A typical Friday for me includes a pop quiz from Professor Withers, sneers from Jordana and her posse, and lunch on the school's rooftop. For most of the week, Molly and I eat inside, but we've started to take more advantage of the beautiful weather before November hits.

"So...I gave your words of wisdom consideration, and you're right. I'm going to tell Henry how I feel about him this weekend," Molly says.

"I love to hear it. What's this weekend?"

"Well, nothing. I was thinking we could all hang or som-"

Molly stops talking and I feel a pair of lips hit my cheek. "Hi," Jack says once he's pulled away. Yes, he's wearing the same school uniform as everyone else, but there's something about the way that he wears it that just makes it look so different.

"Hi," I say, caught off-guard.

"Mind if I join you guys?"

I notice everyone's eyes on us. They're probably wondering what the most popular guy in school is doing sitting at the same table as the most unpopular girl in school. "Uh, not if you don't mind being stared at while you eat."

"Are people staring?" he asks, looking around the room. "I don't see anything," he lies, trying to make me feel better, and I give him a shy smile. He reaches for my hand and intertwines it with his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss there.

"I feel like I'm living in a Twilight Zone," Molly remarks, and I get it. I feel that way, too. Having Jack look at me the way that he is right now almost seems too good to be true.

"So, what's up? What'd I miss?" Jack asks as he reaches for his sandwich.

"We were just about to make a plan for this weekend," Molly says. "Wanna join in on the fun?"

"Sure. But only if the fun happens after my lacrosse game," Jack says, turning to look at me. "You're coming, right?"

"If you want me there," I tell him.

"You're the only person I want there," he says, and Molly clears her throat. "You too, Lawson."

"Thank you," she smiles with a nod. "I was thinking of hosting afterward at my house. If I can get my parents to oblige."

"Who knew you were the little rebel child, Lawson?"

"Relax, Carrington. This isn't like your open-houses. You know, the ones with DJs and strippers?"

"Strippers?" I repeat.

"It was one time, babe. I swear," Jack says to me.

"Anyway, as I was saying...," Molly remarks, "...it's not open to everyone. Just a few close friends."

"I think that's a great idea, Mol," I tell her.

Jordana walks our way with a tray in her hand and then stops when she notices who's sitting with us. "Jack. I need to talk to you. In private..."

"Jordana, whatever you need to say to me, you can say to Anastasia and Molly as well."

"You mean your new buddies?" she snickers. "Careful, Jack. Stoop any lower and you'll hit the floor."

"I got with you Jordana, I don't think I can go any lower than that."

"Ouch," Molly says, hiding a chuckle behind her fist.

Jordana's face right now is priceless, but I don't feel bad for her. How can anyone when she brings humiliation upon herself? And just like that, she stomps her foot and huffs, walking away.

"That girl is so in love with you, Jack."

"I don't even know how when I try everything to get her to feel the opposite."

"Maybe try not trying," I say with a smirk and he just smiles back at me, which gets me thinking...if he only ever looked at me the way that he is now, I'd never need words from him.

***

I got my dad to join me and Molly at the lacrosse game today. If I didn't, the man would be sitting on the front porch at home right now with the newspaper in one hand and a pen in the other, playing the crossword puzzle. I always beg my dad to put himself out there more and go on dates, but he promises me that he's content being alone. It's a bunch of bologna if you ask me, and I'm not buying it.

The game is scheduled to start in 20 minutes, and just as we're about to find a seat on the bleachers, I get a text from Jack telling me to come meet him by the concession stand.

"Hey!" I hear him call out as I lean against the wall of it. I don't think I can handle how good he looks. He's in his lacrosse uniform, but his sandy blonde hair is shaggier than usual and he looks like a true athlete.

"Hey," I smile. He reaches for my arms and gently pulls me into him, my hands finding their way to his waist.

"Sorry. Had to make sure I got my good luck kiss before anything." He takes a few steps back and holds an article of clothing in the air. "I wanted to give this to you before the game started."

"What's that?" I ask, and he fans it out so that I can see it better.

"It's my number. I want you to wear it." He pauses. "That is, if you want to."

"I'd love to."

He gives me a big smile and then slips it over my head. He tucks the front pieces of my light brown hair behind my ears and then kisses the top of my forehead. "I promise to make you proud out there."

"You don't have to promise me that. I know you will."

And he does.

Jack looks so good on the field that I get why he's the captain. He's confident when he huddles the team together and even more confident when it comes time to execute each play. Every single person, including my dad, is chanting his name with the true belief that he can lead this team to victory.

"Look to your right, one bleacher up," Molly says, and I take my eyes off the field to look at her. "Jack's parents. Peter and Bea Carrington."

I follow her instructions and my eyes land on them immediately. The first thought that comes to mind is that Jack is the perfect mix of his parents. He's got his mom's insane blue eyes and his dad's sculpted face shape. His dad is wearing the most casual type of fancy clothes one can wear to a high school lacrosse game – khaki pants and a light taupe polo – and his mom is wearing a white sundress with her auburn hair pulled back into a bun.

"Have you ever met them before?"

"The mom...once. She's sweet."

"And the dad?"

"I've never spoken to him. From what I hear, though, he's not the nicest guy. Apparently, he and Jack have their differences."

"Differences?" I ask, and she just nods, but doesn't explain further.

"He comes to every lacrosse game, but between you and me, it's not to support Jack. It's to remind him that he has to win."

"What do you mean?"

"I remember when Sinclair lost to our rival school. It was the championship game. We played really well, fought till the very end, but there can only be one winner and Hill Academy just played better. Jack was really mad at himself. I mean you see how he is, he carries the weight of this team on his shoulders. After the game, I saw him and his dad walk off to the side of the field. Let's just say, his dad was going off on him..."

"Like yelling at him?"

"Not yelling. Berating. I couldn't believe a father could talk to his son that way." I don't respond and instead process Molly's words. "I wonder if they know about you," she continues.

Sinclair Prep ends up winning the game, and it takes me, Molly, and my dad a few minutes to descend the bleachers with how crowded they are.

"Honey, I have to head home. I have a FreshDirect delivery scheduled and I don't want it sitting outside for too long," dad says.

"Okay."

"You staying?" Molly asks me and I look over at Jack, who's talking to a few Sinclair Prep students who are fawning over him.

"I think so. Want to keep me company?"

"Why not?" she shrugs, and I look at dad.

"I'll see you home?"

"See you home, sweetheart. Have fun."

Dad walks away and then Molly says "incoming". I have no idea what she means until I see for myself that Jack's parents are walking toward him. Bea has a pair of black rectangular sunglasses covering her eyes now.

"I love her bag. It's the new Dior," Molly remarks, but I can't focus. All I feel are my nerves.

I keep my eyes on Jack and his parents. His mom goes in to hug him, but his dad just stands there and unaffectionaly pats him on the back.

Jack's eyes peer up and he sees me standing in front of him, so he waves me over with his hand and a smile.

"Looks like you're up," Molly says to me and I give her an apprehensive look.

"I don't think I can do this."

"At the end of the day, they're people. Just like you and me."

I nod frantically, deeply inhaling and exhaling. "Okay."

"Deep breaths. You got this," Molly continues to encourage, pushing me in their direction.

I take steps toward Jack and his parents. While he and his mom are smiling at me, his dad's expression is a mix of confusion and frustration. His hands are tucked inside his pockets and everything about his demeanor is unwelcoming.

Jack reaches his hand out for me, bringing me closer to him, and then says, "Mom, dad, this is Anastasia. Anastasia, this is my mom Bea and my dad Peter."

"It's so nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Carrington," I say.

"It's so nice to meet you, too," Jack's mom says first.

"Pleasure," his dad says with a nod and only that.

"We're thinking of grabbing a bite to eat. Join us," Jack tells me.

"Oh, no. It's okay, I told my dad that I'd meet him at home."

"We won't be long! Please join us," Bea sincerely says, and Jack nudges me with his eyes as his dad stays silent.

"O-okay," I hesitantly say.