the first one • j. hughes

17

Quinn sits down next to me. I already know what's coming so I pretend to be super interested in Trevor and Jack's game of tennis even though there's a whole other court between the bench and them. It'd taken almost an hour for me to convince only the three of them to come play tennis after they had already spent the morning training. Luke said he was too tired.

"So..." Quinn says.

I take some big gulps of water. He's trying to ambush me about that day at the car show. Jack kept the couple joke up for about the whole day. I would be lying my ass off if I said I was unbothered by it. I would be lying my ass off if I said I was bothered by it in an annoyed way.

"Dee," he says. "We got to do this eventually. It's either me or Penn."

I run out of water. "Luke and I already talked about it."

We haven't. It's been four days. Every time Luke tries to bring it up, I find a way to dance around it. In the same way you dance around a bullet. I get lucky.

"Yeah? You already talked about being nervous for your speech at the wedding?"

I inhale. Then I can't breathe because of the spit that flies into my throat. I hack and I cough and chug the rest of Quinn's water until sweet relief comes. Except it doesn't. Because I'm still cornered here.

Quinny laughs, leaning back 'cause he's so comfortable. "What was so surprising?"

"Bad timing," I croak out.

"Sure."

The waiting returns. This time I actually do get to watching Jack and Zegs play. They're much more even in skill and competitiveness that their games always last longer. I could probably beat Quinn in the same amount of time as usual with my eyes closed. Perks of playing tennis since I was seven.

My eyes give in to that little habit of sticking to Jack. His shirt is long discarded because of the heat. Not that I'm complaining. I'm used to it, I think. I should be. I've only been seeing it since before I can even remember. There's some new aspects to it though so, y'know, it's a lot better of a view.

He smiles as Trevor fails to return the ball to his side of the court. If anyone's wondering, my heart is still in my chest. It's trying hard to escape right now but it's still there. Jack makes its efforts to beat out of my chest increase exponentially as he points to me. I think he mouths, "For you." I think. I don't know. I look away so quickly it's hard to tell if I'm just going crazy or not.

"Zegras!" I shout. "No one wants to see that!"

He flips me off while tossing his shirt onto the bench next to their court.

"You're a bad faker," Quinn says.

"What? I like Trevor better when he's fully clothed," I say. "Dude needs to get a few more reps in here and there."

"Like Jack?"

Luckily, I was exhaling for that one. "I guess. Luke's solid too. You could—"

"Dude, your heart eyes give you away every time." Quinn laughs as my jaw drops in offense and shock. "I've known every single time you've had any feelings for Jack."

Honestly offended at how well he knows me and pays attention to me, I cross my arms. "I stopped telling you after you introduced me to Brady as your future sister-in-law."

"You're both dumbasses and everyone always knows whenever one of you likes the other that way."

That's interesting. If everyone always knows...

He reads my mind. "You have to figure it out on your own."

"I've never been able to do that," I whine.

"I'll give you advice but I won't hold your hand through it."

I hum as Jack and Trevor start arguing about whether or not the ball was in. (It was totally out but it'd benefit Z to speak up so I keep quiet.) "Like every other issue I have."

"You can fight your own battles," he says. Then seems to reconsider with a hum of his own. "When you need me to, I'll help. Only if it's a good plan."

"I've never had a bad plan."

"Backflip while tubing?"

"So I forgot some key parts of physics one time."

He laughs. "Whatever, Kenna."

* * * * *

Trevor and Quinn are passed the fuck out in the backseat. It took me one song to convince Jack to take the longest way back to the house. Partly because I used winner's privilege of our entire competition today and partly because I am known for my excellent backroads playlist. Eric Church singing about being seventeen and an old Jeep plays just quiet enough not to wake the two dozers up but loud enough to be properly enjoyed the way it should be.

I take a deep breath in and blurt my words out, "What was up with that thing on Saturday?"

"The car show?" Jack asks, smiling over at me quickly. "It happens every year."

"Rowden," I snap.

His easy smile remains. "Prez, I was messing around."

"Obviously."

"Who cares if a bunch of people who don't fully know us think we're dating? Not like I tried that joke with Eddie," he says. "Not that he'd believe it."

Something in my chest tugs, pulls, or stabs. I can't tell. It's not very comfortable though. I'll tell you that much. Rather than answering, I start scrolling through my playlist as if I haven't already queued up the best compilation of songs. It does nothing to stop that feeling in my chest.

Not that he'd believe it. Why the hell not? What's so unbelievable about the two of us dating? Did I fucking imagine a fourteen-year-old Jack telling me he liked me in the middle of an argument? Did I imagine when word finally got back to me about any of his other crushes on me? Who the fuck would think dating someone is unbelievable after having wanted to date them more than once?

Jack reaches over the console and softly punches the side of my thigh. Then awkwardly chuckles after I angle myself with my knees toward the door. "What's up?"

"Tired," I lie.

"You sure that's it? Feeling tired?"

I feel stupid. I feel ridiculous for thinking it was anything more than a joke. If I have any sort of feeling for Jack, he can't have them for me, and vice versa. The universe doesn't allow it.

My eyes stay glued to the window. "Yeah, just tired."

"Too tired to stop by a fruit stand?" His smile can be heard in his voice and it's infectious. A smile spreads on my face. Jack laughs. "That's what I thought."