Page 65 of Chess Not Checkers
“Oh—I—” Owen stutters from right inside the door. “If you throw me my phone, I can leave,” he finally gets out.
I heave a sigh and face him fully. “No, it’s okay. We should probably talk.”
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom real quick,” Jasmine squeaks out before getting up and speed-walking into my room—which does not have a bathroom.
“Should you tell her—”
“Jasmine and I are dating.”
“Oh, yeah, I knew that.”
My brows knit together. “No, it just happened. Today.”
“I thought you were spending all that time together because you were dating.”
I slide my hand down my face. Let’s hope no one else thinks that. “No, we—we’re—you know what? It doesn’t matter. We’re dating, and we’re going to tell Coach, but not until after homecoming.”
Owen blinks at me. “Okay.”
“So if you could just not tell anyone, that would be good.”
It dawns on me that he’s kept what he thought was a secret this whole time, but it makes me feel better knowing I asked.
He must sense that because he answers, “Sure.”
“Thank you,” I breathe out. “And I promise we’ll be less—” I gesture to the couch. “Like that when you’re around.”
He gives a stiff nod in response. I shove my hands in my pockets, not sure what to say now. Even if he was doing it before, it feels like a lot to ask him to keep a secret that could get him in trouble too. I stare at the floor.
“Does this mean you’re done being pathetic?” Owen breaks the ice first.
I look up as a laugh bursts out of me. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”
He shrugs.
“Yeah, I am. Thanks for trying to help,” I say.
He nods, then gestures to my door. “You can tell your girlfriend to stop hiding. I’ll be in my room.”
“Thanks, Owen. I mean it. We both appreciate this.”
His expression turns increasingly more awkward the more I say. He walks to his room, and I think he’s not going to say anything, when he pauses in the doorway. “Do you think you could get her to bring some more of her food when she comes by?”
“I can do my best.”
He bobs his head. “Good, because your cooking sucks.”
I let out another laugh. “So does yours.”
He heads into his room, but I think I hear him chuckling. Once his door shuts, I go and open mine. Jasmine is sitting on the edge of my bed, covering her face.
“That was the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me, and one time a bunch of the Carters set up beside me cheering at a game to cheer forme. Grayson said that even cheerleaders needed encouragement. They had pom-poms and everything,” she says.
I can’t help but laugh at that mental image.
“It’s not a big deal. I think all will be forgotten if you bring food whenever you come by. You’ve made us hate our own cooking.”
She looks up, a small smile replacing the nervous twist of her lips.
