I was two blocks away from my house before I began to wonder how long this drive had to last. The shock of the entire night had started to wear off, and I was left with the memory of how I had been so mean to Jackson. I’d told him I owed him nothing. He had just been trying to protect someone’s privacy. An apology was in order.

I found myself driving to Norman’s because a good apology is always accompanied by a bribe. It wasn’t until I was waiting for my drink that I realized I had no idea where Jackson lived.

I pulled out my phone. I didn’t have his number. How had we never exchanged numbers? Oh, that’s right. I spent weeks being annoyed by him.

Hadn’t Amelia claimed that the internet knew all? What did I have to lose? I typed in a quick message. Hey, does anyone know where Jackson Holt lives? Private message me his address.

By the time I’d ordered the cider, I’d already gotten three DMs. It didn’t even disturb me that they were all from girls. Okay, it kind of did.

I collected his drink and left.

Even though the radio in my brother’s truck looked newer than the truck itself, it was still older than dirt. When I powered it on, it only let out a static buzzing. Several black buttons jutted out from the bottom. I pressed each one and the red line in front of the numbers moved, but still the radio emitted nothing but static. It had a tape deck as well. I wondered if that worked. Not that I had tapes. And of course there was no way to plug in my phone. If ever there was a time I’d needed music to block out my thoughts, it was now. I didn’t just have to worry about how tonight might end but also how driving to Jackson’s house, uninvited, might too. I went anyway. It was a night of facing fears, after all.

It wasn’t very cold out, but I stood on his porch, clutching his drink, shivering. My teeth clattered together and everything. I felt like I did after a tough swim day, standing outside the pool, still dripping wet. I hated being vulnerable, putting myself out there. I hated looking stupid, feeling stupid. I didn’t want to do this. But I had to. I would.

I took a deep breath, put my game face on, and knocked.

A woman opened the door and gave me a tentative smile.

“Is Jackson here?” I asked.

She flipped her wrist to check her watch. It was only a little after nine on a Friday night. Was she going to turn me away? “I think he might be asleep,” she said.