It's been almost two weeks since I last spoke to Jack. I've seen him numerous times around school since our last conversation on my doorstep, but I wouldn't even count those times as really 'seeing' him considering he wouldn't even look my way. Now that my job at the library is over, I can't help but wonder if Jack still visits. If he's still reading. If he's still writing.
Last week, I tried to wave at him in the hallway but Jordana quickly made it a point to tug at his arm and pull him in the opposite direction. Speaking of Jordana, she's always around Jack now that the whole school knows that their golden boy is back on the market. The walls at Sinclair Prep are thin. Everyone talks and words travel fast.
So far, the hardest sight for me was seeing Jack and Jordana at practice. I was on the field for track, Jack was on the adjacent one for lacrosse, and Jordana was on the same one as him for cheer. I don't think he caught me staring, but I saw him touch the corner of her lip and wipe at the spot after she drank from her water bottle. I forced myself to look away. And not just with my eyes, but with my whole body. That's how painful it was to see him with someone else.
I wonder if there'll ever come a day where I won't want him anymore, where I'll be able to let go of everything that reminds me of him. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
I guess for now it can't be that way because part of me doesn't want to let go. Part of me wants to hold on.
"There you are," I hear Henry call out as he strides toward me on the track field wearing a gray t-shirt with Sinclair Prep's logo on it and black shorts. I feel like I haven't seen him in a while. Or Molly, for that matter. My thoughts have been so consumed by Jack that it's hard to pay attention to anyone else that isn't him. Luckily, I've made it a point to get back on track with my schoolwork, but even that's been hard.
Dad and I are still tiptoeing around the topic of my mom, and that's only because I'm still holding a grudge toward him. I'm not looking to make my dad feel bad, but I'm also hurting so it's hard for me to forget the pain and make it seem like everything's okay. I do know that I have to talk to him, and I plan on doing that tonight.
"Hey," I say, bending my knee and pulling my leg behind my back to stretch my quad.
"Firing those legs up, I see."
"Damn right. How else am I going to beat you in our next race?"
"So that's how it's going to be, huh? Should've just let you win last time."
"Hey, I wanna win fair and square!" I tell him.
"Fine. How about right now? End of the field and back?"
"Now?" I gulp, and he smiles. "Fine. You're on!"
Henry and I take our positions at the white line and I count us off. On 3, we both make a sprint for the other end of the field, and I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I'm in the lead.
I make it to the finish line right before Henry does. "WOOOO!" I cheer, pumping my fists in the air and doing a little dance as Henry dips his head down and smiles.
"I can't believe I lost," he says, shaking his head and clutching onto his waist.
He makes his way over to the grass and sits down to tie the laces on one of his sneakers. I walk over to him with a smile on my face.
"That was a good race," he says. He centers his body back and then reaches his hand out for me. "Help me up?"
"Yeah," I say, taking his hand with mine, but he brings me down next to him.
"Hey," I laugh when my body hits the grass, and playfully shove at his shoulders.
"Sorry," he laughs back. "Did I hurt you?"
"No. I let you do that," I joke.
"Right, right," he nods, wrapping his hands around his knees.
My laughter dies off as his does, too, and he's looking at me in a way that he never really has before. His face makes its way closer to mine and that's when it hits me. He's going to kiss me. He's mere inches from my face, but I stop him with my hand.
"Henry," I shake my head, but before he can say anything back, I hear:
"I can't believe what I'm seeing."
I center my head to find Molly standing there with shock etched across her face.
"Mol," I begin, immediately getting up to a stand, but she starts to walk the other way. "Molly, wait," I continue to call out to her. "That was nothing."
She's close enough for me to grab her arm, but when I do, she swipes it back so fast.
"Really?" she condescendingly chuckles. "Didn't look like 'nothing' to me."
"We were just racing. It was a game."
"This may be a game to you, Stassie, but it's not to me."
"I know," I softly say.
"I asked you point blank if you had feelings for Henry and you told me no. Yet, here I am, showing up to surprise my friends only to be the one getting surprised."
"I don't have feelings for Henry."
"So, what? You were just going to kiss him for fun?"
"It wasn't like that, Molly. I stopped him before he could kiss me."
"Sure," she mocks, turning back around.
"Molly," I say, running up to her so that I can get in front of her.
"Get out of my way, Stassie."
"Can you just talk to me, please?"
"I have nothing to say to you. What I saw was enough," she says, pushing at my shoulder and walking away.