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She looks at me for one second longer. I don’t know what she reads on my face, but she nods and turns to go, slowing down a step for me to catch up, not leaving my side. She reaches for my hand and interweaves our fingers together as we walk in. I try not to get lost worrying about what it all means. I just want to borrow her warmth and strength in this moment.
And I try to ignore the insistent ticking of the clock counting down to the end of summer, when Jessica won’t be by my side any longer.
19
jessica
Elijah:Hi
I look down at my phone and burst into a smile. Two letters, one word...everything. My heart picks up speed just seeing his name on my screen.
Me:Hi :)
Elijah:Did you have fun?
Me:I did!!! I had the best time!
Elijah:I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night...
Oh.
My.
God.
He thought about me all night. Despite sitting at my desk in my office with the door closed, letting out a swoony sigh wouldn’t be appropriate at my place of work. And yet... I can’t hold it in. The breath most definitely releases from my mouth followed by a high-pitched squeal. I spin in a circle in my chair, tapping my feet as I go in a little dance. It’s the only way to release the excitement I’m feeling.
Elijah:I can still taste you on my lips
Holy cow. Now what do I say to that? I need Ella’s advice immediately. She’s the queen of flirting via text. I quickly type out a panicked message.
Me:OMG, Ella... Elijah and I made out last night and it was EVERYTHING and now he’s texting me saying he can still taste me and I want him to know I’m ALL about doing it again but without sounding too eager or desperate...even though I MOST DEFINITELY am! HELP ME! I need to sound like a sexy kitten. Make it quick. Please and thank you.
I hold my phone to my chest waiting for it to buzz with Ella’s response. A smile spreads over my face as I think about whatever it is she’s gonna help me say to Elijah to make him ask me out maybe. I don’t want to overthink any of this. I just want to enjoy it.
I jump when my phone vibrates with a new message. Dang, Ella is quick!
Elijah:I think you meant to send that last message to Ella. But just want you to know I’m all for the sexy kitten thing
Me:*facepalm*
I keep looking at the text exchange with Elijah from this morning, revisiting the feelings of equal parts elation and mortification. I’m still in shock that so much happened in just one night. But maybe that’s the magic ofHamilton.
The show made me feel...like the world is full of possibilities if I just fight for my place in it. It’s given me a new surge of energy for the work we have left on the hackathon. This is my shot.
It also made me believe that Elijah and I could really have something special. And I think Elijah feels it too.
A snapshot of Elijah in those perfectly tailored fitted jeans crosses my mind. I swallow back the urge to let myself drool at the memory. I’ve never really valued expensive clothing, and besides, I could never afford it either. It all seemed meaningless, spending that kind of money on luxury brands. But now that I’ve seen the good stuff on Elijah, I know how it can make what is already a pretty perfect body look even better. Personally, I could easily get addicted to how it makes me feel, getting to wear high-end designers myself.
And...then there was thatkiss. Elijah leaning in toward me against the brick wall. His lips on mine, his tongue doing things...
“Jessica-ssi, we need you in the boardroom,” Mr. Song says as he walks by my office door.
I jump up from my seat, knowing my mother would be mortified if she knew I’d just been caught by an elder while thinking lascivious thoughts about a boy. I nervously straighten my skirt, grab my notepad and pen, and rush to the boardroom. I find myself, yet again, being assigned note-taking duties for the leadership team meeting.
I rotate my hands in circles to stretch out my wrists, preparing to add all the curlicues and long-tails to my letters to provide that “pretty feminine writing.” I stop short of dotting myi’s with hearts.
If the trade-off for getting to plan and execute on the hackathon is to suffer through the humiliation of stressing over if my note-taking and penmanship pass muster with a group of backward-thinking men on a power trip, so be it.
