Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
I don’t know what to do.
He’s so close I can smell him.
Grease. Sweat. Shampoo. A mixture of scents that has my teenage body going crazy. Not to mention the fact that I’m staring right into his eyes as his lips twist into the most adorable smile.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
All I can do is nod.
I feel as though I’ve been shot out of a cannon and am now floating high above everything I’ve ever known. It’s like I’m doing a backstroke in the clouds on a sunny summer day with buttery sunshine beating down on me as the warm breeze plays with my hair.
This is it. Right here. Right now.
A thought hits me like a thousand bricks being dropped on top of me at once. There, right in front of me. Jameson’s lips. Not even six inches away from mine.
Sure, guys are supposed to be the ones to make the first move, but so what? We live in modern, progressive times, right? I’m a young, strong, empowered girl, right? I can do what I want. And right now, I want to kiss Jameson Gray.
So I do.
Or at least, I try to.
But just as I move in for the kiss, Jameson backs away, causing a pit to form in my stomach.
“Whoa, whoa,” he says, springing to his feet. “Hang on a second.”
“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I say, instantly regretting it. “I didn’t mean to–”
For some reason, I put my hand over my lips as I quickly sit up. What have I just done? Did I just ruin everything?
“No, it’s okay,” he says as he takes my hand and helps me to my feet. I’m shaking. My blush is gone now, that’s for sure. I bet I’m as white as a ghost. But Jameson is still smiling so sweetly.
“Iris, you know I like you, right?” I can’t help but suddenly feel like I’m being spoken to by my dad or a teacher.
I hang my head in shame. “Do you?”
“Come on, don’t be like that.” He lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. “It’s just…I’m eighteen. You just turned fifteen. I wouldn’t feel right about that, you know?”
The blush instantly returns. The tips of my fingers start tingling as I look down at my feet. I never noticed just how dirty my laces were until now. I really should go out and buy a new pair. But with what money? I barely make enough working at the coffee shop to buy rice and nearly-expired chicken so I can make dinner for myself and Mom.
“I really messed this up, didn’t I?” I mutter.
“No. No, you didn’t,” Jameson replies quickly. “It’s fine, Iris. You and I are totally fine–”
“Okay, you two! Dinner’s ready!” Jameson’s mom calls from the front of the house. “Come get some primo Italiano!”
Oh no...
My stomach flips. There’s no way I’m going to be able to stay and get through dinner with him and his family now. Not after this massive screw-up I just committed.
“I–I’m gonna go,” I stammer.
“Iris, you really don’t have to. Come on, enjoy some meatballs with us—”
“No, I really have to. And I know I live next door, but please, don’t come looking for me, okay?” I turn for the door, but before I go, I stop. “And I’m sorry, Jameson.”
“It’s fine, Iris. You have nothing to be sorry about. Really.”
My heart is doing its best to pound a hole out of my chest as I quickly race out of Jameson’s house. I pretend like I’m on my phone so his parents don’t bother me, then run down his driveway, past my house, and up to the dirt road leading to the quarry.
I know Jameson. No matter what I said earlier, asking him to not come looking for me, he will. He’ll come by to tell me how what I did was no big deal and how I shouldn’t be embarrassed and how I should just come back over to his house because he saved me a plate of his mom’s meatballs, and then he’ll offer to give me a ride into town for dessert at either Frank’s Frozen Yogurt or Chuck’s Cheesecake.
And why? Because Jameson is a great guy.
At least that’s what I was hoping he would do. But that’s not what happened.
What really happened was that I sat at the quarry until it got too cold and I had to go home. I kept glancing at my phone like the pathetic, desperate-for-attention girl I was, to see if I had a text or a call from him, but there was nothing. And when I got back to my house, he wasn’t there waiting for me either.
When I let myself into my room and switched on the light, I thought he might see it and come over and knock to see how I was doing. But that didn’t happen either.