Page 35 of Fade into You
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing, nothing. You’re just a little…” She trails off.
“A little what?” I ask.
“I dunno. Different.”
“You know, I can never tell if you’re insulting me or—”
“I’m not,” she interrupts, her face for once very serious. “I’m not insulting you.”
I clear my throat once again. Take out my notebook and open to a clean page, bypassing the photo still stationed insidethe front cover. “So,” I begin, pencil in hand. “We clearly need some new ideas. Better ideas.”
“Right. You got any?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking… roller-skating? I mean, Kayla’s really bad at it and she hates not being good at stuff. That right there could be an advantage.” I write it down.
“Meh. Dade’s pretty good on wheels, though.”
And I flip my pencil upside down to erase the words, when I feel Jessa’s hand close over mine for just a moment before she pulls back.
“Hold on. Hold on just a second,” she says. “Okay, Skateopia, by the mall? There’s this girl. At least, last year there was this girl who worked there. Umm, I can’t think of her name—Daria Dana, Dani, I dunno—but she was smokin’ hot, and Dade had the most enormous hard-on for her.”
“Ew,” I interject.
“Okay, most enormouscrushon her,” she amends, rolling her eyes at my distaste. “Ever.They were constantly flirting with each other. It’s literally why he got into skating so much. So annoying, but maybethat’sthe advantage we’ve been looking for? Get them thinking about other people?”
“That could really work, Jessa.”
“Yeah, I think so. I mean, I suck ass at skating, but… I’d be willing to take one for the team.” She pauses and looks off into the space above my head, smiling. “And hey, it would be great if Kayla biffed it hard and embarrassed herself right in front of Dade and the hot girl.”
And there it is. Just when I think I’m changing my mindabout her, she says something like that. “That wouldn’t begreat. She could get hurt. We’re not trying to maim anyone here, Jessa.”
“No, I didn’t—”
“That’s not funny,” I tell her, and I surprise myself at how commanding I sound.
“I… no, I know. I’m sorry. I just—”
“Well, don’t say stuff like that, then,” I interrupt. “It’s mean. This whole thing is already mean, and I don’t love the idea of my best friend getting hurt emotionally. I really don’t want her to get hurt physically.”
“I don’t either!” she says, raising her voice to match mine.
“Okay!” I shout back.
“Okay,” she mumbles, closing her eyes tight. “Can we please not yell at each other? I fucking cannot stand yelling. I hear enough of it at home.”
My heart. On the seesaw again. Tipping back in the other direction. “All right,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”
She opens her eyes, but just stares at her hands now, and I wish I was one of those people who’s good at small talk. I wish I could think of anything to say. But I can’t. In my bag, I have my old pack of Djarums from the summer, with only two cloves left. I pull out the pack and place one between my lips. The lighter Kat gave me is trying to die, but I flick it anyway, over and over and over. Until Jessa’s hands are in front of my face, lit Zippo in one while the other is shielding the flame from the soft breeze floating around us.
“Thanks,” I tell her, and exhale the smoke. “I have one more if you want?”
She shakes her head, finally making eye contact again, squinting at me slightly, the way I’ve come to recognize, when she’s thinking about saying something.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s weird that you smoke those.”
