Except when I roll over and grab my phone, I realize two things. One, it’s after ten in the morning, which means I slept right through first period. And two, the text isn’t from Heather.

And it’s not from Macy, either. Instead, it’s from a number I don’t recognize.

Unknown: How is your ankle?

Flint? I wonder as I brush my hair out of my eyes and sit up. Or someone else?

For a moment, Jaxon’s eyes—deep, dark, fathomless—come to mind, but I can’t believe it’s him. Not when he’s been so hot and cold the entire time we’ve known each other. And definitely not when he told me last night that we were going to do things the hard way—whatever that means.

Deciding to play it safe, I text back:

Me: Who is this?

There’s a long pause. Then:

Unknown: Jaxon

It’s only one word, and yet it somehow all but crackles with indignation. Like he can’t imagine that I don’t already have his number in my phone, just waiting for him to finally get around to texting me. I should be annoyed at the assumption, but I’m amused instead. So amused that I can’t help answering:

Me: Jaxon who?

Jaxon: I don’t know the punch line

Me: To what?

Jaxon: Whatever knock-knock joke you’re setting up

I burst out laughing, because he’s funny over text in a way he hasn’t shown me in person.

Me: I’m terrible at knock-knock jokes

Jaxon: Finally some good news

Me: Hey!

Me: How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?

There’s a long pause, where I can totally imagine his face. Then:

Jaxon: I didn’t realize octopi laughed

Yeah, that’s pretty much the response I expected.

Me: eye roll emoji

Me: Come on. Play along.

Jaxon: I just wanted to know how your ankle was

Me: Take a guess and I’ll tell you

Another long pause.

Jaxon: 17

Me: 17?!?!?!?!?!

Jaxon: Well, it’s obviously not 8 or it wouldn’t be a joke

Jaxon: And I don’t have a clue otherwise, so why not 17?

Me: double eye roll emoji

Me: Let’s try this again

Me: How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?

This pause is so long that I’ve just about convinced myself that I’ve blown it and he isn’t going to answer. But then:

Jaxon: How many?

I nearly drop my phone in excitement, and I’m grinning so hard that my cheeks hurt. Which is ridiculous, but I’m learning that when it comes to this boy, I’m ridiculous.

Me: Ten-tickles

Jaxon: That’s…actually pretty good

Me: Wow. High praise

Jaxon: Don’t let it go to your head

Me: Believe me, I won’t

Me: Triple eye roll emoji

Jaxon: What do you get when you cross a vampire and a snowman?

What? A joke? From the perennially serious Jaxon Vega? I can’t answer back fast enough.

Me: I have no idea.

Jaxon: Frostbite

I laugh out loud, because who is this Jaxon? And how do I keep him around?

Me: Halloween and Alaska all rolled into one, huh?

Me: Color me impressed

There’s another long pause, but this time something tells me not to give up on Jaxon quite yet. That he isn’t not texting because he’s put down his phone but because he’s trying to figure out what to say next. Which…can you say mind-boggling? I can barely imagine a Jaxon who doesn’t know exactly what to do and say in any situation.

Finally my phone dings again.

Jaxon: You promised to tell me about your ankle

It’s not a great segue from the fun conversation we were just having, but I go with it, because the alternative is not answering, and I don’t want to do that. At least not yet.

Me: I don’t know. I’m just waking up. My uncle must have decided I don’t have to go to class again today.

Jaxon: I’d say lucky you, but…

Me: What, falling out of a tree not lucky enough for you?

Jaxon: Do you KNOW what lucky means?

The laugh hits me so unexpectedly that I nearly snort. Then slap a hand over my mouth in horrified amusement, even though there’s no one around to hear.

Me: I walked away, didn’t I?

Jaxon: eye roll emoji

Jaxon: Pretty sure I carried you away

Me: Oh. Right. Thanks again for that.

Jaxon: All the eye roll emojis

Now that he’s got me thinking about it, I’m curious how my ankle is, too. So I throw back the covers and try to climb out of bed—only to whimper the second I put any weight on my right foot. Well, that answers that. With the added problem that I really have to pee.

Jaxon: What are you going to do today?

Me: I think I’ll lie in bed and feel sorry for myself

Jaxon: Good times

Me: Yeah, well, turns out the ankle hurts a little bit

Jaxon: You ok?

Me: Of course

Me: brb

I use the promise of Advil to propel myself across the room to the bathroom. When I’m done, I wash my hands and grab two of the little round pills and a bottle of water before hobbling back to my bed. I force myself to take the pills before I pick my phone back up again, but it’s hard. I’m dying to know if Jaxon texted me back.

He didn’t. Which is cool, I tell myself. I mean. I’m the one who cut our conversation off so abruptly.

Me: I’m back

No answer.

Me: Sorry that took so long.

Still no answer.

Ugh. I blew it.

I’m pissed at myself for stopping our conversation. And just as angry for being pissed off. Jaxon showed me more of himself in the last fifteen minutes than he has since I got here. What do I have to be annoyed about that he stopped texting?

Absolutely nothing. I mean, the boy does have to go to class, after all.

Somehow, telling myself that only makes everything worse. Well, that and the fact that I’m starving, and the peanut butter is all the way across the room. Of course.

I lie back against my pillows and fire off a couple of messages to Heather. Then I check Snapchat and Instagram and even play a couple of rounds of Pac-Man—all while telling myself that I’m absolutely, positively not waiting for Jaxon to text again.