Jo
"JUST FOR YOU." My favorite cook, Martha, says once she hands me the tray of food and I smile at her before turning around and heading towards my usual table.
Carter's eyes dart between his tray and mine and beside me, he asks in the most clueless tone ever, "What does that mean?"
"It means she gives me diabetic-friendly food for lunch."
His brow arches. "You're diabetic?"
I nod. "I am." And then I drag a seat backwards with my hand before placing my tray on the table and taking a seat. "Flynn didn't tell you that?"
He shakes his head and immediately he sits, he starts devouring his burger. "No. Sorry about that. I thought that was for old people."
I roll my eyes. If I got a penny for the number of people who tell me this, I'd have a fortune by now. "No, it's not. Anyone can have diabetes. Even little kids."
"Huh?" He hums thoughtfully. He grimaces and pulls out a pickle from his mouth like Flynn did at Rosie's the other day. So, they both don't like pickles. Now that I think about it, it seems like a long time ago even though it was only about a month and a few weeks ago.
"So you don't get to eat sugar and all of that?"
"I can," I reply and sip slowly from my coke. "Just not as much as you can."
"Makes sense." He says mouthful and then he grins. He doesn't look like the typical football player. He's far too friendly and smiles a lot. He smiles more than Flynn does.
"Anyway," I start, cutting straight to the chase. I try to sound like a very concerned girlfriend. "I feel like he hides things from me, y'know? Sometimes, he's not straightforward with me and I don't know how long this will work if we're not open with each other."
Carter scratches his head. "I can only tell you what I can tell you. Anything else would be his story to tell, not mine."
"But you're his best friend." I whine.
He nods. "The more reason I have to keep his secrets a secret unless he's ready to tell you himself."
I resist the urge to groan even if I understand where he's coming from. I nod and swirl a chip in my ketchup.
"Alright then." He says. "You get three questions. What do you want to know?"
"For starters, is Flynn dyslexic? I mean he's not too bad in writing but you can never be so sure."
He chuckles. "What made you assume that?"
"I don't know if you were there, but on Monday, he pretty much freaked out when Miss Anderson told him to read out loud."
He shakes his head from side to side. "He's not. He's just scared."
"Of what?"
"Glossophobia. I think that's what it's called."
"Fear of public speaking?"
"Yes. That's it." He nods confidently.
Surprise is evident in my face. "Flynn can't talk in public?"
"Not exactly. He can but y'know, to a bunch of people? Speeches and all of that? He freaks out. Even while he was captain of the swim team, he avoided anything that had to do with speaking in public. Left it to Craig Dickston to do." He leans forward on the table. "Why the hell do you think he joined debate club in the first place?"
"Um, because he loves to argue?" I say but honestly, it's starting to make sense.
He blows a raspberry lamely. "No. He was trying to get better at public speaking. That's one of the things you learn as a debater right?"
"Yeah. Amanda was like that before, but she got better with more practice." I say. "Plus, he didn't seem too serious about the club in the first place. Always showing up late or distracting everyone with snacks or something," I grin a little. "He was barely there sometimes."
"Yeah, well, he's always been good at avoiding the problem at hand." He's done with his food. "Alright then. Your second question?"
I lean back on my seat and sigh. Carter is eyeing my burger so I just give in and slide my plate over to him. He smiles gratefully and dives in.
"Sometimes he runs off when school's not over. And some days, he doesn't come at all. Where does he go to?"
Carter smiles grimly. "The hospital."
My brows furrow. "Why? Is he sick?"
"No. Ellie is." He pauses. "He's told you about his sister right?"
"Yeah. Kind of," I say slowly. "She's going to be okay, right?"
"I hope so. I really do."
"You hope so?" I drop my burger on the plate. "Does she have some kind of terminal disease?"
He licks his lips and sighs. "Look, I've known Flynn since I was six. He was a quiet kid when I first met him. Didn't talk much. Didn't smile much. He was barely interested in whatever was going on around him. He got better at social interaction eventually, I mean obviously, but then, the only time I really saw him smile or play around was when he was with Ellie. He was really selfish with her. Still is, sometimes. So he doesn't like to talk about her that much." He grabs my novel, takes out a pen from his pocket and then he scribbles something on it.
"What's this?" I ask as he slides the book over to me and read the words.
Elynne and Fellie.
"Ellie has a YouTube Channel," he says. "It was active when they were younger but you can still see more of her there. She came up with that name, by the way." He smiles.
I nod. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." He drums his hand on the table. "Last question?"
I twiddle my thumbs on the table and try to weigh my options. "How did he hurt his shoulder?"
Carter winces briefly and tries to hide it but I've seen it already. "He fell down the stairs."
"That's it?"
"Yup," he nods. "Common home accident. He was trying to get something so he tripped and fell down the stairs. Hit his shoulder pretty hard."
If I didn't know any better, he'd sound like he's saying the truth. But I don't think he is.
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"You said I could ask you three questions."
"I never said I'd answer truthfully though."
"Carter."
He laughs, clearly satisfied with messing around and then he sighs. "Until he tells you what happened, just believe he fell down the stairs. That's what people think happened too."
I let out an exasperated breath and shrug. "Fine."
"Good," he smiles. "By the way, we have a game next week. You should come. Sometimes, Flynn likes to be the mascot."
I snicker. "Really?"
"Oh yeah," he nods. He looks down at his watch and grimaces.
"Oh shit."
"What's up?"
He groans. "Mr Ross wanted to see me before the next period. Fuck knows what he wants."
I glance at my own watch too and see that lunch is almost over. I have a free period next and I'd taken it upon myself to finally go to the newspaper department and turn in my article. "You should go."
"Yeah." He gets to his feet and ruffles my hair. I don't get the chance to slap his hand away because he retracts it pretty quickly. "Gotta run. See you around, Jo." And then he leaves.
â
ON MY WAY up to the newspaper department, the only thing I can think of is the new information swirling around in my head about Flynn's sister and his phobia. He goes to the hospital every time because she's sick. And with the way Carter responded, I doubt it's anything but simple. It could mean it's something life-threatening. Oh god. Even if Drew and I aren't as close as we used to be, I can't imagine him on the sick bed without wanting to ball my eyes out.
I bump into someone without looking and when I look down, papers are strewn all over the stairs and the victim is placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Jo? Are you okay?"
I look up at Daniel and find him peering at me with concern and curiosity. Usually, he's only a few inches taller than me but since he's standing one step higher, he looks taller than usual. He's dressed corporately as he always does and it makes me wonder if he ever dresses casually. Or maybe this is just his style or something and I always find it attractive. But today, when I look at his sweater and pants, I feel slightly weary.
"Yeah." I blink. "Yeah. Sorry, I wasn't looking."
He smiles and gives my shoulder a squeeze. "It's all good."
He bends to the floor, just as I do and then we pick up the papers together. When I get to my feet to hand him the papers I'm holding, he's already staring at me.
"So? What are you up to?"
I take a deep breath and mentally send words of affirmation to myself. You can do this. "Actually, I was going to turn in an article today? Besides, you said you wanted to see one but I've never had the chance to show it to you."
He nods, like he remembers. "Right. I was just about heading somewhere but we can do this now. These can wait."
"I don't want to ruin your plans or anything. I can come back another time."
"No, please," he says firmly. "I don't mind. We could have some coffee while we're at it. That's if you don't mind."
My posture becomes a little stiff after that. I'm not sure what this is, because weeks ago if he'd asked me to stay for coffee, I'd probably have a whole party going on in my head. But now, the excitement that comes is fleeting. It disappears as fast as it comes and even though I still find him really attractive, there's something missing.
Still, I chin up and smile because I've always wanted this. Regardless of whatever I'm feeling right now. "I don't mind."
He grins. His typical Daniel Corrigan smile. The one that usually makes me weak in the knees. But my knees aren't weak or jelly anymore. It only makes me blush and I tuck my lips in and awkwardly grin back.
We head up the stairs in an awkward silence and I almost let out a sigh of relief once the huge door comes into view. Chairs, tables and empty coffee cups are littered all around the space and I promptly step away from the empty pizza box on the floor. A girl is seated on a chair close to the wall and a laptop is right in front of her. But she barely notices us because a headphone is framing her dark mane of hair and she's gently swaying her head from side to side.
"Sorry." Daniel apologizes sheepishly. "It's not this much of a mess all the time. It's a good thing I don't work here."
I turn to him and raise my brow. "Oh?"
"Yeah. I'd have gone nuts if I did. I can't thrive in a messy environment," he explains and nods for me to follow. "I've got my own space."
He leads us further into the room and when he approaches a door and holds it wide open, I hesitate a little before stepping in. I turn around when he comes in after me and slowly closes the door. But fortunately, he doesn't lock it.
"Have a seat." He offers and I take a seat on the swivel chair and swivel around a bit. His office is small but prim and extremely proper that it almost makes me feel like a speck of dirt. A moderately sized table, a desktop computer, a small shelf filled with books and carefully stacked papers and stationery adorn his desk. Just what I expected from him.
"Nice office." I say as he drops the papers on the table, arranging them one more time before heading towards the coffee maker at the corner.
"Thanks." He responds. "I guess been president does have its perks."
I hum thoughtfully and then I lift my bag to my thighs and unzip it to bring out my journal.
"I hope there's no jealous boyfriend lurking around or something. Should I be scared?" He asks as he turns around with two cups of steaming coffee. I'm not sure of the best way to respond since he pretty much sounds like he's joking but sometimes you can never really tell.
I draw my lips into a thin line. "He's not like that."
"Oh?" He smiles. "Well, thank God."
I don't like how condescending he sounds but yet, I don't comment on it.
He hands me the cup of coffee and his finger grazes mine. Just like earlier, the tingles come and go within seconds. "Thanks."
"No, thank you Jo. For dropping by." He surprises me by taking a seat on his table, very close to me. "We should have done this a long time ago."
"Yeah, but you bailed on me so..." I trail off and shrug before flipping through my journal and tearing out one of my poems.
He visibly winces. "Right. I regret that."
I look up at him, observing his features all over again. Shiny blonde hair and pale blue eyes. He and Flynn look entirely different. "Do you?"
He pats his pant clad thighs and folds his arms. "I do. I'm sorry again."
"It's okay." I wave him off. "I'm over it."
He laughs. "Clearly."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know Jo," he says, looking straight at me. "It baffles me, really. At some point when I met you, I could swear you felt something for me."
I can't help the heat that warms my face. Was I really that obvious? Did he know all this time? "What?"
He shrugs. "I'm not sure. I could be wrong but at some point, it felt like it. So imagine my surprise when I hear about you dating Flynn in less than two weeks."
"I'm not sure what you're trying to imply." I zip up my bag and place the paper on the table.
He runs a hand through his hair and stands up from the table. "I'll give you a feedback on this." He says, referring to my article and I breathe properly before getting to my feet.
"Thanks." I start to head towards the door.
"And then we could talk about it over a burger or something."
I turn around sharply and meet his gaze. He's spotting a neutral expression but the corners of his mouth are slowly lifting. "I'm not exactly sure of the kind of impression it would leave if I went on a date with someone who's not my boyfriend."
He shrugs. "It's only a date if you call it a date. We just want to talk about what we both love to do. Writing."
I lick my lips and try to keep it calm but my mind is racing and even though, I feel flustered, I can't help but feel a slight panic at the bottom of my stomach. Then I think about Flynn and I remember Semia's invite to her party and the look they shared at the field and I look back at him, with my insides twisting.
"You call the shots, Jo. Date, time, place. Whenever you're ready. I'm not trying to impose anything. I don't think it's a bad idea for friends to hang out. Just saying."
I almost laugh. So that's what this is now? We're friends. I was hoping he'd notice me and now he does. And I suddenly wish he didn't. "I'll think about it." Flynn has made progress with Semia. I have no reason not to make mine. That was the point of pretending to go out with him anyway. And Craig has been silent since the beach party so what could possibly go wrong?
He seems satisfied and then he plops down on his seat. "Alright." He smiles knowingly and waves. "I'll see you around, Josephine."