And I hate that I’m thinking about Jake in this moment. I wonder how long it will take before the ghost of what we were leaves me in peace.
Maybe because I’m afraid the answer will be too long, I take Seth’s hand and turn him to me. My eyes find his and the next breath brings us toward each other, and even as it’s happening, a thought comes, unbidden, to my mind.
You kissed Jake in this laundry room once.
And then: Seth’s taller than Jake. That’s a good thing.
Before he can kiss me, I slide the jerseys to the edge of the dryer and hop up so I’m sitting on top of it. I draw Seth to me, hoping to separate this moment from that one. But it only makes the two of us closer to the same height, only makes me remember Jake’s taste.
Stop, I beg the ghost. Please.
And somehow Seth senses it. He leans away, searching my eyes to figure out what’s wrong.
“I didn’t see this coming,” I tell him, because I want to tell him the truth, even if I tell it slant.
He sits on the washer, and the metal pops under his weight. “Because you thought you’d be with Jake forever?”
Apparently I’m not the only one the ghost is haunting. “Through high school, maybe,” I admit.
“I thought so too,” he says. “Is it going to ruin the moment if I tell you I didn’t see this coming, either? Because to be totally honest, I’ve been intimidated by you ever since honors math sophomore year.”
“Wait, what?” I’m genuinely surprised. “You’re the one who kept beating me on all those challenge problems!”
He shrugs, flashing the quickest hint of a smile. “You’re the one who got the high score on all the tests.”
“Think how unstoppable we’d be if we joined forces. We could take over the world! Or at least ace the AP calculus test.” I swing my foot, tapping it against his leg. “We do make a pretty good team.”
Seth hops down and pretends to think it over as he picks up the stack of jerseys. “Laundry and math and babysitting other people’s children,” he says. “So that’s the way to impress a girl?”
I laugh, then look him up and down, taking in his shoulders and chest and arms, his messy hair and kind eyes. “Well, none of this is hurting your cause.” I scoot to the front of the dryer, then wrap my bare feet around his legs to pull him to me. The jerseys are still warm when he sets the stack down beside me.
Seth gives a crooked smile, tilting the faint constellation of freckles across his nose, and I wrap my arms around his neck. When I kiss him, it’s fresh and new and freeing.
Beside me, his phone rattles and vibrates on top of the dryer. I’m still leaning my head toward him as he pulls away.
He checks the screen and sighs. “I’d better go. My dad might lose it if I don’t take these jerseys back and watch game film with him.”
“Your dad expects a lot of you,” I say, realizing we have this in common. I wonder if I should warn him now that he’ll never be good enough for my dad, either.
“I guess. Walk me out?”
In the driveway, he leans against his car door and pulls me close again. “Can I take you on a real date sometime?”
I frown, pretending to consider, pretending that everything in me isn’t already screaming yes.
“Will there be laundry?” I ask.
“No,” he says.
“Will anybody puke or lose a tooth?”
“No. Not on the first date, anyway.”
I reach up and tangle my fingers in his hair, and he gives a little shiver. “Will there be kissing?” I ask.
He nods.
“Okay, then,” I say, leaving one kiss on his cheek like a promise.
—
On Monday, between school and basketball practice, Seth and I go to Ms. Li’s room to borrow an AP calc practice book. He opens the door for me, resting his hand on the small of my back.
“Why, thank you,” I say, reaching behind me to lace my fingers through his as I pull him into the classroom.
Ms. Li sits facing away from us. She’s going over a test with a student, and Seth and I both freeze when we realize who it is.
Jake slumps over the desk, looking totally defeated. Then suddenly he turns, enough that I know he sees how close Seth and I are standing to each other, our hands held together at my waist.
Ms. Li is the only one oblivious to it all. She flips the test back to the front page, giving us a clear view of the big red “14%” on the cover. “One way or another, Jake,” she says, “we’re going to get you to graduation.”
Seth clears his throat, and she startles. “I’m so sorry,” he says—to her, to Jake, maybe even a little to me. “We wondered if we could borrow an AP practice book.”
“Of course, of course,” she says, tucking Jake’s test away as if we haven’t all been staring at the score. She looks at us, her eyes lingering on our hands. Even though they’ve got their own lives outside of school, I wonder if teachers talk about this kind of stuff, and what they’ll think of me if they do.
It’s been a month, I want to tell her. And he broke up with me. And neither Seth nor I expected this.
I stare at Jake, wondering how long he’s been struggling with math and why he never asked for help. And then I remember: because he’s Jake, and he’s not allowed to ask for help. He can’t let himself be anything short of perfect, all on his own.
As Jake stands up to go, Seth steps a little closer behind me, and I give his hand a squeeze. Something in me prepares for a fight, but Jake just gives us
