"So, where are we off to next?" Jack surprises me when he asks. He's trailing behind me as I make my way to my locker, so I turn my body to look at him as my fingers stay grasping the straps of my pink backpack.
"Excuse me?"
"Well, I just figured, since we're working on repairing our relationship, we should keep this good momentum going."
"Repairing our relationship?" I ask, tucking my chin in like that'll make me understand better.
"Yes, repairing our relationship. I don't want your apology. I want you to stop acting like a jerk," he says, repeating my words from earlier today but changing his tone to sound more like me. "Let me convince you that I'm not one."
"Okay, one â I don't sound like that. And two â I don't have time for this. I have somewhere to be."
"Great. I have nowhere to be, so somewhere sounds perfect to me."
"And what if I want to be alone?"
"No one ever really wants to be alone, Stas."
"You know? You have the tendency to speak your words as if they're facts. For your information, I love being alone. I thrive on being alone."
"That's because you don't let people in enough to know the difference."
"Jack...," I huff.
"Yes?"
"Can't you ever just...shut up? For like 5 minutes?"
"For 5 minutes? That's like a century. Plus, you'd miss me too much."
"I doubt that."
I start to pick up my pace again, but that just gets Jack to do the same. So, I stop in place for a second time and exhale. "You're testing my patience."
"Guess it needed to be tested."
I sigh as he stands there with his shoulders shrugged and a cocky grin on his face. "Fine. But don't ask any questions."
***
"So, where exactly am I driving you?" Jack asks. I'm in the passenger seat of his Maserati, and every time I try upping the volume on the radio, Jack brings it back down.
"I said no questions, remember?"
"Hey, I never agreed to that."
"Just follow the navigation," I say, pointing my finger to the screen.
Luckily, he keeps silent for the rest of the drive, and puts the car in park when we enter this ghostly lot that's surrounded by empty stores with FOR RENT signs on their display windows.
Jack unfastens his seatbelt and pushes his door open.
"Uh, what are you doing?" I ask him before he can exit the car.
"Coming with you..."
"No. You're staying right here. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Stas, you took me to some creepy-looking parking lot with no explanation."
"There is an explanation. I just don't feel like sharing it with you right now."
"Great. Guess I'm coming with you then..."
I stop arguing when I realize that I'm not winning this little battle and try to pretend like Jack's not even here. This is already embarrassing enough for me as it is.
"Want me to hold that for you?" he asks, nodding his head at my backpack as he meets my stance.
"No."
"It looks heavy."
"Jack...quiet. Please."
We stop in front of my destination â a Goodwill store â and Jack's eyes peer up at the awning. He doesn't say anything when we walk in, and I make my way over to the counter.
"Hey, Shelley," I greet the employee standing behind the register.
"Hey, Stassie. Dropping some more clothes off?"
"Mhm," I say, setting my backpack on the glass surface and unzipping it. I pull out 10 articles of clothing, including a sweater that my dad just bought me. I notice Jack looking on wearily as I slide the clothes toward her.
"What are you doing?" he whispers. "Those look brand new."
He's not wrong. They are. But he doesn't need to know that.
Shelley inspects each article of clothing and then says, "Sorry, sweetie. But I can't take this t-shirt. There's a tear over here."
"Ah, sorry, I must've missed that."
"No worries. I can accept everything else. I'll be right back with the prices."
The second that Shelley walks away, Jack turns his body to face me. "Stas, this isn't necessary."
"Jack. Don't."
"If you need the money, I'll give it to you. Just don't sell your clothes."
"I'm not your charity case, Jack. Just leave it alone."
"I know you're not, Stas," he softly speaks, then pauses. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just...I don't think you should sell your shit for a few hundred bucks."
I turn my body to look at him, propping my elbow on the glass countertop. "Not all of us have the luxury of being able to afford the things that we want, Jack."
"I know, Stas, I know. But I can help, so why not let me?"
"I don't need you feeling bad for me."
"I don't. And I won't. I won't if you let me help. But if you don't let me help... if you sell your clothes right now...I will." I keep quiet and he presses me. "C'mon, Stas. Take your clothes back and let's get out of here."
I center my body back to find Shelley returning with a receipt in her hand, so I force a smile on my face. Jack doesn't know this, but I'm lucky if the total value comes out to a couple of hundred bucks.
"Okay, hun, I can offer you $88 for everything," she says.
"$88?" Jack exclaims. "That's bullshit. She gave you like 50 things."
Shelley looks shocked, but centers her attention on Jack. "Oh. Uh. Items are priced on their condition, brand, and market value."
"Yeah, and everything looked to be in pristine condition, if you ask me."
"Jack!" I snap, but he ignores me. He removes my clothes from the plastic bin that Shelley put them in and holds them in his grip.
"Thanks, but no thanks. C'mon, Stas, let's go."
I grab them from his hold and angrily look at him. "Stop it."
"Stas...," he says, but it's followed by nothing else.
I turn to face Shelley, and reach the clothes back out to her. "Sorry, about that, Shelley. $88 sounds great to me."
***
Jack and I have been in the car for almost 15 minutes now without a word spoken. I'm staring out the window, but I know that he keeps looking at me every chance that he gets.
"Stas," he says, waiting for me to turn his way, so I give him the satisfaction and do. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to say what I said back there. You're right. I don't know what it's like to have to sell my things for money, but I know that it made me feel some type of way watching you have to."
"Thank you for your apology," I begin. "It's not something I have to do."
"Is it something you want to do?"
"No," I hoarsely say. "It's just that...college is going to be really expensive. And even though I'm banking on a full-time scholarship, what if I don't get one?"
"What if you do?"
"What if I don't? I want to be prepared. And, yes, $88 may not mean much to you or seem to make any kind of dent, but it is something. And even knowing that I contributed in some way would make me feel better."
Jack exhales as he listens to my words and then asks, "Does your dad know?"
"No."
"Because if he did, he wouldn't allow it, right?"
"Yeah," I confess, and Jack looks down in a disappointed manner.
"Stas, please just let me give you the mon-"
"Jack. Just...let me do this. Please."
"Can I just say one more thing and I'll drop it?"
"What?" I huff.
"If you ever need anything, will you just let me help? Please?"
"Jack..."
"I'm serious, Stas. Let me help."
"Okay," I say, keeping my gaze on him. "Okay."