Jackson just pursed his lips. He knew I was bullshitting. “You’re still a terrible liar.” He was smiling.
“You don’t know me anymore, Jackson,” I shot back.
He ignored the dig. His eyes roamed my face, like he was trying to find any differences from the last time he saw me.
“How long are you in town for?”
I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe the entire summer. I don’t know how shitty the house is going to be. It’s Peter, so the place is probably a dump.”
“Do you need help?”
I tried not to scoff. Help from who? Jackson? Yeah, right.
“I’m good, Jackson. I’m sure you’re busy with wedding planning.”
He looked apologetic, and it absolutely wrecked me. Neither of us said anything else; we just stared at each other, and I focused on that scar across his eyebrow. I didn’t know this man. I had no idea what type of person he was now. And I shouldn’twantto know. He had been here this whole time, exactly where I left him. Without a word Igot into my car, and Jackson stepped back so I could pull away from the curb. I watched in my rearview mirror as he stayed in the street, watching me as I drove away.
Chapter 4
BEFORE
September, Fourteen Years Ago
Iwas a nervous wreck the first day of high school. I’d walked the path from the front door to my locker three times during freshman orientation, and probably practiced my locker combination close to fifty times so I would have it memorized, but I was still anxious. There wasn’t a single person I knew besides Jackson Delvecchio, and we had only worked together four times. Plus, we didn’t have any classes together, so I doubted I would even run into him.
After English, math, and chemistry, I had lunch. My stomach was a fluster of nerves over not knowing anyone, and I tried to get a view of the cafeteria as I went through the lunch line.
I looked at the person behind me to see if they noticed the lunch lady giving me my lunch for free after I read her my student ID number. They were on their phone scrolling through Twitter, totally oblivious. I had to stop being so paranoid.
My knees were practically knocking together as I looked around the lunch room, trying to find an empty seat. Out the corner of my eye,I noticed someone waving their hand above their head, and I looked to see who it was attached to. Jackson Delvecchio was motioning for me to sit next to him, and I cocked an eyebrow in surprise. I even turned around to make sure no one was behind me. When I turned back toward him, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Yes, Addison Bianchi, I’m waving at you!”
I was sure my entire face flushed red. A few students turned to look in my direction, and I put my head down as I rushed over to Jackson’s table. He had headphones in, and when I approached, he pulled both buds out of his ears and shoved them into his back pocket. Something about it made my stomach flutter, that he stopped listening to music in order to give me his full attention.
“What’s up, Jackson?” I asked shyly. We had only been working together for two weeks; I wouldn’t even say we were friends, and I was surprised he was acknowledging me.
His eyes bounced from me to the open seat next to him. His eyes crinkled, and he let out a low chuckle. “Addie, you can sit.”
The heat returned to my cheeks as I set down my tray and crawled my legs over the bench. Jackson picked up the bag of apple slices from my tray, opening it and taking a slice as if we’d had lunch together a million times before.
“How’s your day going?” I asked as I grabbed an apple slice for myself.
“It’s good. This school is like, just a bunch of different squares. I accidentally walked in the same circle three times until I realized the numbers on the doors were the same every time. I was late to second hour,” he said.
I giggled, and we fell into an easy conversation about our classes. A few other kids joined our table and Jackson introduced me to each one, even though I knew I wouldn’t remember theirnames. All of them were wearing football jerseys, and I looked at Jackson, wondering if he was a jock, too.
“Do you play on the football team, too?” I asked Jackson.
Everyone at the table laughed, even Jackson.
“Nah, football was more my brother Sam’s thing.”
I nodded my head.
“Are you guys coming to the game after school?” one of the guys asked.
Jackson looked at me, acting the same way he had when he took one of my apple slices. “Do you want to go to the game?” he asked, as if we’d hung out plenty of times before.
“I guess so.”