Because of my unease, I decided to camp out in bed all day, reading and listening to Death Cab for Cutie. When Mom got up, I went out to get a soda and find out her thoughts on Jack, but disappointingly, they just mirrored Milo’s sentiments.
It wasn’t that I wanted her to gush about Jack until I threw up, but their hesitance to say anything real about him disturbed me. I knew that they’d probably been embarrassed about the way they had acted but still.
Once Mom confirmed that it was acceptable for me to continue seeing Jack, I gave up on it. At least she liked him, and I could do what I wanted.
I went back into my room to figure out why it was so important to me that I kept seeing him. I hadn’t fallen under his spell the same way most people did, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t under one. As he had pointed out, I was attracted to him, otherwise I wouldn’t be there.
I sprawled out in bed and wondered if it was something like that bad Love Potion No. 9 movie with Sandra Bullock. They drank this potion, and suddenly, everybody wanted them. Maybe Jack had done that too. In some kind of weird government experiment.
But we lived in Minnesota. Why would the government experiment here? Were there even like CIA or FBI headquarters here?
That would be a really stupid test anyway. What would the practical applications of such a potion be? And does anyone really make potions anymore?
Milo sat on the computer the entire day and barely said a word to me. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me for ditching him last night, or just going through his own conflicted deal about his sexuality.
Either way, I didn’t push him on it, so I ate quickly, and then spent the rest of the night in my room. I went to bed that night, feeling a little surprised that Jack hadn’t talked to me at all.
Since it was my last day of Spring Break, I decided to make the most of it by sleeping the entire day away. I knew that it would only make it harder when I tried to go to bed at a decent time or get up for school the next morning, but I didn’t care.
When I finally rolled out of bed, I showered and got ready for the day. I still felt like avoiding Milo, so I text messaged Jack.
What are you up to today? I sat on my bedroom floor, painting my toenails dark blue.
Just woke up. He texted me back promptly.
Sorry. Did I wake you? It was after six o’clock, but from what little time I’d spent with Jack, I had a feeling he never went to bed before dawn.
Kinda. But it’s ok. I needed to get up anyway.
So, did you want to do something today? Fanning my freshly painted nails so they’d dry, I stared at my phone expectantly.
Probably sooner rather than later. I have school tomorrow.
Ridiculous! :( Ok. Let me shower and I’ll pick you up in an hour. Cool? Jack responded, making me laugh. The fact that I was going to school would impede his life in some way, and it made me feel a little special.
Cool. See you soon.
Once my toenails dried, I finished getting ready. I slipped on a pair of skimmer shoes, which completely covered up the polishing I had just done, but it was still too cold for anything open-toed.
Milo was staked out on the computer when I went out into the living room. I’d just put on a tee shirt and jeans, so I slipped on my white zippered Famous Stars and Straps hoodie over it. Even with that, I’d still probably freeze my butt off outside, but I thought my jackets were gross, so this was the better option.
“Going out?” Milo didn’t look away from the computer screen, and his voice was too flat for me to decipher.
“Yep.” I nodded. I really didn’t appreciate the lack of communication between us, but I didn’t know how to fix it. “With Jack. I won’t be out too late. Cause of school in the morning.”
“Whatever,” Milo said noncommittally. There was no lecture or disapproval, and I sighed.
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you later.” I started walking towards the door, but he didn’t say anything, so I waited to leave until he responded. He grunted something that sounded vaguely like “bye,” but I figured that was the best I would get, and I headed outside.
Jack had driven the Jetta again, and I wondered how he decided which car to take. He was singing along very merrily with Kanye West to “Stronger,” and he barely seemed to notice me when I hopped into the car. We sat outside the apartment building until the song finished, and then he turned down the radio and grinned at me.
“So, I was thinking we would take a walk tonight,” Jack said brightly.
“Okay. Where?” The night was a bit chilly, but it wouldn’t be unbearable. He wore a hoodie and pants today, forgoing his normal tee shirt and shorts combo that seemed highly inappropriate for March.
“Loring Park.” He had started pulling away as soon as he said it.
The park was only about half a mile from where I lived, but because it was on the other side of the highway, it made it almost a necessity to drive to it. I-94 had split it in half, but it used to be connected to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, where they had that giant spoon with the cherry (Spoonbridge and Cherry) along with lots of other fancy little sculptures.
We ended up going to the actual Loring Park, without all the sculptures but with lots of paths and trees.
After he parked, I got out of the car and admired the stars shining brightly above us. They were usually hard to see, thanks to the city lights, but the cold, spring air made them stand out sharply.
I looked around for Orion, the only constellation I really know, but Jack started walking down a trail, so I followed him, vowing to search the skies later on.
“So you really have school tomorrow?” Jack asked grumpily once I caught up with him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at his Converse as he walked, while I tended to admire the scenery and the stars.
“Yeah,” I grimaced.
I had a whole paper due on the War of 1812, and I hadn’t done anything. In fact, the only thing I knew about the war was that it had happened in 1812. If Milo and I had been on better speaking terms, I’d probably go home and bug him about it until he just gave in and did it for me.
“So what time do you have to be home?” He kicked a stone with his foot, reminding me very much of a little boy who had just been told he’d have to go to bed early because he’d been bad.
“I don’t know. Before midnight, I guess.” That really wasn’t that much earlier than when I normally went home, but Jack sighed and grumbled something unintelligible. “What?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled, still looking at the ground.