If I Tell

own. Like I always did.
    ***
    Not in the mood for caffeine, I ordered a juice from Amber and settled into a quiet corner table to get to work on my homework. My heart skipped a beat thinking about seeing Jackson in a few hours when he’d be working with me. Talk about getting signals wrong. I’d have to act like nothing had happened.
    Halfway through a calculus equation, I was startled by a voice in the coffee line.
    I glanced up. Jackson was in line, leaning against the counter and casually chatting with Amber at the cash register. My heart flopped, and I chomped harder on my pencil. He laughed and flicked back his hair with an unconscious toss of his head. In line behind Jackson, an annoyingly gorgeous girl with long blond hair was eyeing his butt. I couldn’t blame her. It was a butt worth staring at.
    Jackson flashed a sexy half grin at Gorgeous Girl, and the orange juice in my stomach curdled. I watched as he placed a hand on her back and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. She smiled adoringly up at him, and then he turned to Amber and ordered coffee. Two coffees.
    Amber glanced over and caught my eye and quickly looked away. I stared down at my math book, mortified. I wished I could fade into the background. Why had coming early to do homework seemed like a good idea?
    I pretended to be absorbed in my work, praying somehow that Jackson wouldn’t notice me tucked into the corner. I barely moved or breathed, hoping he’d take his coffee and the girl to go.
    “Jaz?”
    Wincing, I sucked in a breath, forced a smile, and looked up. Jackson and the girl approached my table. Jackson’s cheeks looked unusually red and his face uncomfortable as if his underwear was scratchy. I hoped his underwear crawled with ants. Red ants that bit.
    They got closer. The pretty blond gaped at me with wide, curious eyes. Her eyelashes were long and coated in mascara.
    “Who’s your friend?” she asked. She didn’t seem jealous to meet me though. As if it would be absurd that someone like me would be a threat. Someone like me would never practically stick my tongue down Jackson’s throat.
    Jackson didn’t seem to hear her. His mouth stiffened.
    “Hey. I thought you didn’t work until later,” he said to me.
    “I don’t.” I glanced down at my work. “Homework.” I sneaked another look at the gorgeous creature at his side.
    “Oh.” He brushed his bangs back. “How’s your mom? She had her baby okay?”
    I nodded. “Yeah. She’s okay.”
    “Your mom had a baby?” the girl asked me. “That is totally weird.”
    “My mom is only thirty-three,” I told her.
    “Wow. My mom’s like fifty. I can’t imagine her having a baby.” She scrunched up her pretty face.
    I nodded and glanced down, pretending to mull over my math homework.
    “You got your guitar okay?” Jackson asked.
    “Guitar?” the annoying chick chirped.
    I looked up.
    “Uh. This is Carrie,” he said to me. Based on the look on his face, his underwear had gotten even scratchier. “This is Jaz,” he said to Carrie.
    “I’m his girlfriend from Whistler,” the blond told me, holding out her free hand to inspect her nails as if explaining she’d just come in first in a beauty pageant.
    I swallowed. His girlfriend?
    “Oh. Well, I only know Jackson from work,” I babbled. “Barely.” Not well enough to know he had a girlfriend. “Um. Nice to meet you, Carrie.” I pushed myself up, needing to escape, no matter how rude that was. “I have to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.”
    I hurried past them, almost bumping Carrie’s coffee right out of her perfect hand as I squeezed past. Her perfect Caucasian hand.
    “Jaz, hey, wait,” Jackson called as I took off for the washroom.
    “Jackson, what are you doing?” Carrie demanded in a huffy voice. “What’s wrong with you?”
    I picked up my pace until I reached the safety of the women’s washroom. I burst through the door and dove into a stall, locking it behind myself and panting with humiliation.
    I dropped my butt on the toilet seat and put my head in my hands. A few minutes later, feet stepped inside the bathroom and stopped outside the stall.
    “Jaz?”
    Amber.
    I groaned.
    “He’s gone,” she said softly. “They left.”
    I nodded. “Okay,” I said out loud. “Thanks.”
    “You should talk to him. Don’t jump to conclusions,” Amber said.
    I snorted under my breath. “It’s no big deal. We’re just friends,” I called.
    Amber didn’t answer but she left. A