Her eyes return to mine, surprised and a little amused. “Maybe.”
I let my gaze wander over her body, taking in her tight jeans and that black crop top that ends just below her breasts. There’s so much skin on display.
Skin I’ve tasted.
My nipples harden inside my bra.
Clearing her throat, she pushes off the whiteboard and I chase after her, wondering what the hell I’m doing. I can’t stop myself from blocking her way out.
“What are you doing?” she asks, echoing my thoughts.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly.
When it comes to her, I seem to have lost my mind.
She tries to walk past me, but I block her again.
Stepping back, she watches me carefully. “Jessica?”
“I can’t stop thinking about the time we spent in that log cabin,” I blurt. “Don’t you want to go back?”
She looks down at the floor, at her scuffed Chucks, anywhere but at me. “I, uh, I need to go.”
I stiffen. What’s this about? She let me touch her in that cabin. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other for three days. “We haven’t talked about what happened. It’s been a month. Don’t you think we should talk?”
She looks up at me and grinds her molars. “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re with Jaxon. Like you should be.”
“Like I should be?”
“You said it yourself, your image is important to you. You’re a cheerleader and one of the most popular girls at this school. You date the unattainable Jaxon and have perfect grades. If you keep this up, you’ll be in the running for valedictorian.”
All of these truths she throws at me taste vile. It’s starting to quickly dawn on me that I no longer fucking care. I’m so fed up with the boxes people squeeze me into.
“Valedictorian?” I spit. “You think I care about that?”
“Yes,” she shouts, sounding as exasperated as I feel. “You do care! Look,” she throws her hands out helplessly, “what do you think will happen if what we did becomes common knowledge?”
“Why won’t you believe me when I tell you that I’m so fed up with pretending to be something I’m not?”
“Fine,” she bites out, placing her hands on her hips. “Then tell me, Jessica. What are you? A lesbian?”
“No.” My response is as automatic as her bitter laugh.
“I see.” She nods, then she motions to the door behind me and asks, “Can I leave?”
“No, you fucking can’t! Do I need to label myself further? Would that make you happy?” I step up close enough for our heaving chests to brush. “Will it make you happy if I tell you I’m a lesbian? Bisexual?”
Folding her arms over her chest, she stays silent, glaring at me with her far-too-expressive eyes. Right now, she thinks I’m naive.
“I don’t know what the hell I am, okay? But what we did… I can’t get it out of my head.”
Her eyebrows lift, the only response she’s willing to give me.
“Do I need to have it all figured out?”
“You kind of do,” she argues. “Your reputation is on the line here. Think about who this will affect besides us.” She ticks them off her fingers. “Jaxon. Your big following of friends. Not to mention your mom and my dad. What will they think when they find out their daughters fucked?”
My brows knit together, and I rear back. “Who cares about my image, me or you?”
