My blood approves

Neither my mother nor Milo said very much about Jack, which I found rather odd. Jane had been exploding with the urge to prattle on about him since the moment she saw him, but she did have much less self-control than most people.

And in Milo’s case, he was probably trying to keep his feelings about Jack’s visit under wraps. I had gotten home very late from hanging out with Jack, as per usual. After the arcade had closed, we had loitered at a Blockbuster, before deciding that neither of us wanted to rent anything, then drove around for awhile before finally dropping me at home. Mom was gone at work, and Milo had gone to bed, so there was nothing to be said then.

When I finally roused the next day, I immediately went to talk to Milo about Jack. I hadn’t expected him to expound very much, but his very clipped, “He seems nice” did not do the night justice. I wanted to inquire further, but I bit my tongue. The fact that Milo was apparently hiding something so important from me made me feel uncomfortable, and I didn’t really know how to proceed with conversation. A part of me wanted to just bring it out in the open and demand that he tell me, but it was his thing and he had to come to terms with it on his own time, no matter how anxious it made me.

Because of my feelings of unease, I decided to camp out in bed all day, reading and listening to Death Cab for Cutie. When Mom got up, I went out to get a soda and find out her thoughts on Jack, but disappointingly, they just mirrored Milo’s sentiments. It wasn’t that I wanted her to go on and gush about Jack until I threw up, but their hesitance to even say anything real about him disturbed me. I knew that they’d probably been embarrassed about the way they had salivated over him last night and were going through a Jack-hang over of sorts, but still.

Once she confirmed that it was perfectly acceptable for me to continue seeing Jack, I gave up on it. At least she liked him, and I could do what I wanted.

Then I went back into my room to try and figure out why it was so important to me that I kept seeing him. I hadn’t fallen under his spell the same way most people did, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t under one. As he had pointed out, I was attracted to him, otherwise I wouldn’t be there. I just wasn’t attracted to him in the normal sense.

I sprawled out in bed and wondered if it was something like that bad Love Potion No. 9 movie with Sandra Bullock. They drank this potion, and suddenly, everybody wanted them. Maybe Jack had done that too. In some kind of weird government experiment. But we lived in Minnesota. Why would the government experiment here? Were there even like CIA or FBI headquarters here? That would be a really stupid test anyway. What would the practical applications of such a potion be? And does anyone really make potions anymore?

Eventually, I gave up on it and went back to reading my book. That managed to kill an entire afternoon, but I grew tired of laying in bed. I went out to the kitchen to reheat some of Milo’s lasagna and watch TV. Milo sat on the computer the entire time and barely said a word to me. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me for ditching him last night, or just going through his own conflicted deal about his sexuality. Either way, I didn’t push him on it, so I ate quickly, and then spent the rest of the night in my room. I went to bed that night, feeling a little surprised that Jack hadn’t talked to me at all.

Since it was my last day of Spring Break, I decided to make the most of it by sleeping the entire day away. I knew that it would only make it harder when I tried to go to bed at a decent time or get up for school the next morning, but I didn’t care. When I finally rolled out of bed, I showered and got ready for the day. I still felt like avoiding Milo, so I text messaged Jack. Besides, it was my last day, so I had to get out and do something.

What are you up to today? I was sitting on my bedroom floor, painting my toenails dark blue, because I theorized that it would take Jack a long time to answer, even though it never did. It just seemed completely unfathomable to me that he didn’t have anything better to do then text me. Or hang out with me, for that matter.

Just woke up. He texted me back promptly, as I should’ve known he would.

Sorry. Did I wake you? It was after six o’clock, but from what little time I’d spent with Jack, I had a feeling he never went to bed before dawn, so it didn’t surprise me that he’d still be sleeping.

Kinda. But its ok. I needed to get up anyway.

So, did you want to do something today? Fanning my freshly painted nails so they’d dry, I stared at my phone expectantly. I loved texting because it made it so much easier to talk to people. I would have had to spend hours building up the courage to call Jack, but I hated how long it took to get a response.

Yeah. When?