It's My Life - Stacie Ramey Page 0,66
someone.”
This feels like an opening, a chance to tell him I’m the one who’s been texting him. But this moment is so perfect and fun, I don’t want to ruin it. And there’s also this fear brewing inside me. What if he doesn’t want to be with me like that? What if he laughs? What if he looks terrified when he finds out? Disgusted?
“Would it surprise you that I’m falling for someone I’ve never met?” he asks.
“You mean like a dating app or something?”
He laughs, and man, do I love that sound. Me making him happy. “Nah. Nothing like that. When I moved back, someone started texting me. Out of the blue.”
“Well, I guess you’ve got me stumped now. And curious.”
“I think it would be hard to stump you, Jenna Cohen.”
I have the uncontrollable urge to clear my throat. Repeatedly. Like all of my feelings are stuck in there. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?” He tips his head. I respond by curling up to him more. He makes a soft sound, like he’s pulled in his breath and is holding it, and I feel like I could live an entire lifetime waiting for his breath to release. Can I measure my effect on the boy in how long it takes him to exhale? “Did you know I always wished I was as smart as you are?”
“You’re smart.”
“Not the kind of smart I’d like to be.”
I push back so he can see my face. “Well, I always wished I was coordinated. Like you are.”
“We are clichés…each wanting what the other one has. Like Daisy and Gatsby,” he says. I can’t help but smile. He does a little fist pump. “Score.”
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I am, except for one thing. My mystery woman. The thing is,” his voice sounds as tight as his body gets when he’s about to hit the ice, “she’s here.”
I pretend to look around, more bought into this game than into coming clean with Julian. Who knew I’d like to play coy? “Oh. That’s exciting, right?”
He nods. Smiles. “It is. And I have a plan for finding her.”
I blush again and put my head on his shoulder. It seems like a bold move, but the music and the sound of his voice mesmerize me. And if this is all going to end in a second, I want the seconds just before to be amazing. Perfect.
“Is this okay?” I ask.
“More than okay.” He moves his hand up higher on my back, his palm flat, but the tips of his fingers are curled into my back. When his fingers start moving in tiny circles, I get surprised and pull back.
“I’m sorry,” Julian says.
“No it’s fine, but aren’t we supposed to be looking for your mystery woman?”
Julian puts his lips by my ear. “I almost forgot.”
I pull back a little, trying to get hold of my emotions. “Tell me what you know about her, and maybe I can help you figure it out,” I say, surprising myself with how much I’m enjoying this part, too. Conspiring with Julian is fun.
“Well, she’s very smart,” he says.
“That certainly narrows down a whole bunch of the kids here.”
As I’m saying this, two of the players whip out Super Soakers and fire them at the ice sculpture.
Julian’s body tightens, like he wants to join them.
“You want to go?” I ask, flicking my gaze over my shoulder in the general direction of the little hooligans.
“Nah. Having more fun with you. Also, back to what we were talking about.”
“Right. Your mystery girl. Tell me more about her.”
“She’s funny. She’s sweet. She’s feisty.”
“Wow. She’s a lot to compete with.”
“Are you competing?” He tips his head to wait for my response.
His question takes my breath away. I want to tell him: “Hell yeah, I’m competing.” I’ve been competing with any girl who happens to enter his orbit. But that’s not the kind of thing I can force out of my windpipe and through my mouth. That’s the kind of admission that lodges in the back of my throat and stays stuck.
“I was wondering…” Julian pulls me closer, and it’s amazing to me how soft my body can stay against him. How my body stops wanting to spasm or freak out or do anything harsh or stupid. It’s a little miracle.
“What were you wondering?” I whisper.
“I was wondering if you know what position I play in hockey?”
“You know I do.”
“That’s right. You do. I’m a center. You know that.”
I inch away from him, look at his face. He’s amused,