Girls Don't Know Jack

He Goes to Another School

♫ Lovers Rock - TV Girl

Jack Moody's heavy footsteps patter behind me as I lead him into my room. Unsure what to do with myself, I walk across the floor to take a seat at my desk.

He shrugs his bag off and begins to tug off his shoes, leaving them in a pile on the hardwood floor, just as the last time he was in here.

It's funny how much has changed since then—the boy is no longer just a beautiful stranger to me. Now, we might even be friends.

Jack collapses onto my small bed, notebooks in hand, he spreads them out in front of him before pulling his phone from his jean pocket.

"I told my mom I was over here and she couldn't be more thrilled," he says staring down at the screen and then he tosses it to the side onto my lavender bedding. "It's kind of cool to have a friend my mom actually approves of."

I smile looking down at my hands. One: because he actually called me his friend, and two: because I have the stamp of approval from his mother.

"Well, I'm happy we got to meet, then," I tell him crossing my legs in the plastic chair beneath me.

Lying on his stomach, stretched across my bed he ruffles his hand through his hair. "You know, I was kind of embarrassed when you showed up at my house."

"What, why?" I ask. Friday night, Jack had seemed angry to me, but not so much embarrassed.

He raises his brows at me. "Seriously? Look at this place," he offers motioning around the room. "We don't exactly live at the same standards."

Little does he know, he could be living in a box under a bridge and I'd still worship the ground he walks on.

Trying to reassure him, I say in a calming voice. "Your house was fine. Homey. I liked it."

And I meant that—sure, it was a bit messy and run-down, but it was lived in. It wasn't pretentious or sterile like some people in Wilcrest live. Jack's home had memories and warmth.

But, my words don't seem to convince the boy, as he rolls his eyes at me. "Yeah, but like even your parents seem pretty cool and—"

"My parents are certifiably insane," I interrupt and he gives me a lopsided smile that makes me swoon. "And what are you talking about? Your mom is the best."

His smile fades and he fidgets with a pen in his hand. "Yeah, it's just different..."

Dropping the pen, he pops his head back up at me. "Are you going to sit over there the whole time?"

Confused, I stare back at him blankly.

"I thought we were studying," he continues. "So, come over here."

Jack pats my heavy comforter, motioning for me to join him on the bed. My heart drums against my chest and it feels like my legs are filled with cement.

He wants me next to him...on my bed.

My shaky hands scramble to gather my notes as I stand from my seat and somehow make it over towards him before perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed.

Suddenly, I'm way too aware this is my first time on a mattress with someone of the opposite sex.

I can't bring myself to face him, so I stare down at the notebook in my hands, my back towards the sprawling boy. The sound of rustling paper behind me is the only noise filling the otherwise silent room.

And while I try to focus on the words I had scribbled, my mind wanders back to Jack. Trying to push down the fact I'm alone on a bed with the most attractive boy I've ever seen, the only other thought I have is the persistent curiosity about his home life.