If I Tell

and now, when he’d offered his friendship and the sharing of music and his awesome guitar, I’d pounced all over him. What was wrong with me? Did I really have a need to mess everything up? I remembered what Lacey had said about screwing up friendships.
    With a deep sigh, I placed his guitar down beside me on the couch and stood as Jackson walked around the corner holding two glasses filled with ice and water. Probably he wanted to dump it over my head. Calm down my hormones or something.
    “Hey. What’s up?” he asked, glancing at his guitar.
    I swallowed a lump. “I, uh, put your guitar down carefully. Don’t worry. I love it. It’s awesome, but, um, I have to get going.” I stared at the ground. “I kind of forgot I was supposed to help my grandma with some stuff tonight.”
    “You were?” He walked forward and put the glasses down on the coffee table in front of the couch. “You’re sure? Let’s have a drink of water first. Talk about this. We need to talk.”
    I bit my lip and forced a smile. “No. No. It’s okay. Really. I’m late. I totally forgot. I have to get going. My grandma is really strict. She’ll kill me if I’m any later.” I wrung my hands together nervously. “Um. I love your guitar. Thanks for showing me.” I coughed. “Uh. I’ll get my cell from my backpack and call a cab.” I grabbed my guitar case from the floor.
    Jackson waved his hand in the air, dismissing me. “Jaz. We really need to talk.”
    No. I didn’t want to do that. Not at all. I didn’t need more humiliation. “No. No. I have to go. Now. I’ll call a cab.”
    He crossed his arms. “Forget it. I’ll drive you home.”
    I nodded, embarrassed. Truthfully, I didn’t have much cash on me or else I would have insisted.
    Jackson reached over and grabbed his guitar from the couch. “I’m sorry…I want to tell you…I have to…”
    “No, no,” I interrupted. I so did not need an explanation of why kissing me revolted him. I forced a smile. “It’s fine. I just have to get home.” I took my guitar and hurried to the hallway and slipped on my shoes. I opened the door and stepped out into the main hallway, not wanting to be alone with him for another second. I slung my backpack over my other shoulder, clutching the strap close to my chest.
    “Shit. Just a sec,” he called and rushed to his room with his Martin. When he came out of the apartment, I dashed toward the elevator as he locked up. I pushed the button and he joined me. I wished I could shrivel up and disappear into a layer of wrinkles, unrecognizable as my seventeen-year-old self and like one of the old people who lived there.
    “Hey,” Jackson said. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. It’s not what you think. I have some things to work out.”
    I cringed, imagining his impending “I only like you as a friend” speech, and attempted a fake laugh. “Don’t worry.” I jumped as my cell started ringing in my backpack pocket. I’d never been so happy to get a call in my whole life.
    I made a big production of answering my call, and the elevator finally arrived. We stepped inside as I said, “Hello?”
    “Jasmine. Where are you? You didn’t let me know where you were headed after karaoke.” Grandma sounded panicky.
    I opened my mouth to calm her, but she kept talking.
    “It’s your mom, sweetie. She’s gone into labor. Hard and fast labor.”
    An image of my mom pulling the baby out like she’d threatened to flashed in my head, and I made a face. “But she’s not due for a month,” I said stupidly.
    “Well, apparently this baby is in a hurry. I’m sure it’s because your stubborn mother doesn’t want a baby shower. Anyway, it’s coming.”
    “Is she all right? I mean, is the baby okay?” Fear stabbed me. “Where’s Mom?”
    “They’re on their way to the hospital. In Pullayup. Her and Simon. I’m on my way too. I’ll pick you up. Are you at Grinds? Lacey said you probably went there after karaoke.”
    I blushed but spun around and glanced at Jackson. He didn’t hide his curiosity. “No. I’m with a friend from work.”
    “Does she have a car? Can she get you to the hospital?” I didn’t bother to correct the mistaken gender of my friend.
    “Hold on.” I covered the mouthpiece. “Could you drop me off at the hospital instead of home?”
    “Of course,” Jackson said.
    I lifted the phone back to my mouth. “Yup, I can get dropped there. Where do I go? Where do I meet you?”
    The elevator doors