Page 56 of Finding Jack
But we needed to talk. I needed to know who he was beneath the pretty hair and the jokes. I needed to find the real parts of Jack, and this was all designed to make it easier for him to share that with me. This would be fine. Right?
I drew my hand back. Right. This was right.
Finally, I grabbed a quick shower, pulled on a plain white tank top and jeans, and did my hair and makeup with more drama than usual to balance the understated outfit. I’d spent my whole college sophomore year learning to do perfect winged eyeliner, and I smiled at the effect in the mirror. Some soft pink lip stain and Jack would be putty in my hands. I blew my reflection a kiss. Nailed it.
With fifteen minutes to go, I double-checked the coffee table to make sure I had all my supplies. I opened my laptop to make sure the camera was the right height while keeping my surprises out of view. I was rearranging a few items when Ranée walked through the door.
She stopped short and peered at the large syringe in my hand. “Do I even want to know?”
“It’s for my date with Jack.”
“Well, sure. That was my first guess.”
“Are you going to be home tonight? If so, I’m doing this in my room.”
“I have a feeling whateverthisis, I’m going to prefer that you do it in your room anyway. But no, I’m going out again. I’m grabbing drinks with the accounting girls. I’ll be out of your way in a few minutes.”
I nodded and went back to figuring out where the syringe should go in the lineup. Ranée continued down the hallway. I didn’t even hear her bedroom door open before she marched back into the living room.
“I can’t take it. Just tell me. What are you up to?”
“Ha. You’re such a know-it-all that it’s nice to have you in the dark for once. I’m keeping it that way.”
“I hate you.”
“Do not.”
“Fine. I hate secrets. It’s very important for me to sit here until I get it out of you, but I like going out with friends on the weekend more than I like dragging your nonsense out of you, so I’m letting this go for now.”
I wiggled my fingers at her in a “shoo” gesture. “You didn’t hurt my feelings even a little bit. I know your tricks. Go away.”
She growled but checked her watch and retreated to her room again.
At 7:00 exactly, I FaceTimed Jack. He answered immediately. He wore a plain dark blue T-shirt, and his hair was in a messy topknot.
Dang. I wishedmyhair looked that good in a messy topknot. I really needed to get the name of his conditioner.
“Hi.” He smiled, and I lost my train of thought. I’d thought that I remembered how hot he was, but somehow the picture in my head—as vivid as it was—didn’t match up to the living, breathing Jack. Wow.
“Hi,” I said back.
His smile widened. “You look nice.”
Ah, guys. Sometimes they were so simple. A basic white tank top had the same effect as a little black dress on them. At least Jack was predictable this way even if I couldn’t predict much else about him.
“Thanks,” I answered. “You do too.”
“Yeah, well, I put a lot of thought into whether I should choose one of my five T-shirts or one of my six flannels. Glad I picked right.”
He had to know it would be impossible for him to choose wrong. But I let it go and started Phase One of Operation Crack Jack.
“So I feel like I know you so well and yet not at all,” I said. “Does that sound crazy?”
He pressed his lips together and tilted his head for a minute. It was his thinking face. How cute. See? I’d already learned something new about him: his pondering expression. This was going to be a productive night.
Finally he said, “No, it’s not crazy. I think in some ways you know me better than a lot of people in my life right now.”
I was very glad I was sitting down because I’d just discovered that “going weak in the knees” could actually happen in real life, not just Ranée’s cheesy novels that I stole and devoured when she was gone.
