straighter and folds his hands on the table in front of him. “Okay, shoot.”
I laugh at the seriousness of his posture, and then ask, “Weren’t you just dating a senior?”
His shoulders slump a little. “Yeah. Michelle. She—We dated on and off for almost two years.”
“Is it off for good?” I don’t mean for the question to sound so direct, but considering this is a date, I think it’s a fair question.
He must agree, because he nods vigorously. “Definitely over for good.”
I think about that answer. “Can I ask why?”
We’re interrupted by the waitress who sets down a bottle of soda in front of each of us, and Jason uses the opportunity to take a deep breath before thanking her. “I just . . . felt like our relationship ran its course. We were friends first, during my freshman year. And then after I made it onto the varsity team last year, she told me she was into me as more than a friend. And don’t get me wrong, I was into her too. But I think I started to realize she might’ve only been with me because of my success.” He clears his throat. “Football is the single most important thing to me—I’ve dedicated my whole life to it. And college scouts are going to start watching me this year. I had a good season last year, but Noah King is technically the starting quarterback and I still have to prove myself. Eventually, I’d love to go pro. I think Michelle had stars in her eyes about it all.”
Interesting. “You think she was using you?”
The corner of his mouth lifts, but there’s no mistaking the way his eyes dim at the suggestion. “It might be a harsh way to put it. I don’t think she meant anything bad by it, I just think she sort of . . . attached herself to the idea of my future. Take the jersey out of it, and I’m not sure our relationship would have been enough to make her happy.”
I’m unsure why a smile crawls across my face at that, but I can’t help the surprise I feel at the depth of his answer. It’s so honest, so vulnerable . . . and so in line with the way I feel about this town, which is one of the main reasons my mom and I struggle so much. Finding a kind and financially successful man to settle down and have children with is her dream for me. But I don’t want the white-picket-fence life without any real meaning. It’s why I want to leave here someday, to travel to new places and have experiences that don’t exist in Saddlebrook Falls. I want to see the world before I commit to anything permanent. Jason might be the mayor’s son and headed for star quarterback status, but based on what he’s saying, he doesn’t want to settle either.
“Everyone at school is talking about it, you know,” I say, shifting the topic a bit before I reveal anything too personal.
His eyes flash. “About me and Michelle?” I nod, and he rolls his eyes. “What are they saying?”
“There’s all sorts of theories,” I tease as the waitress returns to set a large pizza on the table between us. We both thank her before I continue. “One was that Michelle dumped you for a guy in college. Another is that you, um, were spotted with another girl behind the bleachers after school.” It feels a bit bold to lay the rumors out there like this when I’m still just getting to know him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Jason stuffs the end of a pizza in his mouth, chewing as he watches me. Like he’s trying to figure out how I feel about it all. “People love to talk.”
I shrug. “Perks of popularity,” I jest.
Gus makes good on his promise to bring us milkshakes after we stuff ourselves with pizza, and soon Jason’s driving me back home in his too-loud sports car. When he pulls up to the curb in front of my house, I’m surprised when he cuts the ignition and gets out of the car to walk me to the door. I wonder if my mom is watching from a window somewhere as he slips his hand into mine and leads me up the front steps.
I’m just about to say good night when he tugs on my hand and pulls me toward him, and before I know it, his lips are on mine. Nerves burst like fireworks through my body, and I’m a little caught off guard by the suddenness of it all. But then again, this is a date, right? Maybe I should have been more ready for this.
It’s a quick kiss, and soon Jason’s smiling down at me with those perfectly white teeth. “Can we do this again soon?” he asks eagerly.
I can’t help my own smile—from nerves or excitement I’m not sure, but I did have a good time with him tonight. “Sure,” I say back, and he seems pleased.
I watch as strides back down the front steps toward his car. It’s not until he drives away that I force myself to wipe the dumb smile off my face and get inside, hoping like hell my mother wasn’t spying.