The Sophomore (College Years 2)

Carson: Sorry we can’t get together. See you tomorrow?

Me: For sure.

Jackson hovers over my shoulder, trying to see who I’m talking to and I dodge away from him, sending him a glare. “So nosy.”

“Carson, huh?”

That’s all he says. And oh my God, I am probably reading way too much into this, into his reaction, the look on his too gorgeous face, but…

He seems a little jealous.

“We were supposed to go to the movies tonight,” I admit.

“Did you just cancel on him?” He raises a single brow.

I nod.

“Did you tell him what happened?”

I nod again.

“And he didn’t try and make shit better by offering to buy you dinner?” He shakes his head before waiting for my response. “What a chump.”

I had the same thoughts. Jackson would’ve tried to make my day brighter because I’m feeling low. I know he would’ve. That’s just how he is.

The mechanic comes out, wiping his dirty hands on a red rag as he talks to us.

“Afraid it’s the alternator,” he says. “It went out.”

My heart sinks. “Oh no.”

“How much to fix it?” Jackson asks.

“Probably around eight hundred bucks. I’ll go draw up an estimate so you can look it over.” The mechanic leaves us to go to the counter, where he starts tapping away on an old desktop computer.

“I can’t afford that,” I whisper to Jackson. “That’s over half what I paid for my car.”

“I know. I’ll take care of it.” He reaches over and pats my knee.

“Jackson.” I settle my hand over his, ignoring the sparks that ignite between our hands. They’re all one-sided, those sparks. He doesn’t feel it. Not like I do. “I can’t let you pay for that. Fixing my car. It’s too much.”

“I don’t mind. Let me do it. You need a car, El. To get to school, to work, whatever. I want to help you. Let me help you.” His voice is soft, as is his gaze when it settles on my face. We’re sitting so close to each other in this cramped waiting room. Our shoulders brushing, his leg pressed against mine. I can feel his breath on my face. If I lean in and tilt my head just so, his mouth could end up on mine….

“Here’s your estimate.”

We jerk away from each other at the sound of the mechanic’s gruff voice above us.

Jackson takes the piece of paper, scanning it briefly before meeting the mechanic’s gaze once more. “Go ahead and fix it.”

He didn’t even give me a chance to say anything. To argue. To protest. He’s just going to do it. I’m a little irritated by him taking the situation completely over, but then again…

I’m also glad. I didn’t know what to do, or how to make this work.

“I should have it finished in about two days,” the mechanic says.

“Two days?” I jump to my feet. “But I need my car back tonight.”

“Might be three.” He shrugs, not giving a shit about my problems. “Have to order the part. Sometimes that takes a while, especially with cars as old as that one.”