Page 254 of We Shouldn't Be Together
I excuse myself under the guise of using the bathroom, and make my way toward Jamie. I’ve never hung out with her outside of school. However, our lunch table experiences have been less than desirable. Even so, I want to make a good impression. I want to be a good customer, and a good human.
Jamie is scribbling in a notebook. As I approach, I notice the subtitles over each set of bullet points. Amazing. She’s still working on her assignments. I’m so happy she’s turning things around in order to keep her scholarship.
“Wow, you’re working at the café and on schoolwork,” I say, cautious she’ll freak out on me. “I’m impressed.”
“My coach will be here soon,” Jamie replies, checking over her work. “He gave me and Milo an extra credit assignment for this weekend.”
“Oh, yeah. Kai mentioned that.”
Jamie’s eyes roll. “He’s still complaining?”
I snigger, inching my thumb and index finger apart. “Just a little.”
She side-eyes me. “At least he had you to distract him.”
I flinch. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“Good,” she answers, no longer snarling at me. “I needed him out of my hair, and beyond a reasonable doubt, the guy is crazy about you.”
“Oh. Umm, yeah. Things are going great with us.”
I blink at her a few times. Jamie and I are actually talking. Sentences. And the fact Kai and I are a couple doesn’t seem to enrage her.
“So, is it a health class assignment?” I ask, hoping to keep the conversation easy. “It’s not something Coach Oliver can spring on us, is it?”
“I doubt it. Coach Anders says it’s no longer in the curriculum. It’s an assignment on how to take care of a baby.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. And that’s why I was glad you and Kai went on a date last night. This isn’t exactly something I could abandon and go to the skatepark instead.”
“So, this weekend you’ve been working on an assignment to take care of a baby?Eww. I hope I never get that assignment.”
Jamie smirks. “Don’t flunk your classes, and you won’t.”
“Noted. Wow, I can’t believe it was ever part of the curriculum for teenagers to learn how to take care of babies. But I guess young parents do exist. Hey, your mom was sixteen when she had you, right?”
She stiffens, backing up slightly. “Yes.”
“I couldn’t imagine. Did she cope, or is that why she left?” My mind races through episodes of the Crime Spree’d podcast, remembering if there was an episode on runaway teen moms. “She’s a missing person, right?”
“She didn’t leave,” Jamie yelps, and it causes my back to coat in sweat. “My mom loved me.”
My eyes water and my chin drops.
What did I just say? Did I really just say that about her mother?
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean anything…” I slap my forehead. What’s wrong with me? “Geez, I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry.”
Jamie shakes it off, muttering, “It’s fine.”
No, it’s not.
“Look, that picture Camila found,” I blurt, “I had nothing to do with…”
“Don’t!” she yells, holding her hands up like stop signs. “I can’t hear this,” her voice quivers. “This is where I work, and my coach will walk in any minute.”
I back away, hating how much my bottom lip quirks with the threat of sobs. I want to say it aloud, but all I can manage is to mouth the words, “I’m sorry.”
