Moment of Truth - Kasie West Page 0,60
my drink that I realized I had no idea where Jackson lived.
I pulled out my phone. I didn’t have his number. How had we never exchanged numbers? Oh, that’s right. I spent weeks being annoyed by him.
Hadn’t Amelia claimed that the internet knew all? What did I have to lose? I typed in a quick message. Hey, does anyone know where Jackson Holt lives? Private message me his address.
By the time I’d ordered the cider, I’d already gotten three DMs. It didn’t even disturb me that they were all from girls. Okay, it kind of did.
I collected his drink and left.
Even though the radio in my brother’s truck looked newer than the truck itself, it was still older than dirt. When I powered it on, it only let out a static buzzing. Several black buttons jutted out from the bottom. I pressed each one and the red line in front of the numbers moved, but still the radio emitted nothing but static. It had a tape deck as well. I wondered if that worked. Not that I had tapes. And of course there was no way to plug in my phone. If ever there was a time I’d needed music to block out my thoughts, it was now. I didn’t just have to worry about how tonight might end but also how driving to Jackson’s house, uninvited, might too. I went anyway. It was a night of facing fears, after all.
It wasn’t very cold out, but I stood on his porch, clutching his drink, shivering. My teeth clattered together and everything. I felt like I did after a tough swim day, standing outside the pool, still dripping wet. I hated being vulnerable, putting myself out there. I hated looking stupid, feeling stupid. I didn’t want to do this. But I had to. I would.
I took a deep breath, put my game face on, and knocked.
A woman opened the door and gave me a tentative smile.
“Is Jackson here?” I asked.
She flipped her wrist to check her watch. It was only a little after nine on a Friday night. Was she going to turn me away? “I think he might be asleep,” she said.
Disappointment settled onto my chest. I wasn’t sure if my face changed with the feeling or not, but she said, “Let me go check.” She closed the door halfway, then left.
A couple minutes later the door squeaked open again and Jackson stood there in some too-small sweats and a T-shirt. I gave him my confident look: shoulders back, sure smile on my face. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up, and a guarded smile came onto his face. “Moore. You’re here.” He glanced over my shoulder and saw the truck parked against the curb in front of his house and his smile widened. “You did it.”
“Barely.” I thrust the drink forward. “This is for you. An I-was-a-jerk-again bribe. I’m sorry for what I said in the parking lot.”
He shrugged. “You’ve labeled me as a slacker, and you’re sticking by it. I appreciate the consistency.”
He wasn’t going to accept my apology or the drink I was still holding out. “At least take this. You know I can’t drink it. It’s disgusting.”
He laughed and took the drink.
“Thank you.” I turned and walked away.
“Moore?”
I stopped but didn’t turn.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you want me to come?”
I put my head down, letting that confident front drop for a moment as utter relief poured through my body. At least he couldn’t see my face.
“Is that a no?” he asked.
“Yes—no—I mean, please. I want you to come.”
“Let me grab some shoes. I’ll meet you out there.”
Just seconds after I climbed into the cab, he did too, holding a pair of Converse in one hand and his drink in the other. He almost sat on the box my mom had placed inside weeks ago but slid it over to the middle just in time.
“You know I only agreed so I could sit in this truck, right?”
Right. I had forgotten about his love of this truck.
“A joke. After all this time and you constantly reminding me that I joke about everything, you don’t get my joke?”
I choked out a weird sputtering laugh.
“Are you freaking out?” He studied me closer, then cussed. “You’re freaking out.”
“No. I’m fine.”
He let out a single laugh. “Fine, huh? Okay, take a deep breath.” He dropped his shoes on the floor and his hand went to my neck, where he began to massage. “Just breathe.” He turned