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I didn't realize where I was going until I nearly crashed into the door of Blackie's. Something that might have shocked me even more is that Jake was there... with a coffee—not surprising—and a book. My night was just getting better and better. I would have turned away and gone somewhere else, but Isabel's house was too far away to walk, it was about -10 out, and I actually couldn't force myself leave. He drew me in, like a hummingbird to a flower. The bell dinged when I opened the door but Jake didn't even look up.
"Hawthorne," he said to me as I sat down across from him with a mug of hot coffee a few minutes later. He still hadn't looked up at me, but instead, was scribbling down notes for one of his classes.
I would have called him by his last name, like he did to me, but he made me too nervous, and I didn't think I could say "Roswell," without my voice shaking. So I just said, "Jake," in a cool and calm voice. One syllable was easier than two.
"What are you doing up at such a late hour?" he asked me, before turning the page in his book and picking up a highlighter.
"I could ask you the same thing." I took a sip of coffee.
He looked up at me, about to say something, then stopped. "What happened to your face?" Jake asked me, leaning forwards.
"Nothing," I replied before he had even finished his question.
"What do you mean, 'nothing?' You have part of a handprint on your cheek." Jake seemed very upset about this as he pointed out the obvious.
"Don't worry about it." I told him, as his fingers lightly skimmed across my cheek. I tried not to flinch.
"Katie..." he pressed.
"Jake..." I responded in the same manner.
"Who did this?" he asked, still touching my face.
"I don't know." I gave him a partial truth. Jake's mouth formed into a hard line as he sat back in his chair. "I'm fine. So back to you original question, before you so rudely changed the topic on me," I said to Jake.
"Kinda like you're doing now..." he crossed his arms. I dismissed him and continued.
"Why are you up so late in Blackie's?" I asked him.
"Homework, duh." He gave me a look as if to say, what does it look like?
"Homework? At 2:45am?" My eyebrows furrowed together.
"Yeah, what about it?" Jake asked me.
"Nothing, just most people I know are sleeping at this hour," I said to him.
"I could say the same for you." Jake finally looked up at me and I couldn't help but smile slightly. "So, care to share why you're here right now?" He twirled the highlighter between his fingers.
"We're not having story time tonight," I said to him, running my finger around the rim of my faded green mug.
"Fine, don't share all your secrets with me." Jake pouted before highlighting a few sentences.
"Like you would share all of yours," I laughed a little.
"Nah, my secrets aren't very good," Jake said and I saw him frown, almost like a little kid. I felt my eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but didn't press the matter. "Well, are you gonna watch me do my homework all night or are you gonna do yours?" Jake asked me with a smirk.
Wordlessly, I reached into my backpack, and pulled out my Calc homework. I knew it would near impossible to get any homework done with Jake sitting directly across from me, but I was going to try... for all that it was worth. Pencil. Paper. Eraser. Calculator. I flipped my book open, page 324 to be exact, and wrote down the assignment in the top right hand corner, like I did with every class.
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YOU ARE READING
Confessions of a Teenage Caffeine Addict
Teen Fiction"No amount of coffee could keep me awake like you do." Jake is the hockey player with the hot girlfriend. Katie is the girl with a name no one remembers. Jake is used to getting what he wants. Katie is used to getting coffee for her hungover moth...
21 // Handprints, Homework, & Home
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