Amanda Hocking: My Blood Approves

“Are you famous or something?” I blurted out, and Jane looked embarrassed enough for both of us so I didn’t bother blushing.

“What do you mean?” He sounded confused, so I finally looked up at him.

He had sandy hair that stood up in a disarray that I’m sure he had planned. His skin was utterly flawless and beach bum tanned, and that was unnatural for people in Minnesota in March. His eyes were a weird blue-gray color, and there was something tremendously boyish about them, about him really, but otherwise, nothing seemed to stand out as overly attractive. I just didn’t get it.

“Everyone’s staring at us. At you,” I corrected myself. Jack just shrugged and looked down at the table, but didn’t bother checking to see if I was right.

Even Jane peered out behind her long eyelashes and reddened cheeks to confirm my statement, and I knew she saw it too because she blushed even deeper and put her hand possessively on Jack’s thigh.

“I’m not famous,” Jack replied quietly. He looked like he wanted to explain things more, but then the waitress appeared with three mugs and a pitcher of coffee.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” the waitress batted her eyes at Jack, who continued to ignore her.

“We’re fine, thanks,” Jane snapped. She had claimed him all for herself, and she had just noticed that everyone in the room was competition, so her claws were coming out.

“Just let me know if there’s anything at all.” The waitress reluctantly walked away, and Jane glared at her the entire time.

“Come on.” I rested my arms on the table and leaned in closer to him because I’d lowered my voice. “You had to have noticed that. You seem like a pretty observant guy.”

“I don’t have an answer for it.” He picked up the pitcher of coffee and poured a cup for himself and me, and then as an afterthought, filled Jane’s too.

“Do you take cream or sugar in yours?”

“Both.” I was perfectly capable of doing it myself, but I think Jack wanted to occupy himself somehow so I would be less likely to notice him hedging the question. He dumped a creamer and two packets of sugar in my coffee, and stirred a creamer in his, then settled back in the booth.

“I take cream and sugar too,” Jane added meekly, and Jack pushed the bowls of creamers and sugar packets toward her. Her face crumbled a bit, and she slowly added them to her coffee.

“So you’re not famous?” I refused to let it go without a direct answer.

“I can assure you that I’m not famous,” Jack smiled broadly. This one thing I would say about him; he had to have one of the greatest smiles of all time. It wasn’t particularly sexy or anything like that. It was just so natural and carefree, as if his face had been made to do only that.

“You just look so familiar to me,” I admitted, growing exasperated. As soon as I said that, I knew that wasn’t exactly it either. I could almost guarantee that I’d never seen him before, but there was something undeniably familiar about him.

“I know, right?” Jack gave me a perplexed look that I’m sure mirrored my own.

“So do I know you from somewhere?” It didn’t sound right to me, but I couldn’t think of anything else. There was this strange non-sexual intimacy with him, so I had to know him, right?

“That’s not possible,” Jack said simply, shaking his head.

“How is it not possible?” I asked incredulously. “Did you just move here or something?”

“It’s complicated.” He touched his coffee cup and made like he was going to drink it, but he never even lifted it off the table. Jane, for her part, seemed to have resigned herself to drinking her coffee and watching us talk. She finished one cup and poured herself another.

“How is it complicated?” The whole issue of whether he was from the Twin Cities seemed like a very simple yes or no question, but he was hesitant to answer it, and I couldn’t imagine why.

“It just is,” Jack replied, flashing me another one of his amazing smiles.

“How old are you?” I asked pointedly. This would have to be a simple question, even though it was one that I couldn’t really decipher. Somehow, he managed to look very young, like he was fifteen or even younger, while simultaneously looking older than me. It was something about his eyes. They were very young and very old, at the same time.

To my surprise, Jack laughed in response, and I found something even more incredible than his smile. Hands down, he had the greatest laugh in the universe. It was this completely perfect sound that I can’t even explain. When he laughed, it sounded so clear and perfect and hearty, and he laughed with everything in him. Somehow, it warmed me through and through, and I realized that I would trust him with anything.

“How old are you?” Jack countered, grinning at me.

“I asked you first.” I had finished my cup of coffee, so I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest, and for some reason, that made Jack laugh again.

“Why does that even matter?” Jack wondered aloud. “You want to know more.”

“I’m seventeen,” I sighed. Jane cast me a look, and I knew that she was hoping I would lie about my age. Most of the time, she’d tell people she was nineteen or twenty, but unfortunately, I knew I could never pass for nineteen.

Besides, I didn’t really want to lie to Jack.

“Twenty-four,” Jack replied with a wry smirk.

“Don’t you feel a little odd running around with two seventeen year old girls?” I don’t even know why I asked that. In some part of my mind, it did logically seem wrong for a twenty-four-year-old to be picking up two random teenage girls. But sitting here, in the booth with him, nothing had ever felt more natural or safe. This was where I was supposed to be.

“I’m mature for my age!” Jane suddenly spouted, but Jack didn’t even glance in her direction.

“As I recall, if I hadn’t been around, you would’ve gotten yourself killed.”

He rested his arms on the table, leaning more towards me. “What did you think you were doing anyway? Walking around in a parking garage in the middle of the night?” He trailed off, but there was genuine concern and almost a protective edge to his voice.

“We were trying to get into a club, but my feet were killing me and I just wanted to get home,” I explained. He looked at me for a minute, the serious expression looking out of place on him, and then shook his head and refilled my cup of coffee.

“Well, don’t do that again,” he said finally, and added the cream and sugar to my drink. I noticed that he had yet to touch his own cup, but I decided not to say anything. As it was, I’d probably annoyed him with my game of twenty questions.

“Yes, sir.” I saluted him, and he laughed at me, breaking the uneasy moment of gravity. His laugh was so easy and contagious that I couldn’t help but joining in.

“What club were you trying to get into?” Jack inquired.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. Honestly, I hadn’t even really been paying attention. I just let Jane drag me wherever she wanted to go, and hoped that by the end of the night, I managed to make it home in one piece. “Hey, what were you doing downtown? Clubbing it up?”

“Hardly,” Jack snorted. “I was… getting something to eat.”

“At midnight?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m kind of a night owl.” Time must’ve just occurred to him, because he glanced over at a clock hanging on the wall and exhaled deeply. “It’s getting really late. I should probably get you home.”

“I’m wide awake,” Jane chirped, but unlucky for her, I didn’t feel the same way. Even with the coffee and the adrenaline rush from earlier (or maybe because of that), I suddenly felt very tired. Admittedly, I wanted to continue hanging out with Jack (although, not for the same reasons as everyone else), but my whole body had started to ache, especially my legs and ankles.