Under the Same Stars(59)
It wasn’t until a jump scare happened onscreen (I guess Christopher Nolan dabbled in horror now) that Jacob jolted and clamped his hand down on mine. Heart rate spiking, I chanced flipping my dead lobster hand over so our palms pressed together. Jacob wasted no time in lacing our fingers. “Your hand is ice-cold,” he whispered.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Jacob squeezed my hand. “I’ll warm it up.”
***
Per most Christopher Nolan films, the movie lasted around three hours. Jacob and I left our theater holding hands, but I stopped short when I saw Marco and Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV sitting on a bench nearby.
They hadn’t been waiting for us, had they?
“How was it?” Marco asked once he and Jacob had nodded at each other. I swore I caught a muscle in Marco’s jaw twitch.
“Mind expanding,” I answered smoothly, because it sounded better than: I already don’t remember how it ended.
“Nice,” Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV said. “We’re waiting for the midnight showing.”
“I bet you are,” Jacob muttered.
“Well, have fun!” I said brightly. “My parents love a good curfew, so we’ve gotta go…”
I suggested we play some music on the ride home, but Jacob asked what Marco was up to these days. “He looks like a jock pretending to be an intellectual.” He shook his head. “I mean, why did he get those glasses?”
“Because he’s nearsighted,” I said.
Seriously, I’d die on a hill for those tortoiseshell specs.
“And he is an intellectual,” I added, feeling a little defensive. “Even on the soccer field, he’s always been smart.”
“He’s also always liked you,” Jacob said matter-of-factly.
Something surged up my spine. “What?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled and made a left-hand turn. “You never saw that?”
“Um, no,” I sputtered. “The only thing to see was the harem of girls surrounding him in the cafeteria.” I rolled my eyes. “And don’t even get me started on this one girl at Princeton…”
Jacob, bless him, listened to me wage war on Shelly Freeman all the way home. It wasn’t until we reached my neighborhood that I stopped to breathe, and that was only because he shifted his truck into park by our mailbox.
“Keep going, Blue,” I joked, gesturing up my long driveway. “We still have some ground to cover.”
“So you aren’t interested in Marco?” Jacob asked.
I laughed. He should’ve been asking about Connor, not Marco! “God, no,” I said. “Marco ?lvarez is just a friend.”
No, he’s one of your best friends, I realized, and felt a swift swirl of sweetness in my core. If something happened, Marco was one of the people I wanted to tell most. Just like Austin and Connor.
“Well, good.” Jacob unbuckled his seat belt. “Because I had a really great time tonight, Mads.”
“Me too…” I murmured, all musings on Marco evaporating into oblivion. Jacob was leaning across the truck’s center console, my heart hammering relentlessly.
This is it, I thought. Finally, my first kiss.
Jacob’s lips were warm when they brushed mine, but before I could make a valiant attempt at kissing him back, his slick tongue slipped into my mouth so he could snake it all the way down my throat.
I hoped it would get better, but once his drool started spilling down my chin, all I could think was: Ew.
Ew, ew, ew.
And, for good measure, EW!!!
So much for a sparkling first kiss.
Seventeen
With Da and Dad in Newport visiting Great-Aunt Penny, it was Austin and Connor who helped me pack the car for the Finger Lakes. Yesterday my brother had dropped Katie off at Hotel Gallant before coming home to find Connor and me marathoning the latest season of Emily in Paris. Connor had ended up crashing with the dogs on the couch. “Hold on there, sis,” Austin said now, as I heaved my full-on I’m-ready-for-Europe-sized suitcase into the trunk (Amanda’s packing list was no joke). “We need to put the cooler in first; then we’ll play Tetris around it.”
“Smart call,” Connor said. “I think we should add one more layer of ice, though.” He looked at me, hair still sleep-rumpled. “Just to top things off?”
“No, let’s wait a little longer.” I shook my head, then glanced down the driveway. You could see the heat burning off the pavement, but other than that, nothing. “Marco said he’d be here.”
Today was Friday, and I was in charge of breakfast tomorrow—a.k.a., day one of Katie’s bachelorette weekend! Originally, I’d planned to wake up super early and make a quick run to the grocery store, but then I’d mapped our rental house and found out that the closest supermarket was an unfamiliar half-hour away. I didn’t want to get up at the crack of dawn, so Austin had dreamt up a solution: Connor and I would go into town to get everything I needed for Saturday’s breakfast spread. Then I would pack it all into the YETI for the trip.
The final piece of my breakfast would be a couple of quiches Marco had volunteered his mom to bake. The bridesmaids had loved them so much at the bridal shower that I thought they’d be a nice touch. He’d promised to deliver them this morning, but there was no sign of the Bumper Car.