Jacob sits at the computer next to me as she walks away. He casually sits and takes his time logging into the computer, like we don't have a big deadline to meet. My work depends on him and the other two, and if they take their time then it sets me back even more. Plus, even if they finish on time, I still have to go in and make sure everything is the right size, the right fonts, and more. "Hey, friend," he says. It's how he's been greeting me for the past couple days. I don't particularly like it, but I let it be. "Hey," I say as I pull up the newspaper template. "Have you finished pages four and five yet?" "I'm almost done. I just have to—" "Can you just put them on the drive and I'll work on them? You can finish page eight. I think it just needs a picture." I think he can tell I was stressing over the deadline, so he does as I ask and doesn't really talk to me for the rest of the class period. While I take on the bigger workloads, I assign Vicky and Will to smaller workloads like I did with Jacob. It will get them out of my hair, but will also help get things done faster. "Lacey, does this picture look better on this side, or this side?" Will asks me. I really don't have time to teach him which way pictures should face so I say, "Just put it however and I'll fix it if I have to." Jacob turns to me. "Someone's stressed out. Need a back rub?" If we were still dating, it would've been perfect. "Not now, Jacob." "Hey, I know we didn't get to talk about my game yesterday, so can we do that here in a bit?" he asks. Will pokes his head out. "Are you guys getting back together soon?" Their questions and comments are making me lose my focus. I ignore Will and address Jacob instead. "Jake, this is the worst time to talk about anything else right now. I have to get this done and I can't if I lose my focus." His eyebrows raise in surprise. "You just called me Jake." I only ever called him Jake when I was upset with him, but didn't want to hurt his feelings by snapping at him. He used to like when I said it because he said it made him feel like I loved him a lot more than I let on. I didn't even realize I had said it. "Sorry, it slipped," I tell him. I don't even know why it slipped. Old habits coming back to haunt me. "Right," he says going back to his computer screen. They leave me alone and right before class ends, they put their portions of the paper on the drive so I can put them in the template. Just as I'm placing the first two the bell rings. "You need any help?" Jacob asks. Instead of making a snarky comment about him helping me days ago, I shake my head. "Nope, I'm good." "Okay. About my game tomorrow, I don't know if my parents are going so that's why I want you to go." It isn't like he's asking me to give him my liver. However, going to his game might bring back certain memories. Maybe I can push them out. Before I can answer, there's a knock at the door. Dylan is standing at the doorway, but he's looking at Mrs. Thomas. "Ah, Mr. Parker," Mrs. Thomas says. "I'm glad you showed up." "I don't know what else I'd rather do after school on a Friday," he says with a deadpan face. Jacob is obviously annoyed and rolls his eyes. "Is this guy never not around?" Dylan seems surprised to see me. His eyes travel to Jacob then they go back to Mrs. Thomas. She's going through her desk, but she stops and sighs. "Just stay here, Mr. Parker. I need more slips, so I'll be right back. Sit in the front row, please." He does as she says and she steps out of the classroom. Jacob gives me an expectant look. "Anyway, it'd be great if you go tomorrow." "Um, sure, I'll go," I say, mostly to get him off my back. His arms wrap around me before I can dodge them. Once they're around me, I feel a sense of comfort and I instantly regret saying yes to going to his game. "Awesome. I'll see you then." As he's walking to the door, he glances at Dylan and a smirk appears on his face. It bothers me slightly, but it's best if I focus on finishing the paper and not on either boy. As I'm formatting the second to last page, I hear Dylan's voice next to me. "What's this?" His chair is close to mine, and his attention is on my computer. "The school newspaper. I have to finish this before I leave," I say. "What are you doing here?" "Detention," he shrugs. Mrs. Thomas is a freshman English teacher as well as the journalism teacher. I can't imagine how Dylan got detention from her. "What class do you have with Mrs. Thomas?" "Advisory. Apparently, she doesn't like me and Reece talking." "Why isn't Reece here?" "I guess I was doing more talking than him. That bastard owes me."