to a Girl’s Everything
I wake up slowly to the sound of a text coming in. I groan as I think about ignoring it, about staying wrapped up in my covers where it’s warm and comfortable and perfect. But I’ve been slow in responding to Heather’s texts since I got to Alaska, and that’s not cool.
Except when I roll over and grab my phone, I realize two things. One, it’s after ten in the morning, which means I slept right through first period. And two, the text isn’t from Heather.
And it’s not from Macy, either. Instead, it’s from a number I don’t recognize.
Unknown: How is your ankle?
Flint? I wonder as I brush my hair out of my eyes and sit up. Or someone else?
For a moment, Jaxon’s eyes—deep, dark, fathomless— come to mind, but I can’t believe it’s him. Not when he’s been so hot and cold the entire time we’ve known each other. And definitely not when he told me last night that we were going to do things the hard way—whatever that means.
Deciding to play it safe, I text back:
Me: Who is this?
There’s a long pause. Then:
Unknown: Jaxon
It’s only one word, and yet it somehow all but crackles with indignation. Like he can’t imagine that I don’t already have his number in my phone, just waiting for him to finally get around to texting me. I should be annoyed at the assumption, but I’m amused instead. So amused that I can’t help answering:
Me: Jaxon who?
Jaxon: I don’t know the punch line
Me: To what?
Jaxon: Whatever knock-knock joke you’re setting up
I burst out laughing, because he’s funny over text in a way he hasn’t shown me in person.
Me: I’m terrible at knock-knock jokes
Jaxon: Finally some good news
Me: Hey!
Me: How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?
There’s a long pause, where I can totally imagine his face.
Then:
Jaxon: I didn’t realize octopi laughed
Yeah, that’s pretty much the response I expected.
Me: eye roll emoji
Me: Come on. Play along.
Jaxon: I just wanted to know how your ankle was
Me: Take a guess and I’ll tell you Another long pause.
Jaxon: 17
Me: 17?!?!?!?!?!
Jaxon: Well, it’s obviously not 8 or it wouldn’t be a joke Jaxon: And I don’t have a clue otherwise, so why not 17? Me: double eye roll emoji
Me: Let’s try this again
Me: How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?
This pause is so long that I’ve just about convinced myself that I’ve blown it and he isn’t going to answer. But then:
Jaxon: How many?
I nearly drop my phone in excitement, and I’m grinning so hard that my cheeks hurt. Which is ridiculous, but I’m learning that when it comes to this boy, I’m ridiculous.
Me: Ten-tickles
Jaxon: That’s…actually pretty good
Me: Wow. High praise
Jaxon: Don’t let it go to your head
Me: Believe me, I won’t
Me: Triple eye roll emoji
Jaxon: What do you get when you cross a vampire and a snowman?
What? A joke? From the perennially serious Jaxon Vega? I can’t answer back fast enough.
Me: I have no idea.
Jaxon: Frostbite
I laugh out loud, because who is this Jaxon? And how do I keep him around?
Me: Halloween and Alaska all rolled into one, huh?
Me: Color me impressed
There’s another long pause, but this time something tells me not to give up on Jaxon quite yet. That he isn’t not
texting because he’s put down his phone but because he’s trying to figure out what to say next. Which…can you say mind-boggling? I can barely imagine a Jaxon who doesn’t know exactly what to do and say in any situation.
Finally my phone dings again.
Jaxon: You promised to tell me about your ankle
It’s not a great segue from the fun conversation we were just having, but I go with it, because the alternative is not answering, and I don’t want to do that. At least not yet.
Me: I don’t know. I’m just waking up. My uncle must have decided I don’t have to go to class again today.
Jaxon: I’d say lucky you, but…
Me: What, falling out of a tree not lucky enough for you?
Jaxon: Do you KNOW what lucky means?
The laugh hits me so unexpectedly that I nearly snort. Then slap a hand over my mouth in horrified amusement, even though there’s no one around to hear.
Me: I walked away, didn’t I?
Jaxon: eye roll emoji
Jaxon: Pretty sure I carried you away Me: Oh. Right. Thanks again for that. Jaxon: All the eye roll emojis
Now that he’s got me thinking about it, I’m curious how my ankle is, too. So I throw back the covers and try to climb out of bed—only to whimper the second I put any weight on my right foot. Well, that answers that. With the added problem that I really have to pee.
Jaxon: What are you going to do today?
Me: I think I’ll lie in bed and feel sorry for myself
Jaxon: Good times
Me: Yeah, well, turns out the ankle hurts a little bit
Jaxon: You ok? Me: Of course Me: brb
I use the promise of Advil to propel myself across the room to the bathroom. When I’m done, I wash my hands and grab two of the little round pills and a bottle of water before hobbling back to my bed. I force myself to take the pills before I pick my phone back up again, but it’s hard. I’m dying to know if Jaxon texted me back.
He didn’t. Which is cool, I tell myself. I mean. I’m the one who cut our conversation off so abruptly.
Me: I’m back No answer.
Me: Sorry that took so long. Still no answer.
Ugh. I blew it.
I’m pissed at myself for stopping our conversation. And just as angry for being pissed off. Jaxon showed me more of himself in the last fifteen minutes than he has since I got here. What do I have to be annoyed about that he stopped texting?
Absolutely nothing. I mean, the boy does have to go to class, after all.
Somehow, telling myself that only makes everything worse. Well, that and the fact that I’m starving, and the peanut butter is all the way across the room. Of course.
I lie back against my pillows and fire off a couple of messages to Heather. Then I check Snapchat and Instagram and even play a couple of rounds of Pac-Man—all while
telling myself that I’m absolutely, positively not waiting for Jaxon to text again.
But eventually my stomach starts growling, and I toss my phone aside. A girl can’t live on peanut butter alone, even if right now I’m hungry enough to give it a try.
I start to hobble toward the fridge but get distracted halfway there by a knock on my door. For a second, just a second, I wonder if it might be Jaxon. Then common sense kicks in. It’s probably Uncle Finn coming to check on me and my bum ankle.
Except when I answer the door, it’s not Uncle Finn. And it’s not Jaxon, either. Instead, it’s a woman carrying a heavily loaded food tray.
“Grace?” she asks as I step aside to let her in.
“Yes.” I smile at her. “Thank you so much. I’m starving.”
“Anytime.” She grins back. “Where do you want me to put it?”
“I can take it.” I reach for the tray, but she shoots me a look that says to give her a break. “Um, the bed is fine, I guess.” I gesture toward my side of the room.
She crosses to my bed and puts the tray down toward the foot of it. Then asks, “Is there anything else I can get you?”
I have no idea, considering the food is under two of those silver dome things to keep it warm. But since I’m hungry enough to eat almost anything—and I’m not in the habit of having anyone wait on me—I answer, “No, this is perfect. Thank you.”
Trust Macy to think of me even when she’s in class. My cousin is a goddess.
Except, as I settle back onto the bed, I realize there’s a
small black envelope on the tray. One that has my name written on the front in a masculine scrawl that definitely isn’t Macy’s.
Uncle Finn, I tell myself, even as my heart beats triple
time.
Because it can’t be Jaxon, I figure as I reach for the envelope with trembling fingers.
Can’t be Jaxon, I think again as I slide out the simple black card.
Definitely can’t be Jaxon, I tell myself one more time as I open up the card and search for a signature.
Except…except it is from Jaxon, and my heart is actually threatening to burst out of my chest.
I don’t know what you like yet, but I figured you were hungry. Stay off that ankle.
Jaxon
Oh my God. OmigodOmigodOmigod. Oh. My. God.
I mean, it’s not the most romantic note in the world, but
that doesn’t even matter. Because Jaxon sent me breakfast.
That’s why he didn’t text me back. He was busy doing this.
I grab my phone and fire off a quick text to him.
Me: Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!! You really are a lifesaver
He doesn’t answer right away, so I start poking around the tray, seeing what he had the cafeteria bring me. The answer is everything.
There’s a cup of coffee and another one of tea. A bottle of sparkling water and a glass of orange juice. There’s even an ice pack for my ankle.
I lift up the domes to find one plate loaded with eggs and sausage and a giant cinnamon roll that smells amazing. The other has a Belgian waffle on it, topped with strawberry compote and what looks to be freshly whipped cream…in the middle of Alaska. In November.
I’m so touched, I think I might cry. Or I would if I wasn’t so hungry.
Still, there’s no way I can eat all this, and I should feel bad about wasting the food. But right now, I’m too busy smiling to worry about anything else.
My stomach growls again, louder this time, and I dig in, starting with the waffle. Because whipped cream plus syrup plus strawberries equals nirvana.
I’m halfway through the whipped cream covered deliciousness when my phone finally dings again—and I nearly upend the whole tray trying to get to it.
Jaxon: Sorry, taking a test
Jaxon: Waffles or eggs? Me: Waffles all the way Jaxon: I figured
Jaxon: Use the ice pack
Me: Wow. Bossy much?
Me: I am using it. I can take care of myself, you know
Jaxon: Now who’s being bossy?
I’m not sure if I should be offended or not by that latest crack. I probably should be, but a waffle this good gives the guy a little extra leeway. Plus, I maybe, possibly deserved it.
