“Are those your real teeth?” I spout off before I can stop myself.
His smile widens. “You think I have fake teeth?”
“I mean… maybe?” I shrug my shoulders.
He doesn’t say anything, just stands there with banana bread in his hands, and a grin on his face.
“Gah, forget I asked that.” I run my hands through my hair, cheeks flushing. “What’s your name, anyway?”
He breathes out a chuckle. “Man, are all the girls as cute as you around here?”
“Matter of perspective, I guess.” I shrug again, waiting for him to tell me his name. He doesn’t. “You know, some say it’s mighty rude to not return the favor when a person introduces themselves.”
“Some say, huh?” He places the banana bread on the ground, stepping over to me. My head is level to his chest, and he’s close enough that I have to crane my neck to maintain eye contact.
“My apologies, Alina May.” He picks up my left hand. “My name’s Jackson Rhoades, and believe me when I say it is my absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
I expect him to shake my hand, but instead, he brings it to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips across my knuckles in a whisper of a kiss.
I jerk my hand back, laughing with disbelief. “I think you may be what the old biddies in this town call a shameless flirt, Jackson.”
I take a few steps back, regaining my personal space. “That may work on girls wherever you come from, but you really shouldn’t waste your time on me. I don’t fall for empty words and pretty smiles.”
He nods, rocking back on his heels. “Noted.”
“But if you’re lookin’ for a friend, I can be that all day long. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty great at the whole friendship thing, so I recommend you take me up on my offer.”
“In that case, how can I refuse?” He smirks.
I widen my eyes. “Well, I don’t think you can. And since we’re friends now, I suppose you can call me Lee.”
“Alright, Lee. Then I suppose you can call me Jax.”
“Jax.” I test the nickname out loud, nodding my head in satisfaction.
“Do you always make friends like you’re doing a business transaction?”
“A what?”
He chuckles. “Never mind. You in high school yet?”
“I’ll be a freshman when the semester starts. How about you?”
“Supposed to be a junior, but got held back last year when my dad got sick.” He plays with a chain around his neck, his eyes flashing with grief.
“Is he better now?” I watch as the chain rolls between his fingers.
Both his face and his voice flatline. “He’s dead.”
“Oh,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. I don’t think he appreciates the apology, but it’s all I can think to give him.
“It is what it is.” He shrugs. “Anyway, thanks for the banana bread, I’m sure my mom will love it.” We both stand there, the air filling with awkward tension. I wish I could rewind time and bring back the Jackson from five minutes earlier.
“I’d introduce you to my brother, but he’s always tied up with basketball.” I roll my eyes. “But, one of my best friends, Chase, lives around here. I’ll send him over to say hi, although I don’t think your charm will work on him,” I tease.
He clears his throat. “Sure. Listen, as much as I’d like to stand around and chat all day, I really have better things to do, so if you’re done with the twenty questions...” He turns his face to the side.
I inhale sharply, dizzy from the complete one-eighty of his personality.
“Alright then.” I squint my eyes, pursing my lips. “Look… Jax, I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
He doesn’t give me any indication he heard what I said, but he doesn’t need to. I know when I’ve outstayed my welcome.
My shoulders hunch. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
I book it off his porch, each step allowing me to stew in my rising mortification. How the heck was I supposed to know about his daddy? I take deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves before I walk in my house. It doesn’t work, and Mama sees them plain as day on my face.
“What in the world happened to make you so flustered?” She places her novel down on the side table.
“I think I messed things up with the new boy. Everything was goin’ fine ‘til we started talkin’ about his dead daddy.” I chew on my bottom lip. “Then he got plain mean, and now I think he hates me when he was the one who brought him up in the first place!” My voice rises with indignation. I can’t stand when people think bad about me.
Mama walks over and smoothes my hair. “Oh baby, we have no clue what that boy must be goin’ through. The best thing you can do is be there for him and forgive his faults.”
“Fat chance of that. See if I’ll be his friend now,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest.
She kisses the top of my head. “Forgiveness is divine, Alina May.” She sits back down, picks up her book, and continues reading.
I’ve been staring in my room’s full-length mirror for the past ten minutes. I have on the new two-piece I bought last week, but I’m not sure I can pull it off. It looked great on the mannequin, so when Becca begged me to get it, I gave in to peer pressure. The problem is, no matter how I try to adjust the top, the dang thing is still like a bright red polka-dotted sign advertising my newly acquired cleavage. I swear, I went to bed one night and woke up the next morning with two giant melons on my chest.
I cup them in my hands and marvel at the weight. Who knew they would be so heavy?
“What are you doing?” The voice comes out of nowhere. I jump in
