Opposite of Always(40)
“What about it?” Franny asks. He activates his super power-up just in time to light up the opposing squad’s best player.
I shrug. “I just think you should be prepared . . . like, you know his track record isn’t exactly impeccable. I just want you to be okay if . . . you know . . . he’s not . . . if he doesn’t . . .”
“Do we need to talk about this now? Like, we’re in the middle of some serious kick-ass here.”
“Guess I’ve just been thinking.”
“Well, you can stop wasting your time thinking about that stuff, okay?”
“Yeah, okay, Fran. Sorry.”
And I wonder if I’ve messed things up. If I’ve said too much. I sneak a look at Franny. Only I can’t read him. His eyes laser-focused on the screen, lips pinched tight, forehead creased in concentration. And we sit there, still and quiet except for the snap of our fingers, the wails of our enemies falling all around us.
Drifting, Drifting
I convince myself that the best way not to lose Kate is to not let her out of my sight.
Or at least stay as close to her as I can.
And so:
We pull epic near-all-nighters together, which basically consist of her studying and me pretending to study but mainly just watching her study, and then acting super studious whenever she looks over at me, shaking her head disapprovingly at my upside-down textbooks.
We eat lots of bad-for-you food together. There’s this taco truck that stays open late that becomes our go-to. Best guac EVER!
We spend hours in the gorges, talking about anything and everything. One afternoon she tries her best to convince me that the new Star Wars trilogy is better than the original. I ask her if she’s even seen Empire Strikes Back.
She tries to catch me up on all the cool indie movies that have somehow escaped my viewership. Which turns out to be almost ALL THE COOL INDIE MOVIES. Shout-out to Raising Victor Vargas and Short Term 12!
We have random we-both-stink-at-dancing dance parties in the middle of her dorm room, much to her roommate’s dismay.
And we kiss during our study breaks. And we kiss doing our taco truck visits. And we kiss in the gorges, and during our movie marathons.
“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of kissing?” Kate asks me.
“Kissing you? Never,” I assure her.
“You’re sure?”
“Hmm,” I say. “Maybe we should conduct an experiment?”
Kate’s eyebrows rise. “You think?”
I scoot closer to her. We’re in the middle of the library stacks. Alone except for a girl a few tables away.
“It feels like the only way to really know,” I say.
She smiles, places her hand on the back of my head in this way that makes me feel melty, and kisses my nose, and then my cheek, and then my lips.
She pulls away, looks at me. “In the name of science, right?”
I slide closer still. “I love science,” I say in between kisses.
I lose myself in Kate’s eyes, in her lips, in the irregular rhythm of her breaths.
And it’s simple math, really: the more time I spend with her, the more time I want with her.
I might be a Kate addict.
And there doesn’t seem to be a cure for my addiction, and even if there were an antidote, I don’t think I’d want it.
I know I wouldn’t want it.
I’d refuse treatment, check myself out of the hospital against medical advice, wouldn’t even bother changing out of my gown, or those one-size-fits-all hospital skid-proof socks.
Jack, you need to stay here. It’s for your own good, they’d plead.
But I’d wave them all off.
Because I’m happy, addiction be damned.
The Flip Side to Happy
But there’s a flip side to Jack Can’t Get Enough of Kate.
I turn on the kitchen light and nearly have a heart attack.
“Dad, what are you doing lurking in the kitchen?”
“I’m not lurking. You can’t lurk in your own house. I couldn’t sleep. And I’m waiting for you, I suppose.”
“Everything okay?” I walk over to the cabinet, pull out a glass, take the grape juice from the fridge.
“Funny. I was going to ask you the same.”
The grape juice tastes sweeter than usual. “I’m good. Why?”
“Well, I just wondered what happened to you tonight.”
“I went out.”
“So you forgot about helping me clean out the shed so we can get the new lawn mower inside?”
“I’m sorry, Dad. It slipped my mind.”
“Your mom was counting on getting it done today. Because if we can’t get the lawn mower inside the shed, we won’t be able to get the party chairs and tables she ordered into the garage.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“I heard you.”
“Look, I’ll move some things around and we’ll do it tomorrow after school.”
“It’s already done, Jack.”
My eyebrows rise. “Already done? There’s no way you moved everything by yourself.”
“You’re right. That’s why your mom pitched in. And Franny came over and helped. Jillian, too. I couldn’t have done it without them.”