Love,
Jules
My cheeks flush red as soon as I walk into class on Monday morning. Turns out an entire weekend of babysitting with your best friend does not erase the warm, mushy feelings you get when you remember falling into the lap of the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. Holy cow. I mean, what?? How did that happen? Why did that happen? I was doing perfectly fine at ignoring him until stupid Julio made me fall into Jake’s arms.
Now he’s all I think about.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. My coffee trembles in my hand. I’ve only had one sip of it since I bought it from the coffee cart. My stomach is all tight with anxiety and I can’t seem to drink. I’m about to see him again. After a weekend of trying not to think about him, he’s about to be right here in my class, sitting next to me. I’m not sure I can survive forty-five minutes of being so close to him now that I’ve sat in his lap. It was hard enough to ignore him before that little incident. Now, it’ll be a monumental task.
With shaky legs, I make my way to my desk and set my coffee down so I don’t spill it.
“Morning,” Jake says. He says it every day. And every day, the sound of his cute voice sends a little shiver down my spine.
“Morning,” I croak back as I drop into my seat.
The only reprieve I got last Friday was that Mr. Casey didn’t assign any weekend homework, so Jake and I didn’t have to talk at all. Now, it’s the start of a new week and I’m sure he’ll have us doing something together. Here’s hoping I can get through it without making a fool of myself. This year was supposed to be about not thinking of boys, and I didn’t even make it one whole day.
The Universe really has some explaining to do. I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve this kind of treatment. I’m a good person. Why is life torturing me like this?
Mr. Casey gives his lesson, which includes playing several YouTube videos with math tutorials. Normally I like the days where we watch videos, but today, with the lights turned off and the glow of the Smartboard making Jake’s side profile look extra sexy, I wish we could go back to regular boring classwork.
I am hyper aware of Jake sitting next me. I notice when he moves or when he sighs, or when his pencil lead breaks and he has to click the tip of his mechanical pencil to fix it. I used to like crushing on guys, but now it’s just all heartache.
I told myself not to think about guys this year and now I’ve totally ruined it. Not cool.
Mr. Casey turns the lights back on and elaborates about an equation we just saw in the last video. He uses different colored dry erase markers to write out different parts of the problem, but every time he uses the green one, I can’t read what he writes because it’s too light on the white board. I usually lean over and ask Jake what it says. He must have superior vision because he doesn’t have a problem reading Mr. Casey’s green writing. This time, when the green marker emerges, Jake slides his paper over onto my desk, so I can see it. Then he writes out exactly what Mr. Casey puts on the board.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
“Always,” he whispers back.
My heart pounds. I hate it. And I like it. But I mostly hate it.
This is not good! Stop crushing on him! It doesn’t matter that he’s totally hot. It doesn’t matter that he’s so considerate he remembers that I can never read the green marker and he proactively let me copy his paper. None of it matters. Because underneath all of that, he’s still just a guy. And I have sworn off guys this year.
I rest my head on my hand and let my hair fall in front of my face, blocking him from my peripheral vision. It helps a little, pretending he’s not there. Now I know why all the girls swoon over Jake Johnson. Everything about him is cute. I guess I can’t blame the entire boy-liking population of Brazos High for swooning over him. I just wish I was immune to it all.
Mr. Casey turns off the lights again. “One more video before class is over.” He grins like he’s the coolest dude ever. “I think you will like this one.”
What plays next is an ultra dorky rap video made by some extraordinarily dorky math guys who think they’re funny trying to teach educational stuff in a rap. This might work on third graders, but here in high school, it’s totally lame.
I start packing up my stuff into my backpack, and my pencil rolls off my desk. In the dark, I lean over to get it. My hand touches another hand. I jump and see Jake smiling at me, his hand over my pencil. He sits up and gives it to me.
“Thanks,” I mumble. My skin is scorching hot from where my fingertips grazed his.
“Always,” he whispers back. His eyes sparkle in the glow of the Smartboard and my heart does this little mini seizure in my chest. I swallow, but it doesn’t help anything.
I know this is math class, not science, but I just learned a very scientific truth:
That whole cliché about feeling sparks between two people? It’s true.
It’s so, very, true.
Eight
Jake
I think I found the perfect thing to distract me from thinking about Jules and how I’m such a pathetic sack of pathetic-ness for not being able to ask her out. That thing is my two year old brother, Geoffrey. My parents decided to go out to see their favorite rock band perform tonight, on a Tuesday of all nights, and they left me to babysit. My brother is cute and all when he’s clean and laughing, but for extended periods of time, he’s a total handful. My parents are going all the way to Houston, which is a three hour drive, so they leave the second I get home from school.
Normally I’d complain about this and ask for money to order a pizza or something to make up for this huge inconvenience. But I’m cool with it tonight, because there’s no way I’ll be able to think about Jules while I’m caring for my energetic little brother. I set up his favorite toys in the living room and then I turn on a kid movie that he’s only seen a million times instead of the ones he’s seen two million times, and it keeps him entertained while I work on my homework. I only have a few things to do for my other classes, and I finish quickly, leaving only math work.
Mr. Casey gave us another stack of worksheets and they’re not due until Friday, so Jules and I don’t have to work on it today. In fact, it’ll be good if we don’t work on it today. I need a day to just clear my mind. Last night when I wasn’t able to sleep (because I was thinking of her) I started searching online for ways to get over being too scared to ask a girl out. One very interesting article said you should distance yourself from your crush so you can gain some perspective. To recharge, if you will. It said spending too much time around them will only make you crazy and then you’ll be too nervous to ask them out. I have no idea if that random person on the internet knew what they were talking about when they wrote that article, but I’m going to try it out.
My Snapchat app lights up. I nearly choke on my soda. Just a few seconds after I told myself not to message Jules today—she messaged me. I glance at my brother and make sure he’s still happily watching the TV and not getting into trouble, and then I read her message.
It’s a picture of her math worksheets, with the words: Wanna do this tonight or later?
The cheesy grin on my face is so cheesy it’s actually making my cheeks hurt. I get on the floor and sit next to Geoffrey and take a picture of the two of us. Geoffrey loves pictures and he always smiles really big for them. I write: I’m babysitting tonight so I might not be any good at math
Jules immediately sends back a picture of her face. Her hand is covering her mouth in what is clearly an “aww” expression that mirrors the caption she types over the photo: AWW! OMG HE’S SO CUTE! Is that your brother?
I wish Snapchat didn’t erase photos right after you receive them because I’d love to look back at that one. She looked so happy. And so incredibly beautiful.
I reply with another photo of us and the caption: Yep.
I guess our homework can wait, she says using the text function on Snapchat. I’m jealous though, because I love kids! Tell your parents I will bab
ysit for them!
I bite my lip. The first reply I think of is kind of totally inappropriate so I can’t say it—do you want to babysit me or my brother? My cheeks flush at the very thought of saying it. But then I think of a better reply. After all, this is the perfect opportunity to spend time with her outside of being in Mr. Casey’s class. So what if that online article told me to stay away from her until I wasn’t nervous… I want to see her.
I take another selfie and send her it with the caption: you’re welcome to come hang out with us!
Her reply comes three minutes later, and it’s the longest three minutes in the world. I must be in some kind of time warp caused by the impatience of waiting on a beautiful girl, but eventually she does reply.
Sounds fun! What’s your address?
Geoffrey is the first one to rush out the door when Jules arrives. “Hi!” he says, waving his chubby toddler hand at her.
“Hello,” Jules says, kneeling down so that she’s on his eye level. “What’s your name?”
“Geoffrey,” he says. His fingers go straight to his mouth—he always does that when he’s nervous. I’m nervous too, little brother. I’m so nervous.
“It’s nice to meet you, Geoffrey,” she says, smiling at him. “My name is Jules.”
Jules looks just like always, but she’s somehow different now that we’re not at school. She’s wearing black Adidas track pants with flip flops and a pale pink shirt. It’s casual and yet so very cute on her.
I lead Jules through my house and to the back yard where we have a nice patio setup. My parents love hosting parties to watch football, so there’s ceiling fans, a TV, music, and an outdoor kitchen out here, as well as our swimming pool.
“Whoa,” Jules says, looking around in awe. “Your backyard is awesome.”
“Yeah, it’s my parent’s favorite part of the house, and it’s not even technically in the house,” I say. “But it’s nice to study out here.”
She slides her backpack off her shoulders and we sit at the patio table. I put Geoffrey in his favorite swing which hangs from the patio ceiling and I give him some picture books to play with. He likes to play with his books and pretend like he’s “studying” whenever I’m studying.
Jules and I get a decent amount of work done before Geoffrey gets bored and starts asking to get out of his swing. I pick him up and put him in my lap, then look back at our worksheets. “Looks like we finished just in time because this little guy will probably need a nap soon.”
“No nap!” my brother says, balling up his little fists in defiance. But then he yawns and Jules and I both laugh.
“I love naps,” Jules says. “I wish I could take a nap.”
“Me too,” I say, nodding enthusiastically. Geoffrey hates naps and it’s always a struggle to get him to lay down, but my mom wants me to keep him on his daily routine, so he’ll need a nap even if he doesn’t want one. “Come on, little dude,” I say, standing up and reaching out my hand for his. “Let’s walk Jules to her car.”
“This was fun,” Jules says as we walk up to the front yard. “Thanks for inviting me over.”
She grins at me as we walk and it makes my knees weak. She seems genuinely happy, and like she really did have a good time hanging out with me. Plus, she didn’t have to. Our work could have been done at our separate houses, with occasional Snapchat messages between us like usual. But she came over, and she hung out with me. Maybe she likes me, too.
I know I’ll never get the courage to ask her to be my girlfriend if I don’t find the courage to ask her on a date. We stop in front of her car. She takes her car keys out of her pocket and then accidentally drops them. My little brother bends down and picks them up for her.
“Thank you,” she says, beaming at him. She ruffles his hair.
“Are you going bye-bye?” Geoffrey asks, one finger in his mouth.
“Yep, I’m going home to take a nap,” Jules says, winking up at me. “Naps are so much fun.”
My brother shakes his head. “I hate naps!”
“That’s too bad,” Jules says. “I think naps are cool.”
My little brother stares at her, almost as if he’s trying to figure out why she thinks naps are cool. The little gears in his toddler mind are spinning—I think she might actually make him want to take a nap now, if only to see why she thinks they’re so cool.
“Your brother is the cutest,” Jules tells me. She clicks the unlock button on her key fob. Then she looks back at him. “If you take a nap today, I’ll bring you a present next time I come over.”
Geoffrey’s eyes widen. “Okay!”
I might be grinning bigger than he is though, because Jules just said she’d come over again. That has to be a good sign. “Hey,” I say, telling myself to hurry up and spit out the words before I lose my nerve. “Oliver is having a party at his house on Friday. It’ll be mostly the soccer team and our friends. Do you want to go with me?”
“Sure,” she says. “Sounds fun.”
I grin. I want to hug her. But that would be weird, right? Probably.
“Cool,” I say, reminding myself that I’m Jake Johnson, and I shouldn’t be nervous. I should have expected her to say yes. “See you at school tomorrow.”
Nine
Jules
As much as I try to play this off like it’s nothing, my thoughts are a hurricane of Jake. I can’t just sit here and be normal and not think about him anymore. Because things have changed… Jake and I aren’t just “see each other in class” friends now… we are friends who will hang out at a soccer party this Friday.
Maybe I’m overthinking this.
We are still just friends after all. So maybe it’s not a big deal.
The microwave beeps and Abby reaches up and takes out our bowl of queso. She stirs it with a chip and then takes a bite. “Hmm,” she says as she chews. “It should be a little hotter.” She places it back in the microwave then turns to me, putting a hand on her hip. “So what’s been up with you and your math partner?”
“Funny you should mention him…” I say. I pull out the barstool next to the kitchen island and take a seat. “I think he asked me to a party…”
“You think? Or he did?” Abby says, eyes wide as she waits for my answer, as if whatever I say next is a life or death sort of situation.
I shrug. “He said there’s a soccer party at Oliver’s house and he asked if I wanted to go.”
“With him?” Abby shrieks. “Like a date!”
I shake my head. “No… it’s not a date… but he invited me to a soccer party and those guys are popular. So… I guess I’m being invited to popular stuff now?”
The microwave beeps and Abby takes out our queso. This time the temperature passes her chip taste test. She pushes the bag of chips toward me as we hover around the kitchen island with our junk food.
“How did he say it?” Abby asks over a mouthful of queso. “Like… what were the words he used?”
I roll my eyes. “No. No way. I’m not going down this rabbit hole with you where we over analyze everything that happened with a boy. This is nothing. He doesn’t like me and I don’t like him. We will not be talking about this anymore.”
Abby groans. “I think he might like you, though! He’s always Snapchatting you!”
“That’s because we’re always talking about school work. That’s it, nothing else. It’s not like he tells me good morning and good night each day or anything.”
“Maybe he’s just waiting to make his move,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
I give her a look. “No, he’s not. We are just school friends. End of discussion.”
Abby dips a chip into the queso then points it at me. “Okay, fine. Here’s the deal: if he picks you up and drives you to that party, it’s a date. If he doesn’t, then it’s not a date and I’ll totally drop it.”
She makes a good point, but I’m not going to admit that. Jake and I didn’t talk about how we’d get to this party on Friday… I just said I would go. A flutter
of nervous energy rises up in my stomach as I think about it.
The very next day, I’m still thinking about it as I walk into first period. Jake tells me good morning like he always does, and I say it back to him like I always do, and then Mr. Casey passes out our first big exam. We have to do the exams with our partners, so Jake and I murmur to each other all class period, but there’s no spare time to chat about anything else. The bell rings about five seconds after we turn in our tests. Mr. Casey pulled out all the stops on this test… it was hard. Jake is incredible at math and we still had several problems we had to work out a few times to get the answers. Something tells me our teacher did that on purpose to make us work harder with our partners.
I’m walking out of class when I hear Jake call my name. “Wait up,” he says as he jogs down the hallway to catch up with me.
Every girl in our vicinity is looking at him. And at me, for walking with him. How does he put up with this kind of attention?
“What’s up?” I say.
“I need your address.”
“Why?” I ask. More looks come our way from girls walking by us. They’re clearly trying to eavesdrop on our conversation. “Are you putting me on your Christmas card list?”
He grins. “No, for the party on Friday. I figure I’ll get you around eight? We don’t want to get there too early and look like losers.”
I swallow. Abby is going to freak. I might actually freak. He wants to pick me up and drive me to this party. That makes it sort of a date? Oh no. No, no, no. I can’t date anyone this year and I certainly can’t date Jake. All I have to do is remind myself how Trevor broke my heart over social media and I’ll snap back to reality and remember why I promised myself I wouldn’t date. Boys are not worth it.
But I also want to go to this party. It could be a fun thing to do. And doing fun things was part of my plan for this year, so long as those fun things don’t involve dating boys…
The Square root of falling: A Brazos High Novella Page 4