Straight To You

thirty-nine

The first game of the playoffs takes place Friday. I end up going even though I'm not too excited at the thought, because I know how important my dad's coaching job is to him and I want to support my father. As much as I don't want to see Lacey or Lucas or even Jack (although the latter is inevitable), I can't deny that there's a part of me that genuinely does want to go to the game, because football has always been a big part of my life. So I ask Lana if she wants to join me, to which she readily agrees. She is dating Kyler, after all, and he's on the team.

I successfully manage to avoid Jack for the most part, keeping close to Lana or talking briefly with my father. That is, until I'm walking back to the bleachers from the concession stand, water bottle in hand. Lana went to use the bathroom, so of course I end up being alone when the inevitable happens. Jack is on his way toward the field, exiting the boy's bathroom just as I pass the door he walks out of. Since neither of us were expecting another person to appear, we end up colliding with each other, taken off guard. For a moment I seem to be experiencing déjà vu, thinking back to my first day of school. I'd been walking down the hallway, not paying attention, and ended up running into Jack by accident. I find myself bitterly wishing that moment had never happened. Maybe then I never would have ended up with Jack at all.

The impact of Jack's body bumping into mine sends my water bottle flying from my hand, landing on the ground by Jack's feet. In a moment of shock, a startled cry leaves my lips, and I stagger on my feet, nearly toppling over. On instinct, Jack reaches out a hand to steady me. The second his touch comes into contact with my skin, electricity pulsates through my body, sparks passing between us like a firework show.

"Sorry," Jack murmurs, seemingly not yet having noticed it's me he ran into. "I didn't see—" Jack stops short when his eyes meet mine, jaw dropping. He's just as uncomfortable as I am, as this is the first time we're seeing each other face-to-face since I confronted him outside of the auditorium.

For a moment, Jack stands before me in silence, staring as if he's seen a ghost. I wish I was able to know what he was thinking at the same time I wish I didn't care enough to know what he thinks about me, torn somewhere between hating Jack and loving him more than ever. It's the first time I've ever wanted to numb myself to emotions.

Bending down, Jack grabs my water bottle. I have yet to say a ward, though an unintentional "Thank you" mindlessly escapes my lips when Jack returns the water bottle to me. Our fingers brush throughout the action, those shock-like sparks returning. I don't want to feel anything at Jack's touch. And I hate that I do feel something. I know Jack felt the sparks, too, because he jerks his hand away from mine quickly, as if he's been shocked.

"I should go," I say abruptly, no longer able to remain in Jack's presence, awkward silence stretching between us as we steal shy glances. So I force myself to turn my back on him after speaking, not waiting for a response. I have to admit, part of me wants Jack to grab my wrist and turn me around before I can go, for him to fight for what we once had. Because then I'd know that what we had wasn't all fake; that he cared about me, if just a little.