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“A re you alright?” Jax murmurs in my ear .

I’m lying with my head on his shoulder, watching a movie play on his laptop, which he’s turned around to face the bed. His room is dark, and his roommate is out. Jax smells like the Axe body spray that I periodically make fun of, and like home, the way he always does to me. But I never tell him that .

This is where I should be alright .

He rubs his hand over my arm. “You’re all shivering and goose-bumpy. Are you cold? Want me to turn up the heat ?”

“I’m fine,” I say. “Rough afternoon with the guys .”

He falls back into his own pillow, the warmth of his body pulling away from me. “There’s got to be a better way. Teenagers saving the world from poltergeists? Really , Ash ?”

I quirk my lips to one side. He doesn’t know my sister that well anymore, clearly .

“I worry about you.” His eyes are fixed on the screen. Jax’s shoulder-length brown hair is pushed back behind his ears; he’s been growing into his height lately, suddenly broad-shouldered and rangy. Other girls look at him in a way no one did in high school .

“That’s kind of our thing.” I turn over closer to him, snuggling my head onto his chest again. “This’ll be over soon. They’ll move on. And it’ll be back to normal .”

“I don’t know if there’s ever going to be such a thing as normal for you,” he says softly, but he puts his arm back around me. He pats my hip absently, or maybe not so absently; it’s a comforting weight .

“Maybe I’ll be cured someday,” I say, although I don’t think it’s lucky to be cured, and I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be plain old Ash, nothing special about me. But I can tell this is what Jax wants, so I can indulge in this fantasy for a minute. “You know, Luke used to be psychic, and now he isn’t .”

“And he still can’t quit,” Jax says, “Even though that seems like a pretty clear sign that it’s time to turn in your time card .”

“I’ve read adrenaline is addictive.” I can’t quite make sense of it, though; I get excited by a fight, hyped to dive in—I was happy enough to take on that guy who threatened Luke—but then I came down hard from the adrenaline .

It’s as if I don’t mind a fight, but I couldn’t stand the possibility of letting down Mave and Luke .

When I think about how Luke went after the guys who threatened me, I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything. It’s the cave girl side of me that responds to his dark competence and his protective nature. I’m so drawn to him…and yet the guy at my side right now is everything I need .

“You shouldn’t worry about me so much.” I turn my face into Jax’s neck, and the stubble of his day-old shave scrapes against my forehead. “I’m not worth it .”

For a few long seconds, that hangs between us. I regret telling what he’s never seen, even though it’s always been the truth. I’ve never deserved Jax. Things have changed between us, but I’m still not girlfriend material .

Jax says into my hair, so softly that I can barely hear his voice: “You’re worth everything .”

I half sit up, pulling away from him. He looks up at me with those hazel bedroom eyes .

My orange hair sways between us, shielding me from his kind gaze .

“I’m sorry my hair is so ugly,” I say, distracted by the orange. “It’s really ruining the moment .”

Jax laughs out loud at that. “Ash. You are the one ruining the moment .”

“It’s a really bad dye job .”

“Yeah, it is. You should have gone to a salon .”

“That wasn’t in the budget .”

“I think Luke just wanted to see you blond .”

“Let’s not talk about Luke .”

He looks back at me, his eyes still soft. He doesn’t know that I like Luke. Or maybe he can sense it, but he doesn’t care. The things between us—a friendship since second grade, the sprouting of romance—is deeper and richer than my crush on some guy with big muscles and a caveman sensibility .

“Let’s not talk,” Jax says, reaching up to tangle his fingers in that awful, frizzy orange hair. His touch tugs at my scalp and sends a jolt down my spine. His fingers span the back of my head, and he pulls me–gently, tentatively–toward his face .

Jax’s lips are thin but soft. He smells like spearmint toothpaste, and I smile against his mouth. He brushed his teeth when he knew I was on my way over. He totally expected this. How does this boy know me so well ?

“Do you brush your teeth every time I come over, just in case?” I whisper .

“I brush my teeth three times a day because I believe in personal hygiene,” he whispers back. “And you are, once again, fucking up the beautiful moment .”

“ Sorry .”

Despite that, our mouths hover close together, and then he kisses me again. I let my eyes drift shut, enjoying my best friend so close to me, the way his hand tightens on my hip as he draws me even closer to his body .

I don’t know where to go from here, though. Jax and I kiss with increasing passion. Warmth floods my chest, and then suddenly my whole body is hot. His lips press against mine over and over, and my lips part against his, seeking more. With his hand on my hip, his fingertips rest casually on the curve of my ass, and even though he doesn’t move, suddenly I am keenly aware of him .

But I can’t turn my brain off: I’m not ready to go further than kissing him. What does he expect? Oh my god, what if he expects that when we finally acknowledge how we feel, we’ll mark the moment with sex? What if he expects us to talk about the way we love each other? These two levels of intimacy are equally terrifying to me .

My eyes open again, and maybe Jax responds to the subtle shift of tension in my body, because his eyes drift open too .

He smiles at me, looking smug and self-content, and all my fears suddenly flood away in the face of Jax’s little smirk. I grin, ducking my head .

“Fucking finally, ” Jax says. “Now can we get back to the movie ?”

“What? That wasn’t any good ?”

“I’d give you at least a B,” he says .

“At least I’ll get one of those this semester.” I put my head back down on his shoulder. I squint, but I have no idea what’s going on on-screen. “You want to know what grade I’d give you ?”

“ No .”

“ Really ?”

“Really,” he says, digging his fingers into my side to tickle me. “Stop being obnoxious .”

“You gave me a grade .”

“I was trying to encourage you. You’re just being weird .”

“I am not being weird .”

“Ash, any time things start to get emotional, you start being weird .”

That’s probably true. Jax tends to know me better than I know myself .

Jax presses his lips to my forehead in a soft, firm kiss, lingering for a second before he turns back to the screen, his hand continuing to rub my hip. Affectionate. Boyfriend - like .

“You like my weird,” I tell him .

“Ehh,” he says. “I don’t know that I would go that far. But I like you, weird bits and all .”

I pat his chest. “I like you, Marching Band and all .”

“Marching Band is awesome. You don’t even know .”