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Was that a cup?
I backed away, unnoticed. Before I knew what I was doin’ or where I was standin’, I was at Jackson’s bedroom door.
“Jackson?” I called out, knockin’ softly.
No answer.
“Jackson, you in there?”
Still, no answer.
My hand turned the knob and I peeked one eye into his space, in case he was…
I don’t know, naked.
Ain’t nobody wanna see that.
“Where are you?” I said to myself, findin’ his bedroom empty.
It smelled like a giant butthole.
How do boys live like this?
There was a mess everywhere—shoes, clothes, football equipment, even the suit jacket he was wearin’ today—on his unmade bed.
I walked around as though a bomb was about to go off, keepin’ my eyes peeled for booby traps along the way. Trust me, if he found me in his room, he’d explode in my face.
Lookin’ out the window next, I searched for him through the darkness.
“Jackson?”
“Holy shit, you really are Nancy Drew.”
I jumped out of my skin, hittin’ my head on the window rail. “Ow!”
“Serves you right for snooping.”
Followin’ the sound of his voice, I found him sittin’ on the roof. His collared shirt was halfway unbuttoned, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. His hair was ruffled up like he’d been pullin’ at it, yet it was his eyes that shocked me the most.
He’d been cryin’.
Was that why he was up there by himself?
“You’ve been cryin’,” I blurted what I was thinkin’.
“No shit, Captain Obvious.”
“Umm… should I… I mean… do you—”
“No, nosey ass, you’re already standin’ there. Just come up here.”
“How?”
“I thought Harley could do anything I could do.”
I glared at him, and he nodded toward the tree branch above my head.
“I’m wearin’ a dress.”
