But the way she pressed herself against me; the way she clung to me… She was definitely into it.
This is ridiculous. I’m obsessing over it like a detective following a serial killer. I might as well have a corkboard covered in evidence and strings with the way I’ve been analyzing this. A simple conversation will clear it up, and since I don’t have any more classes today I have no problem waiting for her.
While I wait, I consider texting my parents to let them know about the scholarship. I even take out my phone and compose the text, but end up deleting it. Better to share it in person, where I can see their faces. Better even, I’ll just share when I’ve won.
I don’t have to wait long for Jessie, because just as I’m tucking my phone back into my jacket pocket she emerges from Ava’s office. She swipes her hand under her eyes and sniffs. My chest feels tight seeing her red-rimmed eyes, but I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything. We’re not close like that.
Or are you automatically close like that with someone after you’ve had your tongue in their mouth?
Jessie freezes when she sees me, narrowing her eyes. Is she finally realizing we have to talk about last Thursday? That we can’t dance around it? That we could do it again if—
What the hell, Mac? Chill.
“May the best scholar win,” I say with a smirk.
“Why are you even going for this scholarship? It’s not like you need it,” she practically mumbles, brushing past me.
Her question feels rhetorical, so I don’t answer. Her tone is tight like it normally is with me. This is the Jessie I know, sort of fiery and maybe even annoyed by my competition. But if she doesn’t like it, why does she always ask about my GPA and how I do on exams?
“Scared of a little competition, Matthews?” I follow her. She’s at least a head shorter than me, so I keep pace with her easily.
She makes her way to the elevator and presses the button, waiting.
“Jessie,” she corrects me without looking at me. “And no. If it scared me to compete with you, Mac, I’d never get anything done.”
“Should I list all the times I got a better grade than you? Beat you to an opportunity?”
She stiffens, pinching her lips, tight and frustrated. I recognize this look: I see it when I get a better grade than her. I try to fight a smirk.
The elevator arrives, dings, and the doors open for us. We step inside.
“It would be a short list. Don’t waste your breath,” she says.
A fire roars to life in my chest. Does she feel it too? The heat of competition. Is that what was between us that night? Or was that heat something else entirely? I’ve never felt like that with anyone, and I have no idea how to name it.
“Maybe a better use of your time would be partying less and studying more,” Jessie says as she exits the elevator, keeping a brisk pace. Is she referring to the Halloween party?
This is my opening.
“Speaking of partying, I was hoping we could talk about the ATZ party.”
“Or we could…not.” Jessie stops abruptly and looks me dead in the eye. There’s a tight smile painted on her face, and her head is cocked to the side.
And then it dawns on me.
Jessie is playing The Game.
Not talking about that night, not acknowledging what happened between us—it’s part of our game. The sarcasm, the banter, exciting. If we acknowledge the party, our dynamic might change. Maybe she’s just not ready for that. Maybe I’m not ready for it.
Jessie raises her eyebrows at me as if to ask, “Agreed?” And then she nods, tight smile and all, and walks away.
I nearly lost the game bringing all this up, and she knows it. The smug satisfaction on her face is enough to make me zip my lips.
So who will it be, Jessie Matthews? Which of us will break first?
CHAPTERFOUR
JESSIE
