Fever

It was dark when I slipped through the front door with a giant smile on my face, even though I spent the past hour in detention staring at my math textbook. The hallway was dark, but the television’s light illuminated the doorway into the living room where my father was fast asleep in his favourite recliner. I paused for a moment to smile at his blank face and slight snore, and moved on towards my room. I felt slightly dazed as I ran my fingers along the drywall, that silly smile still on my face. As much as I wanted to get a hold of myself, I liked the way Jacob made me feel. He made me feel carefree, and almost like I was someone else entirely.

“There you are!” my mother shrieked from the kitchen.

I froze in my steps; the smile fading for pursed lips. I forgot to tell her that I was going to be late.

“Oh, sorry. I-’

“I know where you were! I had to call your school in a panic to find out where you were!”

I turned slightly to face my mother, whose face was wide and angry, and she looked ready to ground me and forbid me to even go to school. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was gaping as she tried to search for words to fill in her anger. But I surprised even myself by not caring as much as I should have.

“First detention, then you skipped your third block today!”

“Wait,” I stopped her from continuing her rant, “I didn’t skip, I was just late. I got the wrong binder, and I had to go back to my locker. I missed the bell, that’s all.”

“That’s not what the secretary said!”

“Mom, are you snooping around at my school?” I asked.

My question seemed to have pulled her resolve into the ground, and all of the anger on her face seemed to evaporate, replaced with shame and embarrassment. She adverted her eyes to her hands where she held a damp dishtowel, and like a child, grappled for words to excuse herself.

“Ms. Jefferson and I go way back. I’ve known her since she was a child,” my mother said, “she initially thought I wanted this information. But good she told me, otherwise I would have gone out searching for you myself!”

“Why?” I laughed lightly. “I’m old enough to take care of myself. If I want to stay late at school then let me. If I want to go to Port Angeles for a movie, I shouldn’t have to ask for your approval. I’m not a child, Mom.”

She paused, thinking, “Yes, well, it just worries me when I don’t know where you are.”

“But you knew, and Dad probably knew, and you had to freak out.”

“I wouldn’t call it a ‘freak out’.”

The smile returned to my face, “Mom, it was a freak out.”

“Oh, well, I apologise.”

She forced an awkward smile, and then returned back to the kitchen. My smile got a bit bigger, and I let out a soft chuckle before I continued towards my room. From my earliest memory, I had never experienced a scolding quite like that one. My stomach felt full of bubbles, and I let out a few quiet giggles before I dropped face-first into my throw pillows. If I had known Jacob was going to be such a favourable influence on me, I would have sought him out earlier. I was walking on air around him. He made me feel free. I held back another surge of childish giggles and muffled them with my pillow, my mind wandering back to my time with Jacob.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on Jasmine,” Jacob caught me off guard, and I stopped wringing out my hair. “Green isn’t your colour.”

I had to mirror his grin, my muscles moving on their own accord, “I’m not jealous.”

“So you say,” he chuckled, running his fingers over his wet hair, making my heart lurch in my chest.

“I am just upset that she cares more about him than me,” I said softly.

Jacob laughed, “That’s not it at all. She just likes the guy.”

“Then how come I don’t matter anymore?”

“You don’t matter?” he asked, brows raised. “That’s impossible.”

I blushed and sucked in my lips, trying to stop my body from acting like a lovesick schoolgirl. He reached over and pushed my wet hair out of my face, his hand radiating warmth across my damp, chilled skin. I resisted the urge to lean into his hand, and just stood there, trying to contain the butterflies that were rustling around in my torso.

“I think you just need to get over the fact that you’re going to have to share Jasmine,” I moved my lips, ready to interject, but he pressed on, covering up my interruption. “And you need to remind Jasmine that she has to be shared. You’re just blowing this way out of proportion.”

“What happens when she spends weekends with him. What am I supposed to do?”

Jacob’s fingers lingered on my cheek, and from the intensity of his eyes, I knew what he was meant. A shy smile slid across my lips, and as much as I wanted to divert my eyes from his, I couldn’t. They were locked onto his gaze, and I felt my body gravitating towards him. A sensation drifted over me, not quite immobility, but I felt that this might beit. My lips tingled, and unconsciously, I puckered them ever so slightly. I don’t know if he noticed, but I knew it then that he was going to kiss me.

I had prepared myself with daydreams and fantasies of this moment. With the rain pouring around us, the two of us hiding out beneath a clump of trees after returning from a wild motorcycle ride, thishad to be it. It was better than the rest of my ideas had ever been. I had watched enough romance movies to know how a first kiss was supposed to happen, and this was it. I held my breath, waiting for him to step in closer. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest, and my stomach was tying itself into knots. I wanted this more than I knew, and just when I gathered up the courage to lean forward, the school bell drifted into my ears and set off a familiar feeling that dragged me out from my romance novel.

“I’m late,crap.”

He dropped his hand, tucking it into the front pocket of his jeans, “Better hurry off, then.”

I turned, ready to run, but found myself turning back towards Jacob. He was standing there; looking so perfect, pulling on my heartstrings with each moment I stared in awe.

“On Saturday, do you-“

“I’d love to,” he cut me off quickly.

I smiled in return, “I’ll call you?”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

I groaned inwardly at the memory. Our moment, the moment, had been ruined. Maybe he didn’t want to move too quickly? Or maybe he didn’t want to kiss me? I swatted that notion away. Of course he wanted to kiss me. He wouldn’t look at me the way he does, or brush my hair away, or hold my hand if he didn’t like me. Another grin tore across my face, and I pressed the pillow tightly to my mouth once again.

With my free hand, I reached over and grabbed the phone off my side table and dialled one of the only numbers I knew my heart. I listened to it ring four times, biting my lips excitedly, before the line picked up.

“Hi, is Jasmine there?”