It's My Life - Stacie Ramey Page 0,27

though Gatsby gives her a way to break out of that cage, she doesn’t do it in the end because she needs its protection. This book feels so close to my reality sometimes. That’s the thing with stories—when you can see yourself in them, it’s easier to remember the details.

Julian runs a finger over his spiral notebook, where he’s written the names of bands. Blink-182. Mumford & Sons. Red Hot Chili Peppers. Imagine Dragons. There’s something about that list that gets to me and makes me feel porous and open in the best possible way. Like he’s showing me who he is inside.

Suddenly I imagine myself as Jennifer. I’ve gone over to his house to help him, and we spent three hours going over Gatsby. I am equal parts exhausted and really happy, because he really seems to be getting it. I’m wearing a red flannel shirt. His. And super comfy jeans. My legs are stretched out, long and lean. We are the image of teenage perfection, me in my Jennifer body, him in his hot hockey player one. He reaches up and moves a piece of hair behind my ear, staring into my eyes, then searching my face. His gaze reconnects with mine. He looks happy, wearing the little smirk that he usually covers with one hand. But this time, he doesn’t cover it, and that tiny bit of intimacy makes my body light up like a candle. I let him inspect me, but then the heat of his attention gets to be too much, so I defuse it.

“I’m a mess, really. So not ready for viewing.”

He puts three fingers over my lips. “Shhh.”

His bed is so soft and the covers are so inviting and he’s so damned cute, I just want to lie back and let him follow me.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. I am perfect. I am good enough and smart enough to deserve the best. I let him kiss my neck and behind my ear. Rascal Flatts is playing in the background. I’m not a huge country music fan, but something about its lazy twang softens my resolve further, and I let Julian kiss me. My hands frame his face. He called me perfect, but he’s the one who’s perfect. He smells musty and salty, and I feel his body pressed against mine—his strong legs and his tight frame. I feel the weight of him on me, and it makes me feel so grounded and alive. So alive.

“Jenna.” Mr. Stechshulte waves his hand in my face. “You okay? You with us?”

I blink. I’m back in class. Facing forward, thank God, and not staring at Julian. Sweat dots the back of my neck. I sweep my hair back because that’s a normal girl thing to do, but really because I need to cool off.

“I’m fine.” I reach for my water bottle and almost knock it over, but Mr. Stechshulte catches it. Everything is going in slo-mo. I feel myself fading away, becoming farther and farther from this world, and I wonder if this is a start of a seizure. But then the lights snap back into focus.

Mr. Stechshulte hesitates for a fraction of a second, then nods and strides back to the front of the room. “Okay. So we decided.” He turns on the projector and focuses it on the screen at the front. “Here is the reading schedule.”

Everyone laughs, because he had obviously predicted which book we’d choose.

I grab my water bottle and take a slow drink, but then my hand releases, and I drop the water bottle, sending it spilling all over the floor.

Mrs. Wilson, who is popping in on me today to make sure I’m okay, chooses this exact moment to stop in. “Oh, Jenna.”

“It’s no big deal.” Mr. Stechshulte pushes the button on the wall. “We need a mop in room 1–153. Just water.” Then to me. “Nothing too tragic, right, Jenna?”

I nod.

“You’re all right?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I say, though I burn with embarrassment.

“Good.” He does one of those old-man, good-guy winks. “Now where were we?” Mr. S. does a motion with his hands directing the class’ attention back to him, and I breathe out.

Mrs. Wilson takes out her cell and types in some sort of text. I’m sure it’s about me. And I’m also sure it’s not something I’m going to like. “I think we better get you a wheelchair for the rest of the day, just in case.”

I seethe with anger at Mrs. Wilson, even though she’s really just doing her