Page 24 of Jacob

“Yes, you were,” he scoffs.

“He asked me out, and I said yes. That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. I’m not sure if you know this, but I wanted you to ask me out. Properly. Officially. But you never did.”

I had prayed to the heavens above for Jacob to ask me out on a date back then. As our friendship blossomed over the weeks, we grew closer, laughed more, and spent so much time together. Most of the time it was just the two of us, but no matter howmuch I wanted him to, Jacob never tried to kiss me. I guess I stopped wishing he would see me as more than just a friend. I didn’t think I had a chance at more with him.

“Then Owen asked me out to the movies and the only reason I said yes was because I didn’t think you were interested in me likethat, Jay.”

His head snaps back at my news, his brow wrinkling. “Are you serious? How could you not have known? I spent every single free minute with you. Who was the one that walked you home? Who asked you to go to the ice cream parlor on weekends? Who read to you and joined you in the library? Sat with you inside the castle waiting around as you filled your sketchbooks to the brim?”

I whisper, “You.”

“Me.” He pokes his chest. “And never, not once, did you ever look at me the way you looked at Owen.”

That’s not true. I did see him. Every day. “But you never gave me any indication that you even so much as liked me romantically. You never made it seem like you wanted anything more than friendship between us.”

His nostrils flare, and the timbre of his voice drops a few levels. “Have you forgotten who made sure you got home before curfew? Or who looked after you when you got tipsy? Who took you home when you ripped your dress at prom, and who helped you fill out your art college application?”

It was always Jacob. Owen was always too busyhaving fun.

And I only just learned that Jacob even bought my Christmas and birthday presents, all lovingly disguised and labeled up from Owen.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask, rubbing my water-wrinkled fingers into my temples. Recalling our teenage memories is giving me a headache.

He takes his time considering what he says next. “I was waiting. I don’t know what for, but I waited.” Every muscle tensed, reminding me of a sixteen-year-old Jacob who was uncomfortable talking about his feelings. “I was a skinny kid, who wasn’t good at chatting with girls romantically. Especially girls that look like you.”

“Look like me?” I repeat, wondering if I’m dreaming all this right now.

“Have you seen you, Skye? Even when you were sixteen, you were fucking beautiful.” He stands up suddenly, causing the bubbles to slosh over the sides. “You would never have gone with a skinny, dorky dude like me.”

“I did like you.” I stand up, furious that he saw himself that way. “I loved who you were, and I wanted you to ask me out or kiss me.”

He steps forward, closing the space between us, but standing far enough away that I can’t reach him.

“But the night you went to the movies and kissed Owen, I lost you.”

“We were sixteen,” I cry, anger bubbling up inside me at a situation I can’t change.

“And that kiss sealed our fate.”

“You sound like a parrot.” I move closer, prodding him in his solid chest. “So you can’t go after what you want because of some stupid promise you made when you were fourteen? Am I hearing this correctly?”

“We had a verbal agreement. No touching, dating, or kissing ex-girlfriends. I’ve never broken it.”

“And do you think Owen kept his promise?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.” He shakes his head. “He’s my best friend.” He sounds pained.

“And he treated me like shit.”

“And you let him.” He clenches his fists into tight balls by his sides.

A wave of furious heat scalds my skin as our conversation turns sour. “I did notlethim.”

“You fucking did. Every time he split up with you, he went with other girls, and you took him back again and again. Did he show you he loved you? Not just with words, but actions?”

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