“It’s cool,” I say as we make our way along one of the tables until we find a cluster of empty seats. “It’s a lot, but Halloween has always been my dad’s favorite holiday.”
“Really? That’s so weird, considering my dad hated it. I thought it must have been something that happened when he was a kid, but apparently not, if your dad goes all out for the holiday.” I asked Dad once, a few years ago, why he disliked Halloween so much, and he said he would tell me when I was older.
Turns out the universe had other plans.
“Yeah, that is weird.” Macy glances around. “But isn’t this place cool? I’ve been dying for you to see it.”
“Totally cool. I want to spend hours just looking at the murals.”
“Well, you’ve got all year, so…” She gestures for me to sit. “What do you want to eat? Besides cherry Pop-Tarts, I mean.”
“I can come with you.”
“Next time. Right now you should get off your hurt ankle for a few minutes. Besides, I’m pretty sure today is going to be a little overwhelming. Let me help out where I can.”
“It’s pretty hard to say no to that,” I tell her, because she’s right. I’m already overwhelmed, and the day has barely started. I’m also touched by how hard Macy is working to make things easier for me. I smile my thanks at her.
“So don’t say no.” She pushes me playfully toward a chair. “Just tell me what you want to eat, or I’ll bring you seal steak and eggs.”
The horror must show on my face, because she bursts out laughing. “How about a pack of cherry Pop-Tarts and some yogurt with canned berries?”
“Canned berries?” I ask, doubtful.
“Yeah, Fiona, our chef, cans them herself when they’re in season. Fresh fruit is pretty hard to come by up here once late fall hits. The display at the party the other day was a special treat.”
“Oh, right.” I feel silly. Of course there aren’t any fresh berries in Alaska in November. If a pint of Ben and Jerry’s costs ten bucks, I can’t imagine what a pint of strawberries would be. “That sounds great. Thanks.”
“No problem.” She grins at me. “Sit down and take a load off. I’ll be right back.”
I do as she directs and pick a chair that faces the wall—partly because I really do want to study the closest mural and partly because I’m sick of pretending I don’t see people staring at me. At least with my back turned to most of the room, I won’t be able to see them and they won’t be able to see my face.
The negative is that I also won’t be able to watch for Jaxon, and I was really hoping to see him this morning. Which sounds desperate, I know, but I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened between us yesterday. I kind of hoped he’d text me this morning, but he hasn’t so far.
I want to know what he meant by that journal page, want to know if it means he feels all the wild things I do. It’s impossible to imagine that he does—I knew he was out of my league the first day I met him. But that doesn’t keep me from wanting him, any more than Macy’s warnings do. Or the air of darkness that he wears like a badge of honor…or a set of shackles. I haven’t quite figured out which.
There’s a part of me that wants to sneak a look behind me, just to see if I can catch a glimpse of him. But it seems way too obvious, at least with half the cafeteria watching me. And they are watching—I can feel their eyes even with my back turned. I know Macy says it’s no big deal, that it’s just new-girl stuff, but it feels like more than that.
I don’t have time to dwell on it, though, because Macy’s got a fully loaded tray in her hands and is heading straight for me.
“That looks like more than Pop-Tarts and yogurt,” I tease as I help her set it down so she won’t spill anything.
“I did fine on the food, but when I got to drinks, I didn’t know if you wanted coffee or tea or juice or water or milk, so I brought one of each.”
“Oh, wow. Um, the juice is great.”
“Thank God.” She holds out a glass of red liquid. “I was afraid you were going to say you wanted the coffee, and then I was going to die. Especially since Cam drinks tea, so I can’t steal his when he gets here.”
She flops dramatically into the chair across from me.
“I promise, the coffee’s all yours,” I tell her with a laugh. “And you picked the right juice—cranberry is my favorite.”
“Good.” She takes a long sip of the hot drink just to prove a point. “I thought all you California girls were Starbucks addicts.”
“I guess Cam and I have something in common. It was always more about tea at my house. My mom was an amazing herbalist. She made her own tea blends, and they were fantastic.” It’s been a month, but I can still almost taste her lemon-thyme-verbena tea. I have a few bags of it in my carry-on, but I don’t want to drink it. And truth be told, I’m afraid to even smell it in case I start crying and never stop.
“I can only imagine.”
There’s something in the way Macy says it that gets my attention, that has me trying to figure out what she means. I wait for her to say more, but then her eyes go wide, and she starts choking on a sip of coffee.
Before I can turn around to see what’s got her so discombobulated, someone asks, “Is this seat taken?”
And then I don’t have to turn around at all. Because I’d know that voice anywhere.
Jaxon Vega just asked to sit next to me. In front of everyone.
It really is a brave new world.
27
Ten-Degree
Weather Gives a
Whole New Meaning to the
Cool Kids’ Table
“Um, yeah. Sure. Of course.” As I turn to look at him, the words pour out of my mouth without any rhyme or reason, making me sound—and feel—like a jerk.
Jaxon inclines his head, lifts a brow. “So it is taken, then?”
Forget sounding like a jerk. I am a jerk. “No! I mean, yes. I mean…” I stop, take a deep breath, and then blow it out slowly. “The seat isn’t taken. You can sit down if you’d like.”
“I would like.” He grabs the chair and turns it around so that when he drops down into it, he’s facing the back of the chair, one elbow draped negligently over the top.
It’s a completely ridiculous way to sit, especially on a chair this elegant…but it’s also superhot. And it’s pretty much been my kryptonite since Moises de la Cruz did it at a pool party when we were in seventh grade.