Page 37 of The Other Room

“It’s fine, Jenna. Just... let’s just finish this.” Jo tied a double knot in the string, properly securing the suit before trotting back into position.

Another silent conversation went down between the Parker sisters, but I was too disoriented to try and interpret it.

Did we almost kiss?

“We finishing this or what?” Blake grumbled.

If it wasn’t for the fact it’d be like running into a rhinoceros, I’d have tackled him into the sand and pummeled his face for interrupting what I was pretty sure was a moment with Jo. A moment where we almost kissed.

It was, wasn’t it?

Or was I hallucinating that desire I could have sworn pooled in her eyes?

And thanks to Meathead, now I’d never know.

With a groan in part from my disappointment, and in part from the pain of our collision, I rose to my feet. “We’re finishing it.”

Jo and I avoided all eye contact while we finished the round, and I never felt better slamming that winning spike at that moment-ruining Meathead’s feet.

“Good game,” he said, then stumbled off the court for another beer I was certain he’d smash on his thick skull.

“Great game, guys!” Jenna trotted over and moved into the gap between Jo and me. A gap saturated with awkward silence. “So...”

“So.” Jo pursed her lips.

“So.” I clucked my cheek.

After a few moments, Jenna let out a breath. “Do you guys want to stick around? Have a beer?”

“No. We need to go,” Jo blurted. “Bye.”

Without another word, she spun on her heel and hurried back toward the jet ski.

I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Uh, I guess we’re going.”

“Bye, Matt.”

Jenna’s sympathetic smile admitted she’d seen what had happened. Or what had almost happened. But I couldn’t figure out the meaning behind the expression. Was it a “sorry we interrupted your moment” smile, or a “poor Matt, she only thinks of you as a friend, you dumbass” smile? I glanced over my shoulder and saw Jo disappearing into the trees on her way back to the jet ski. It was time to go.

And I’d never know which sympathetic smile Jenna had given me.

“Bye, Jenna. I’ll see you later.”

The sympathy in her face only deepened, and with it my confusion.

With the weight of my disappointment heavy on my shoulders, I slunk after Jo and went back to the jet ski. When I got there, she’d already pulled the anchor and was sitting up front, her hands on the handles and the engine running.

“Ready?” she asked, but her eyes looked everywhere but mine.

Her icy cool expression gave me the answer. And it wasn’t the one I was hoping for. My overactive brain had turned an innocent moment into one with meaning. But only to me.

Just friends.

“Ready.” I climbed up behind her, and this time I knew I wouldn’t have the same issue I’d had the last two times I’d been on a jet ski with her.

This time I didn’t feel anything but devastated.

Friends. We’re just friends.