If I Tell

to come swimming with me,” Ashley said when she finally dropped me off at home. “Show yourself that you can.”
    “I can’t.” I looked out the window at the front-porch light Grandma had left on for me. “I’m afraid.”
    “I know. But I’ll help you. You need to do it. So you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
    I shook my head.
    “Well, when you’re ready, you know where I am.”

chapter eight
    My mind wandered, refusing to concentrate on the test lying on the desk in front of me. I flicked my pencil up and down and glanced up, catching Jackson watching me. He flashed a smile. I swallowed a desire to stick my tongue out at him and then flushed, realizing I also had an urge to stick my tongue right inside his mouth. To kiss him.
    Oh. My. God. What was wrong with me? I ducked my head quickly. How could I be fantasizing about that with Jackson after what had happened with Nathan?
    I tried to focus on the exam and not squirm with embarrassment every time I remembered something I’d said to Jackson in his car, but even as I finished the last essay question, I knew I wouldn’t be proud when the grades came back. I should have cared more, but I didn’t.
    The bell rang, and as Mr. Dustan got up to collect the papers from our desks, I scrambled to grab my backpack from under my chair. Feet walked up next to mine. Bigger feet, wearing Converse shoes. Upside down, I stared at them.
    “So. You survived?” Jackson’s deep voice asked.
    I swallowed and sat up. I nodded and stood, pretending to be a lot calmer than I felt.
    “Did you have a bad hangover?” Jackson asked.
    It took a lot of muscles to force out a fake smile. “It wasn’t too bad.” I wondered if heads could explode from embarrassment. I considered running out of the room screaming. That might be less humiliating.
    “Good.”
    Go away, I thought in my head. Go. Away.
    He stayed. “They say the best way to avoid a hangover is to stay drunk. But I wouldn’t suggest it for a lightweight like you.”
    “Probably not the best idea.” I was a little too freaked for a witty comeback.
    “Probably not.”
    “So?” he said as if he expected me to say more.
    My heart thumped in my chest. I read tiny white words on his black shirt. His tight black shirt. His chest was awesome. I squinted to read: “Sometimes when I’m alone I google myself.” I smiled and tried to make myself say something. Nothing.
    “You working tonight?” he asked.
    “Um. Yeah.”
    He nodded but didn’t bolt to escape my lame conversational skills, probably sticking because he felt sorry for my dorky ass. At least when I was drunk I hadn’t been afraid to talk. I heard giggling behind us and turned my head.
    “Oh. What’s this? Have we got ourselves a little interracial love match?” said Tina Fawcett, a nasty girl with huge boobs and a tiny IQ.
    In first grade I’d invited her over for a play date when she first moved down the street from me. She’d come, but when I went to her house, she told me her father didn’t want her playing with “someone like me.” I’d gone home in tears. That was the first time I’d ever heard Grandpa swear. He told me to stay away from Tina, and I took his advice.
    I remembered her voice screaming at the pool though. She had been one of the first to start the taunts, but I was lucky that she’d chosen to ignore me all these years since.
    “Screw off,” Jackson told Tina nonchalantly without even looking at her.
    Tina opened her eyes wide, glancing at her friends, and then she stared at Jackson as if offering him a challenge. Boys weren’t supposed to talk back to her. Her boobs were supposed to prevent that.
    Jackson smiled at me, ignoring her. “Tell me you’re not a freak too.”
    “You didn’t hear?” I fought to match his calm as I zipped up my backpack, ignoring the girls eyeballing us. I stepped away from my desk, and Jackson stepped aside to give me room. “Apparently my skin makes me dirty .” My heart pumped with my audacity. But talking to Ashley about almost drowning had made the memory fresher, and I wasn’t a scared eleven-year-old anymore.
    Tina didn’t even flinch. “Now here’s a match made in crack heaven,” she spit out. “The druggie and the not-quite-black girl.”
    My heart tripped over itself, but Jackson didn’t even glance her way. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Remember what I said about gossip and judging?” He spoke so close that I felt moisture on my ear and smelled