Read Online If I Tell by Janet Gurtler - Free Book Online

in bed.
    “Okay.” Jackson didn’t sound convinced, but he reached for his radio dial and turned up the volume. “You’re the boss,” he said. “More rock. Less talk.”
    He flipped channels until a Neil Diamond song blasted over the speakers. “A classic.” Jackson whistled along with the melody for a minute and then belted out the chorus, his voice surprisingly good. “Sweet Caroline,” he sang.
    “Dun dun dun.” I couldn’t resist adding that and then giggled.
    Jackson glanced sideways. “You making fun of my voice?” he asked in mock anger.
    “No.” I signaled at the radio. “My grandpa loved this song. I mean, I love it too,” I admitted.
    “You know this is some hokey-ass music. But wait, didn’t I hear you playing Neil Diamond when you were busking?”
    “I wasn’t busking.” A smile curled my lip up.
    Jackson made a sound that could have been a laugh. “That’s what you claim.” He turned the volume down so we could hear each other better. “I think you should seriously quit busking and join a band. Although finding a band that plays Neil Diamond may be tough.” He smiled. “You take lessons?”
    I glanced down at my lap. “No. My grandpa taught me. He died. My grandpa, I mean. He was the greatest guitar player I knew.”
    I looked up and Jackson nodded, his eyes still on the road. He pulled the car to a stop at a stop sign. “I think it’s cool. That you carry your guitar around and jam when the mood strikes you. Like at school and at the park.”
    “Most people think it’s weird. Think I’m weird.”
    “Yeah. Well, I’m not most people.”
    “Apparently not.” I glanced at the four-way stop. There were no cars, but he didn’t pull forward yet. “I can’t believe you like Neil Diamond,” I said.
    “I can’t believe you like him.” He grinned. “Like I said, people really aren’t always what they seem, right?”
    True enough.
    Jackson reached over and touched my hand for a second and then pulled back. “You know, I’m still pretty new around here. I mean, I don’t have a lot of people to talk to. So, if you ever want to talk more, I’m game.”
    I laughed. “I don’t normally talk very much.”
    “Maybe you just never had the right person to talk to.”
    A car honked behind us, and we both glanced back, surprised to see someone had pulled up behind us.
    “Chill,” Jackson said to the driver behind him as if he could hear. He looked at me and laughed. “What’s with the face?”
    “No face,” I said. He was easy to talk to, but I’d also consumed more alcohol this one night than the rest of my life combined. “It’s just that I haven’t got a lot of friends. Especially male ones.”
    “No? Well, their loss. How about a rain check?” he pulled away from the stop sign. “You ever want to talk, there’s no expiration date. Just let me know. Cool?”
    Knowing I’d never take him up on it, I nodded. “Sure.”
    Jackson turned his car down my street then, and when I pointed to my house, he pulled in front. He shifted the car into park and idled.
    I undid my seat belt and reached for the door. Before I opened it, I swallowed hard and let out a big breath. “Um. Thanks. For getting my shoes. And for the ride. You saved me in more ways than one.” I handed his hoodie back to him.
    “Take it,” he told me. “It’s cold outside.”
    “No. It’s okay.”
    “I insist. And please keep being weird and playing Neil Diamond on your guitar.”
    He smiled, and I hugged the hoodie tight and then tugged on the door handle. “You know, you’re not really the bad boy everyone says you are.”
    He laughed again, and it sounded like a horn. Weird, but somehow the geeky laugh made me like him a little more.
    “Don’t be so sure,” he said. “But I’ll take that as a compliment.” He grinned.
    I pulled his hoodie close to fight off the cold and inhaled the hoodie’s smell. Boy smell. I liked it.
    “You really did go to juvie for drug dealing?” I