TEN

Waking up was strange.

It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the sun shining through the curtain-less windows. Once they did, I had to remember where I was. Last night's memories flooded my brain and I took a deep breath, looking over to the other side of the bed.

It was empty, the spot where Jameson was laying. I sat up, running my hands over my face. The door was closed, but I could hear hushed whispers on the outside. I climbed out of bed as quietly as I could and tiptoed to the door, eavesdropping.

I couldn't hear much. "But you're sure it's him?" Matt asked and I could hear he seemed hesitant.

"Yes," Jameson said. "I don't know how or why, but it's definitely him."

My eyebrows furrowed. Were they talking about me? I heard Matt sigh. "We both know I can't stop you from going through with this," he said, "but I think it's too dangerous right now."

It felt wrong to keep listening like this, so I backed up to the bed and sat down. I pulled out my phone to check my messages. My mom had texted, upset that I hadn't told her I wasn't coming home. I sent back an apology, promising it wouldn't happen again. Dylan had also texted, saying his dad was such an asshole, so I replied asking what happened.

Just as I'd hit send, Jameson opened the door. I looked up. He looked frustrated, his face a little red and his chest rising and falling a bit faster. I was glad I hadn't kept listening.

"Good morning," I said carefully.

"Morning," he replied. "You wanna go get breakfast?"

I tried not to linger on his mood shift, but it was hard to ignore. He usually seemed so nonchalant, so cool. It was weird to see him angry. But I nodded, nonetheless, standing up to join him.

"Are you okay?" I asked. He looked at me and his expression softened instantly.

He smiled and reached up to adjust my uneven hoodie strings. "I'm okay," he said, holding a strong eye contact with me that made my knees buckle. "Thanks for staying last night. It was nice having you here."

My cheeks heated up against my will. "Oh, heh," I fake laughed, trying to turn away to hide my face. "It was nothing– I mean, I liked it, too. Any time."

Jameson chuckled, turning away towards the door. I silently screamed at the wall for being such a spaz in the worst times. I followed him out into the living room and Matt was nowhere to be found.

When we were in my car, I asked where he wanted to go. "I don't care, anywhere is fine," he said. "How about the place you work?"

For some reason, I thought he wouldn't mention the fact that he knew where I worked. Thinking back on the first time I saw him, the first time I felt the chills on the back of my neck, when we made direct eye contact, made me wonder how we got here. I should have seen that was a red flag.

"Okay, sure," I mumbled, pulling my hood over my head and tightening the strings. "The food's not the best."

"I don't care," he said, reaching over and placing a hand on my thigh. I slammed on the brakes upon reaching a red light despite having plenty of time to stop. "Calm down, Speed Racer. Is this okay?"

My voice came out a lot higher than I intended it to. "I, uh . . . Yeah, that's okay," I blurted, looking down at his hand. He squeezed lightly and I had to glare out the window to keep from swerving. I managed to keep us alive all the way to the diner, where we sat in the parking lot for a moment. He kept his hand on my thigh for a second longer, smiling knowingly at me.

"You're hard to resist, Petals."

And then he got out of the car, leaving me to take a giant breath. He leaned on the front of the car while I collected myself. I just knew he was aware of the effect he had on me.

I think I had to put an end to this. Jameson was a cool guy and I liked being friends with him but we couldn't do any more of the borderline stuff. I couldn't be gay, I just couldn't. How would I be able to look my mother in the eye? I wasn't sure how I came so close to telling Dylan about it because he probably would have spit in my eye and left.

I walked briskly past him straight to the front door. He laughed behind me and in my head, I heard 'Didn't think it was that easy to make you squirm' and I stopped just before I grabbed the handle. He smiled innocently, hands in his pockets. There were people walking up so I gave him a warning glare and answered back, 'This is my job, Jameson.' He raised his hands up in surrender.

Some of the servers greeted me when we walked in, eyeing Jameson curiously. I got us a table for two and we slid into a booth.

"I have to tell you something," I said nervously, biting the inside of my cheek. Jameson looked at me expectantly, leaning back in his seat. I paused while the waitress took our drink orders and didn't speak until she was out of earshot. "I don't know if . . . I don't think I'm gay, or whatever."

I said the last part in a whisper, regardless of us being only one of two tables in our section. Jameson just stared at me, not saying anything.

"So I don't really want you to get the wrong idea," I continued, feeling very intimidated under his gaze. The server brought our drinks and took our orders, leaving us alone once again. "And I think maybe you should stop doing things like . . . what you did in the car because it's just confusing me."

Jameson smiled softly. I tried to understand what was going through his head when I felt his foot under the table push its way in between my ankles, resting there. I pressed my lips together. He rubbed his ankle against mine casually. "So you don't want me to touch you anymore?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"No more cuddling?" He smirked.

"Right."

"No more thinking about kissing you?"

My breath caught in my throat and he noticed. He removed his leg from mine and sat straight. I buried my face in my hands and rubbed my eyes harshly, trying to will these feelings away.

"It's just easier if we stayed friends," I said.

Jameson nodded, looking past me. We sat there for a while without speaking. Long enough for our food to come. I worried that I upset him, which only confirmed the vibes I was getting from him. That meant he liked me back. I guess I could have figured that out by the way he acted towards me.

We ate in silence, though he barely picked at his eggs, and I desperately wanted to take back what I said.

Maybe that was dumb. I knew I liked him. I knew I had to have some kind of feelings for him whether I was gay or not. Why did I have to fight it? It was the first time I'd ever thought of anybody in that way. And now we were sitting here and he wouldn't even look at me and this wasn't what I fucking wanted.

"I'm sorry–"

"No, I get it."

But I didn't think he did get it. He didn't understand that I wasn't sure of myself anymore. I felt so uncomfortable in my skin, like I didn't recognize my reflection in my cup of water. But I was still me. My brain was at a civil war that had no chance of turning back.

He paid for our food at the end and while we waited for the server to return with his change, I leaned forward and looked at him.

"Jameson."

"Cade."

I pouted, kind of wishing he'd called me Petals. "Don't make it weird," I said. He looked at me with a far away emotion, like his eyes saw right through me. "I know I might have seemed like . . . like I felt the same. But I don't."

My heart sank when he suddenly looked angry, his jaw clenched tightly while I said the words. "Yeah, I fucking get it, Cade," he snapped just before our waitress came back, looking a bit uncomfortable with interrupting us. I thanked her, telling her I'd see her later that night at my shift.

Jameson ignored the change on the table and just stormed out. My entire body felt like it was on fire. I sat for a second, just staring at the ground.

Why did I do that?

Last night was good. I got to be close to him and touch him and smell him and wake up with him. But then I just ruined it all. Jameson was the most intriguing boy in my entire town, and he liked me back, but I blew it.

I sighed and walked out of the diner, finding him leaning on the front of my car again. He didn't look up when I approached. "Take me home," he ordered, getting into the car. I wanted to kick something really hard. This was all my fault. And for what? My stupid ego?

Sliding into the driver's seat, I grumbled under my breath. I didn't start the car right away, just sat there.

"I'm not angry with you," Jameson breathed out, making me look over at him in surprise. "I'm not mad about what you said because I know you're lying. I have bigger problems than that."

I opened my mouth, ready with a defense, but he cut me off.

"I'm leaving Edgewood soon."

My jaw dropped, as did my keys, and I turned to face him completely. "Wait, what?"

Jameson looked over at me guiltily. "I was going to leave without telling you," he muttered with a sigh. I couldn't look away from his sad hazel eyes, and for once he was avoiding eye contact. "But I don't think I could go without saying goodbye."

"When?" I demanded.

"Soon."

"When?"

"I don't know, Cade!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "A few days? A week? I don't know."

I slumped back in my seat, looking away. "You're right," I coughed out, really hoping I wasn't about to cry over this. As small and weak as he made me feel, I refused to let him see me cry. "I was lying."

Jameson reached for my hand but I moved away before he could touch it. Instead of dwelling on what he said or waiting for a response, I turned the car on and started driving. I wasn't going to let my emotions show until he was out of my car, like he'd soon be out of my life.

He just showed up in my town and made me feel things I didn't want to feel, only to leave at the snap of his fingers? How was that fair? And sure, maybe it wasn't about me. Maybe he had things going on that I wasn't allowed to know. But why was I supposed to give a shit about it if I'm not trusted enough to know the truth?

"Cade . . ."

I just shook my head, gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. He sighed and leaned on the door, but his eyes remained on me. We drove in silence all the way back to his apartment and I waited for him to get out. He didn't.

Jameson grabbed my hand from my lap. "I'm going to come see you one more time before I go," he said and I didn't argue, refusing to look at him. "Okay?"

"Whatever," I mumbled.

He squeezed my hand, bringing it to his lips. I looked over when he kissed the back of my hand softly, his eyes squeezed shut. My lips trembled, so conflicted about what was going on. Before I had a chance to say anything, he was getting out of the car and stalking into the building, his head down. I sighed, staring at the chipped brick wall of the apartment building for a moment.

Did I have any right to be upset?

He was only here for a moment, a split second. I hardly fucking knew him. But the connection I felt for him . . . the attachment I was starting to grasp onto . . . This was going to kill me. I knew it would. He showed me things I didn't know were possible, he told me secrets that I was sworn to keep until the end of time. And now that he was leaving, I had to keep them alone. My heart pounded in my chest at the thought.

I had only spent the night with him once. We obviously had some emotional feelings between us. It wasn't just me that wanted to kiss. The first time in my fucking life that I was starting to like somebody for real and they're leaving me.

My anger got the best of me and I slammed my fist into my dashboard. With my chest heaving and tears stinging at my eyes again, I started my car and drove home. I couldn't listen to music or anything. I just drove with my head clouded and eyes forward.

Mom was in the living room when I got there. I slammed the front door shut harder than I had meant to, making her look up with her eyebrows furrowed. "Watch what you're slamming, Rocky," she tried to joke, but stood up when she saw the state I was in. I allowed her to rush over to me, pulling me in for a hug.

The waterworks came before I could stop them. I sobbed into her shoulder, holding her shoulder blades like I was going to disappear. She shushed me and rubbed my back soothingly, but I couldn't stop crying.

"What is wrong?" she asked.

I pulled back and composed myself, taking deep breaths to push through the last of the sobs that tried to come out. "He's leaving me, Momma," I whimpered. My voice broke, coming out raspy and cracked. "The boy I wanted to tell you about. He . . . he's leaving."

"Oh, honey," she cooed, pulling me in again. Trevor came running into the room when he heard the commotion, hugging my legs. "What do you want for supper? I'll make your favorite and we can all watch a movie tonight, okay?"

But I didn't want to watch a movie with them. I didn't want to choose what we were having for dinner, or to see my friends tomorrow. I didn't want any of it. I wanted things to go back to before he told me he was leaving.

I wanted Jameson to want to stay with me.