Jason's POV
It was Thursday afternoon. Cat and I (I had finally gotten used to calling her Cat) had finished discussing market forces of demand and supply. We were slowly making our way down an impressive list she'd organized, and even though my brain was pretty much fried, I kinda liked this stuff. I just hoped it stayed where it was supposed to stay. Deep inside my brain for when I needed it later.
The nagging headache I had woken up with was still hanging around, but whatever. I'd learned to deal with way more than a stupid headache in the past year, and it was totally worth the pain, just so I could be here and watch Cat.
Something about this girl intrigued me. Was it her smile? The way her eyes got really dark when she was concentrating and that little frown appeared between her brows? Was it the way she chewed on the end of her pencil (like now) when she was thinking?
Was it the fact that she had punched Troy Lewis in the throat and threatened to kick him in the gonads?
Or was it the fact that there was a piece of her hidden away? I'd felt it Monday night, and I felt it now. It was in everything that she wasn't saying, and everything that she wasn't saying filled the silence with mysterious pieces of her. It was those little pieces that I wanted to explore. It was those little pieces that made her different from any other girl I had ever met.
We'd been studying all week and had fallen into a routine. I showed up at her place just before noon, and we'd head to the library to study. If she wasn't meeting Anabeth at the pool afterwards, I would drive her home around five.
We hadn't talked about anything other than Economics. I hadn't brought up the drive-in, and she hadn't said a word either. Not even when she returned my sweater, smelling all fresh and full of Sunlight detergent.
But something was up today. She was distracted, and I had caught glimpses of that sad look in her eyes.
My cell pinged ad I reached for it, grimacing when I saw that it was Lauren. For, like, the tenth time. She wanted to hang out later, but I...
I glanced over my laptop at Cat. She was gnawing on the end of her pencil again, tapping her fingers along the top of the table.
"Something up?" I asked.
Her head whipped up, and she studied me for a few seconds before shaking her head. "No."
"You sure?"
A nod
"Yep."
Huh. She wasn't making this easy for me. I don't want to sound like an arrogant dick or anything, but yeah, this is totally gonna make me sound like an arrogant dick. I'm not used to having to work to make a girl like me. It's just always been easy. Mum said that when I put my mind to it, I can charm the pants off anyone. Said I had been doing it since I was born and dad had to practically wrestle me from a couple of enamoured nurses. Something about my rosebud mouth.
Apparently, Catherine Moss hadn't gotten that particular memo.
"What are you doing tonight?" I asked, watching her closely.
Cat's eyes were dark again. She cleared her throat, which was a delaying tactic, one I'd learned she used a lot when she was trying to figure out what to say. Or more importantly, what not to say.
"I have a dinner to attend."
"A dinner."
Her eyebrows shot up.
"Yes."
"Sounds exciting."
"It usually is."
"What do you guys do?" I was picturing chocolate fountains and a lot of British accents.
"We eat and socialize and talk mostly."
"About what?"
"The weather."
Wow. She really was in a mood.
"That makes exciting seem lame," I teased.
"It's not a joke, Jason. It used to be a lot of fun."
"Used to," I repeated slowly, "So what changed?"
There went the pencil again. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. She shrugged. "I guess I did." The tapping stopped. "Why are you asking me all these questions?"
I leaned back in my chair, happy that we were engaged on some other level other than demand and supply.
"Why are you in such a bad mood?"
She tossed the pencil. "I'm not."
"You're full of crap."
She leaned forward, elbows on the table, and for a second, my gaze dropped. How could it not? She was wearing this pale yellow blouse, and the top buttons had come undone. I could be a nice guy and tell her about it, but right now, I was as far from being a nice guy as the snow was from Nigeria.
Catherine Moss had cleavage and-I grinned-was wearing a matching yellow bra.
"What are you doing tonight?" She asked, oblivious to the fact that the more she leaned towards me, the more of that creamy, smooth skin was exposed. I noticed little sunflowers decorating the bra straps.
"I don't know. That depends."
This here. This was flirting at its best. The kind of flirting that a guy enjoyed, mostly because it was kind of like foreplay. There was something between Cat and me, and man, I wanted to explore it. Considering I hadn't been interested in any girl since the accident and my break up with London, that was saying something. For the longest time, I had been afraid of rejection. I mean, what kind of girl wants to date a guy whose marbles aren't always intact.
"On what?" she asked, a little out of breath now.
"On you."
I could tell she was surprised. "Me?"
"Yeah. You."
Mrs. Walker shushed us, so I leaned closer and lowered my voice. "Let's do something tonight."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
Cat glanced over to Mrs. Walker, who was looking at us like we'd committed some kind of crime or something. When Cat's gaze swung back to me, I felt like I'd been hit with something. It made me stop for a bit and think. Was this just a physical reaction to a pretty girl? Or something more?
"I already told you I have a diner to attend."
I had to blink because suddenly Cat was out of focus. Her big blue eyes wavered a bit, and my stomach rolled. Okay. I could deal with this. Sometimes my vision got a little wonky. It doesn't happen that often, but the headache that had followed me all day should have been warning enough.
I was an ace at acting as if everything was good. I took a moment. Shit. My stomach didn't feel so hot. I took another moment.
"So I'll come," I finally managed to say.
"With me?"
I waited as the wave of nausea finally rolled away and then breathed out nice and slow, toying with my laptop case as a distraction.
"Yeah, I'll come with you."
"You won't like it."
Okay, I was starting to get annoyed. That, coupled with the fact that all of a sudden, my head felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside out, made my voice a little sharp, but shit, what was her problem anyway?
"How do you know what I like?"
Heat surged through me, and I had a weird moment when I felt as if I was standing outside my body. My mouth was dry, and I reached for the water bottle on the table beside my laptop.
Except my hand didn't do what I wanted it to do. I stared at the water bottle, trying to figure out why I couldn't get to it. I'm not really sure how long I did that, but suddenly I felt Cat's hand on my arm.
She was talking to me but it sounded like she was talking from far away, like when you're in the city and just getting off the subway at night. If you shout, the walls made it seem as if your words could fly anywhere.
I tried to tell her that I felt like shit. I tried to grab the water bottle. I tried to tell her that I would go to her stupid fancy dinner because, for most of our study session, all I'd thought about was getting her alone. Which was kind of defeated by the whole posh and fancy dinner thing, but a guy would take what he could get.
But none of those words came out. My mouth was still dry, and my vision was really starting to freak me the hell out.
She leaned in real close, and I could smell that light summery scent that was all Cat. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't understand what she was saying, and I banged my knee against the table. Once. Twice. And as my anger increased, a third time.
God, I was hot.
I was hot and pissed and scared.
What the hell was happening to me? My skin felt too small for my body, and my brain felt like it was going to explode. Saliva was pooling in my mouth which (A) was gross, and (B) freaked me out more than the vision thing.
Mrs. Walker was in my face now, the bottle of water I wanted in her wrinkled hands. She offered it to me. I saw the bottle floating in the air like an astronaut, just drifting in front of my eyes. Why couldn't I grab it?
Then I was fading. Going away to somewhere dark, and the last thing I remember thinking was that Cat was going to see something I was pretty sure would be the most uncool thing ever. And that maybe I was dying.
And that totally sucked.