Page 52

“It’s wonderful stuff,” Jaxon and I say in unison, then laugh, which makes my chin hurt, which makes me wince, which makes Jaxon look worried, which makes my heart flutter.

“Can someone explain what Boat is?” Callie asks, throwing her hands up because she doesn’t understand the joke. “I’m assuming it’s a drug by the way he’s talking to a parking meter.”

“You can only do it once…” Jaxon trails off, a smile playing at his lips. That’s when we spot Fork Guy, now sporting a magnificent eye patch, approaching Bus Stop Guy with the swagger of someone who’s made enough bad decisions for one night.

“Yo!” Fork Guy calls. “Is that Patricia? The parking meter who broke my friend Kevin’s heart last week?”

Bus Stop Guy’s face lights up. “You know Patricia? Wait, is Kevin the guy who tried to serenade her with quarters?”

“That’s him! She took his money and still wouldn’t give him the time of day. Cold, man. Ice cold.”

I’m trying not to laugh because it hurts, but watching them bond over a parking meter’s love life is breaking me. Jaxon’s no help, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Jaxon leans into the window, chuckling. “I think they both did boat.”

“Looks that way.”

“I think,” Fork Guy says, “Patricia might have commitment issues. She’s got a thing for taking people’s money and ghosting them after two hours.”

“RIGHT?” Bus Stop Guy throws up his hands. “But I think I can change her…”

“Oh honey,” Callie mutters, “even I know that’s a red flag.”

Yes, this is actually happening.

Fork Guy leans against Patricia, the meter, then jumps back when it starts beeping. “Whoa! Sorry, didn’t mean to get handsy. I respect your boundaries.”

“She’s playing hard to get,” Bus Stop Guy insists. “Earlier, she was totally giving me signals.”

“Those were literally signals,” I call out. “Traffic signals.”

“See?” Fork Guy gestures. “Bush Girl gets it!”

“Bush Girl?” Callie raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story,” I sigh, and wince.

“Not that long,” Fork Guy chimes in. “She fell on her face stalking Baseball Boy here because they’re both emotionally constipated. No offense,” he tells Jaxon.

“Some offense taken,” Jaxon says, grinning.

“Says the guy who tried to eat ramen upside down,” I retort.

“Hey, it was for science!” Fork Guy protests. “Speaking of science, did you know Patricia has a PhD in transportation economics?”

“Really?” Bus Stop Guy is impressed. “I knew she was smart, but wow…”

“I can’t believe we’re watching two guys romance a parking meter,” Callie whispers. “Actually, wait, yes I can. This is exactly how this night ends.”

“Still better game than you and Jameson,” I whisper back, earning a slap on the arm.

“Anyway,” Fork Guy announces, “I should go ice my face. Eye patches aren’t as comfortable as pirates claim. But hey,” he tells Bus Stop Guy, “try Coffee Bean on 4th? I hear their meters are more into casual dating.”

“You know what?” Bus Stop Guy straightens up. “You’re right. Patricia’s not ready for what I offer. Plus, those meters take credit cards. That’s hot.”

“That’s the spirit!” Fork Guy gives him a high five. “There are plenty of meters in the sea. Or the street. Whatever, you get it.”

They both wave goodbye to Patricia, Fork Guy adding, “Your loss, girl,” for good measure.

I’m laughing so hard it hurts, and even Jaxon’s given up holding it in.

“Only in Seattle,” Callie shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “Can we please go home before we witness more parking meter drama?”

“Wait,” Fork Guy calls as he's leaving. “Baseball Boy! Don’t forget that psych essay! And Bush Girl, ice that chin! And remember the forks!”

“The forks?” Callie looks confused.

“Don’t ask,” Jaxon and I say at the same time, and laugh again.

“So,” Jaxon leans into Callie’s window, “I need a ride back to campus?”

I look away. I can’t handle his eyes on me.

“Get in!” Callie says, too enthusiastically.

Jaxon climbs into the backseat, and I swear I can feel his presence like static.

“So,” Callie breaks the silence as we pull away, “anyone want to explain the fork thing? Or why Fork Guy’s wearing an eye patch? Or why there’s a guy serenading a parking meter?”

“Well,” Jaxon leans forward, close enough that I can smell his cologne mixing with post-practice sweat that shouldn’t be attractive but somehow is, “it started with upside-down ramen…”

“And ended with questionable relationship advice,” I add, ignoring how his arm is draped behind my seat.

“Speaking of questionable decisions,” Jaxon’s voice is near my ear, “that was some impressive bush-diving back there. Care to explain?”

“Oh yeah?” I turn, wincing as my chin protests. “And what would you rate it?”

Like how I ignored why I was even stalking him? Me too.

“Technical difficulty: 8.5. Style: 9. Landing needs work.”

“The concrete kind of came out of nowhere.”

“That’s what concrete does. Sneaky.”

From the sidewalk, Bus Stop Guy yells, “PATRICIA, THIS COULD HAVE BEEN US!” Fork Guy chimes in, “Let her go, man! Let her go!”

“Should we be concerned?” Callie asks, watching in her mirror.

“Nah,” Jaxon says. “Fork Guy’s actually smart when he’s not defying gravity with noodles. He’s in my psych class.”

“The one with the essay due tomorrow?” I remind him.

“Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that one.”

“About behavioral psych?” I continue. “The one you haven’t started?”

“How did you?—?”

“Fork Guy mentioned it. Three times.”

Callie snorts. “Someone’s pulling an all-nighter.”

“Unless…” Jaxon leans forward, and I can hear the smile in his voice, “someone really good at psychology helps me?”

“You mean the someone who just face-planted spying on you?”

“Exactly. You’ve got excellent observational skills.”

I can’t help but laugh, even though it hurts. “That’s a stretch.”

“I’m serious,” he says. “Think about it. Firsthand experience with impulsive behavior, risk assessment, cause and effect…”

“Don’t forget gravity,” Callie chimes in. “She’s an expert now.”

“See? Perfect. Plus,” his voice softens, “I don’t want to do this alone.”

And damn if that doesn’t get me. I blame lidocaine. And his stupid cologne. And the way his arm drapes behind my seat like it belongs there.

“Fine,” I sigh. “But I want it noted that this is against my better judgment.”

“Noted,” he says, and I can hear his grin. “Just like how making out while doing handstands was against Fork Guy’s better judgment.”

“That’s not what he was doing,” Callie protests.

“No, but it’s a better story than ‘I wanted to see if I could eat ramen upside down.’”

Driving back to campus, Fork Guy and Bus Stop Guy shrink in the mirror, but I swear I still hear their goodbyes to Patricia the parking meter. Something about how she’ll regret this when she’s old and rusted.

“You know,” Jaxon says, “I think Fork Guy was right about one thing.”

“The emotional cutlery?”

“Yeah.” He ruffles my hair over the back seat. “Sometimes you have to pull the fork out.”

I look at him, smiling. “Even if it hurts?”

“Even if it hurts.”

Callie makes gagging noises. “If you two start using fork metaphors for your relationship, I’m pulling over."

But she’s smiling, and so am I. I think about Fork Guy, probably right now convincing his roommate that eating ramen right-side up is for quitters.

Walking back to the dorms, Callie rambles about never seeing plastic forks the same again, but I’m distracted by how Jaxon keeps “accidentally” brushing against me.

“I should probably get started on that essay,” he says, but his voice has that low edge that makes my stomach flip.

He leans close, lips brushing my ear. “I was thinking about an experiment. Something about positive reinforcement and…” his hand slides along my lower back, pulling at my shirt, “...muscle memory.”

“You two are disgusting,” Callie announces, already backing away with a knowing grin. “I’m going to bleach my brain and pretend I don’t know exactly what’s about to happen.”

“We’re just studying!” I call.

“Yeah, anatomy.” She flips us off without turning around. “Use protection and ice that chin!”

Jaxon’s already dragging me toward his dorm, fingers laced with mine. “You know,” he murmurs against my neck, “I’ve got some utensils of my own that definitely won’t need pulling out.”

“That was terrible,” I laugh, then gasp as he presses me to his door. “Seriously, the worst.”

“Mmm. But I made you smile, so whatever.”

His lips are inches from mine, and all I can think is this is probably a bad idea, but I’ve already face-planted into concrete tonight. Might as well commit to bad decisions.

“Yeah, you did,” I manage, even as my hands slide under his shirt.

He draws a deep breath, eyes locked on mine. “Are you gonna tell me why you were stalking me?”

“Nope.”

“All right. We don’t need to talk.” There’s a loaded suggestion in his voice, and I follow him inside.

I know, I know. I shouldn’t fall back into bed with him... I blame bush diving. And Fork Guy. And the way Jaxon looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters, even with my busted chin and questionable decisions.

Maybe Fork Guy was right. Sometimes you’ve got to pull out the emotional cutlery and deal with the fallout later.

Or in my case, let Jaxon pull me in and help me forget everything but the feel of his hands and the way he whispers my name like a secret.

Rule: If a guy with a fork in his eye gives you relationship advice, maybe don’t listen. But if the boy you can’t stop falling for presses you against his door and makes you forget why falling’s a bad idea in the first place... well, that’s a different kind of gravity.