He's a bad boy.
She's a nerd.
She's Mikayla Winter.
He's Jacob Burke.
They used to be the best of friends.
What happens when he needs a tutor?
And she's his only hope?
Can she find something she thought she already found?
And something he thought he...
a/n: •based off the title you know this chapter focuses on prom. but I don't think prom usually happens the week before they graduate -- but let's pretend it does because I completely forgot about the event __
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~Mikayla's pov~
The day after my birthday, I woke with Jacob still laying beside me, his face stuffed into my shoulder and that instantly made me smile. I stayed there, not wanting to wake Jacob up because if I moved the slightest he'd stir. He could be having a good dream and I didn't want to be the person who interrupts them from it and then they can't go back to it because it was a dream. I know I hate it when that happens.
It must've been a hour before Jacob's phone rang and he finally opened his eyes.
"Morning," he greeted in a groggy voice but a smile adorned his face nonetheless.
"Good morning." I returned the smile.
He turned over because his phone was dropped and forgotten on the floor last night.
"Yeah?" he answered. He sighed deeply and rubbed at his temples. "Dad, I'm still at Mikayla's house . . . I know! I didn't mean to spend the night, we just fell asleep." His dad talked to him in the phone for another minute and Jacob replied with, "Okay," and before he could say anything else, his dad had cut the call off.
Jacob turned back over before stuffing his face into a pillow and grumbling things about his dad that I couldn't understand. 'Maybe you weren't meant to,' my subconscious said, snidely.
I don't like seeing Jacob upset and I bet nobody would because he is usually so full of life and joyous and can sometimes be quite ridiculous. I got on my knees so I was in a crawling position on the bed and swung one leg, which happened to be my good leg, so I was sitting on Jacob's stomach.
At the movement, he pulled away from the pillow to see what was the sudden weight that had been put on him. Smiling when he saw it was me, he grabbed my hands and laced our fingers on both hands.
Then turning from a smile to a serious expression, I asked, "What'd he say?"
"That my mom was worried about me last night. Not him. Not him and my mom. Just my mom. Sometimes I think he's ashamed of me," Jacob mumbled under his breath, refusing to make eye contact with me.
I smiled reassuringly down at him. "He shouldn't be if he is. You're the most amazing, fun, and best person I know. And cute . . . " I teased.
He sat up so I was now on his lap. "I'm justcute?"
I nodded. "Yeah, cute." I laughed when he made a face at the word 'cute'. "But he's not ashamed of you," I said and then in a much lower voice, "Trust me." It slipped, I hadn't meant to actually say it.
