He moves to sit across from me. The steam of the water swirls against the cold air. Underwater lights make both of us glow. His face is blue. Handsome. Sad.
“Freshman year, Christina and I dated. It was totally dumb—two popular fourteen-year-olds—the jock and the cheerleader playing it up for the school. We acted older than we were, more experienced. Going to parties like this was the norm. I was living at home then and really struggling with my dyslexia. I’d managed to charm my way through elementary and middle school, but all that blew up in my face when I got to Sierra Academy. My teachers, coaches, and everyone else started to figure it out and they helped me squeak by. Only two people knew the truth about my learning disability then: Christina and Claire.”
“And Claire was a cheerleader back then?” I ask.
“Yep, best friends with Christina and, by association, me. Christina wanted us to be ’the clique,’ and by all appearances, we had it all. They were gorgeous. I was killing it on the field. Christina and I made the homecoming court and things were great—until they weren’t.”
“What happened?”
He runs his han
d through his hair. “Rumors started floating around about Chris and another guy. When I confronted her about it, she laughed in my face and told me to grow up. I found out she was having sex with him—an older guy. Something she and I hadn’t done yet. Sure, we played it up, but both of us were virgins. I was scared shitless of girls. I figured someday we’d do it, but we hadn’t. I guess I was moving too slow for her.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re telling me you, the guy, was moving too slow for her? I know I’m a little naïve, but I’m not stupid, Jake.”
He shakes his head and swishes his feet around. “I wasn’t ready, Starlee. I think deep down I knew I didn’t really trust Chris.”
“So, what? Did you break up with her?”
“I did. And Claire took my side when gossip began to spread. Chris didn’t like how she looked in the story—you heard her. Fairy tales. That’s what she likes. So she flipped it on us. She told the school our secrets.”
“She told everyone you have dyslexia?”
“Yep, and that Claire’s a lesbian.”
“Wow.”
“She told the whole school that she let me cheat off of her and that Claire only joined the cheer squad to creep on girls in short skirts. It was embarrassing for everyone to know I couldn’t read, but it was way worse for Claire. She wasn’t ready to come out.” I could still hear the anger in his voice. Not so much for himself, but for Claire.
“That’s awful. She’s awful.”
“The worst and I’ve managed to stay clear from her for the last three years, but she’s got some kind of hard-on about us going to homecoming together and posing as king and queen. This is why I wanted to make it clear I had no intention of going with her by announcing publicly I’m going with you instead.”
“What’s she going to do when she finds out I’m your date?”
His hands grip the edge of the hot tub. “Before tonight, I figured she’d just move on.”
“You totally underestimated her level of crazy.”
He laughs darkly. “Yeah, I think I did. You don’t have to go with me, Starlee. You can go with one of the other guys or not at all or whatever it is you want to do.”
I think for a minute, listening to the bubbles of the hot tub and the laughter and the music coming from the house. Christina is scary. Really scary. She’s like every mean girl fear all rolled into one and in middle school, I would have died before standing up to her.
But I’m not in middle school anymore. I’m not the same girl. So, I stand and walk across the hot tub and position myself in front of Jake. He tilts his head and looks up at me expectantly. “I think Christina underestimated something, too.”
His hands move to my hips. “Yeah? What’s that.”
“Me and how I feel about you. How I’m not going to let her bully the two of us. How she’s not going to ruin my first and only homecoming dance.”
The smile on his mouth starts slowly but then spreads wide. “You’ll still go with me?”
“Yep.”
I bend down and kiss him, slowly at first and then a little deeper. Jake responds, the relief palpable. His hands push past my braids, fingers curling around my neck, and he stands, stepping down into the hot tub so we’re the same height.
“You’re getting soaked,” I say, looking down at his drenched legs.
“I don’t care,” he mutters between kisses. “Not one bit.”