Chapter 8

                                    

                                          

After detention, Ty and Porter were waiting in the parking lot for me. "Thanks for staying a little longer," I told them.
"The mathlete here was late anyway," Ty said. 
"We got first place, if you were wondering."
I gave him a small smile. "Good job."
"Yeah, because knowing logarithms and advanced calculus will get you laid," Ty commented as we all piled into the car. 
Porter laughed. "It will when I'm super rich and living in a big mansion somewhere in New York or far, far away." 
"Why far away?" Ty asked. 
"To escape his mother," I said before Porter could answer. 
"Exactly."
Ty gave me a light punch on the shoulder. "So, how was detention, you badass? I can't believe you skipped class!"
I shot him a disapproving look. "Yeah, I wonder why I skipped class. Maybe because some smooth talking jock convinced me?"
"I wouldn't have succumbed to the peer pressure," Porter stated proudly. "Sometimes you just have to say no."
 "Did someone order an inspirational speaker today?" Ty joked. 
Porter, being the most reasonable of the three of us, decided to ignore Ty's sarcastic comments and instead of replying turned the radio up. I sat back in my seat, satisfied with the pop song that began to pour out of the speakers. We were almost to my house when Ty mentioned something about staying for dinner.
"Yeah—" I stopped mid sentence when I recognized the sleek black car parked in my driveway. Ty pulled up to the side of the road but didn't stop the engine, as if he knew who was waiting in my driveway as well. 
"I can come back later. I should probably drop Porter off anyway," he said quietly. 
Unable to answer, I simply nodded my head and opened the car door. After taking in a deep breath of air I slung my backpack over my shoulder and started toward the car. The door to the driver's side swung open as I approached, Jack stepping out onto the driveway seconds after. My heart did that flippy thing it did every time I saw him and I shoved my hands in my pockets as a nervous feeling swept over me. 
"Hey, Danny," Jack said, a small smile spreading across his face.
What in the world was he doing here?
"Jack," I said, unable to find any other words. 
"You look really good," he told me. 
I looked down at my ripped skinny jeans, converse and plain gray v-neck. "Thanks?"
It was more of a question because I knew for a fact that my hair was a mess because I hadn't had time to brush it and my outfit was basic at most. And since I hadn't had time to even brush my hair this morning I definitely didn't have time to put on any makeup. 
"Can we talk?" he asked, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. 
"Yeah, of course," I replied a bit too hastily. "Let's go inside."
"No—" he said, holding out his hand to stop me. "I mean, it's nice out so I thought we could just talk here. I just, I heard something about you the other day and I wanted to know, I just wanted to know..."
"Know what?"
"Are you sleeping with Sawyer Armstrong?"
After the words left his mouth I felt an odd sense of relief which quickly morphed into anger. Jack was worried about me. Or jealous. Either way, it meant he was thinking about me. Either way, it meant he still cared. On the other hand, it was none of his business who I was sleeping with, since it was obviously no longer him.