CH8

Today was the day of the date. Azalea wasn't sure if she was excited about it anymore, but she definitely wanted to know more about Jackson. After all, that's all he really was to her—just a friend. Yes, a guy she had grown to tolerate over time. A guy she liked simply as a friend, nothing more, nothing less.

She stood in front of the mirror, her hair pulled into a messy bun, and checked herself over one last time. She wasn't trying too hard, but she still wanted to look presentable. Jackson, lounging on the bean bag across the room, gave her a quick glance, his eyes flicking over her casually, like he didn't care, but Azalea could feel the weight of his gaze nonetheless.

She was dressed casually: a simple white V-neck, well-fitted blue jeans, and a pair of tennis shoes. She added a delicate necklace, but nothing too flashy. It was a laid-back look, but it felt right for today.

Azalea caught Jackson's gaze in the mirror and turned to face him, feeling a playful smirk tug at her lips.

"Are you done yet?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock impatience.

Jackson raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, Azalea dropped her shoulders dramatically, giving him a deadpan "are you serious?" look. "Yes, I'm done. Can we go now?" she mimicked his voice, grabbing her purse with a flourish.

"Haha, very funny," Jackson replied, rolling his eyes as he stood up.

With that, they were out the door, making their way across the parking lot toward Jackson's car. As they walked, the two of them pranced along in their usual playful way, the conversation light and easy. But as they reached the end of the lot, they both froze, their eyes landing on someone quite familiar.

Standing near the edge of the lot, a figure was staring right back at them. It was hard to miss.

It was Thompson.

He stood there, looking completely put together in a freshly pressed suit, circular glasses perched on his nose, and a cup of coffee in his left hand. His right hand was focused on his phone, as if the world around him didn't exist for the moment.

Azalea and Jackson both reacted to seeing him in their own ways. Jackson's expression immediately twisted into a scowl, his eyes narrowing into a glare that could probably cut through steel. Azalea, on the other hand, simply smiled politely, doing her best to appear calm despite the awkwardness of the situation.

"Mr. Thompson, hi!" she called out, raising a hand in a friendly wave.

The professor slowed his pace, his eyes flicking up from his phone to meet hers. He paused just long enough to acknowledge them both. His gaze lingered on Jackson's cold stare for a brief moment, but it quickly shifted back to Azalea, as if Jackson's glare hadn't fazed him at all.

"Ah, Ms. Moore," he said, his voice warm, almost a little too rehearsed. "How are you?"

"I'm fine actually. I'm still sorry for yesterday's hiccup. I'm still holding my promise on getting you a cup of coffee."

He chuckles, showing off his dimple. Gosh, he barely had to smile for her to see it. Just like Jackson, the slightest movement could give it away.

"Don't worry about it Ms.Moore. I've got a fresh one already," he says tipping his cup. She laughed and Thompson's eyes landed on Jackson again.

"Is this the kid you were referring to?" Thompson asked, his eyes shifting between Jackson and Azalea.

Azalea almost forgot Jackson was standing right behind her as she turned to glance at him. She could feel the tension radiating from him, his curiosity about whatever the two of them had been talking about swirling in the air.

"Oh, yes, he is," she replied with a small smile. Without thinking, Azalea set a hand on Jackson's chest, a subtle, instinctive gesture that immediately softened his stare, making him look down at her in surprise.

"Jackson, this is my English professor, Thompson—"

"Uh, Maddox. Maddox Thompson," he interrupted, his voice casual but firm. Azalea nodded, quickly correcting herself.

"Mr. Maddox Thompson. And yesterday, after helping with his papers—since I kind of ruined them with coffee—I asked him if he was your dad," she said with a playful beam, the memory still fresh in her mind.

Jackson blinked, caught off guard by the mention of the conversation, but the lighthearted way Azalea spoke made the whole situation feel oddly amusing.

Jackson made a face and chuckled dryly. "What?"

"I mean, I know it's just an assumption," Azalea continued with a playful shrug, "but you can't deny that the two of you kind of look alike. Well, not exactly the same, but there are some similar features. You both have the same kind of presence. And he even has a dimple on the right side of his cheek."

Jackson met his father's gaze—taunting, cold—and tried his hardest not to lash out, to punch the man standing in front of him.

"Interesting," Maddox replied, almost too casually, before Jackson spoke up with a detached, icy tone. "But nah, my father's dead to me."

Azalea took a small step back, glancing at Maddox with a mix of confusion and discomfort at the exchange.

"Oh," she said softly, the weight of the words hanging in the air. She didn't know how to respond, but she couldn't help but feel the tension radiating between the two men.

Maddox, however, didn't miss a beat. "Well, that's sad to hear, son," he said, his voice smooth but dripping with something colder, something sharp. The way he said son—a subtle taunt, loaded with malice—felt like it was meant to get under Jackson's skin. His soft delivery made it feel like a casual comment, but Azalea could sense the venom behind it.

Jackson clenched his jaw, fighting to stay composed.

Maddox turned back to Azalea with a smile, as if the moment had passed, as if nothing had happened. "Hopefully everything works out with you and your father," he said, his gaze lingering on her with a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.

"Have a nice day, Azalea, I look forward to seeing you in class tomorrow."

Azalea returned his polite gesture with a nod. "Yeah, me too." Thompson tipped his cup to Jackson and continued his journey.

Jackson on the other hand was gritting his teeth and clenching his fists in pure rage. Azalea noticed his bothered demeanor and got worried.

"Hey are you okay?"

Jackson blinked and cleared his throat, his fists coming unclenched. He smiles, tapping her chin.

"Of course I am. Now let's get going before the day runs out."

Despite her growing question on his father, she pushed it to the back of her brain for now, actually wanting to enjoy the day. And soon, the two was off.

They started the day with a leisurely brunch at a cute café, sipping mimosas and chatting about future plans. Azie didn't take Jackson for a coffee guy but he told her to stop asking questions and to just enjoy the day.

As they lingered over coffee, they found themselves laughing and sharing stories about their favorite book. She can't recall how they got onto the topic but it settled in place.

"I personally don't like The Simple Truth. It was good or whatever but...the not so main character died." Jackson complains, eating the last of his croissant.

"What? So your argument is that, just because your favorite character didn't survive, you don't like the book?"

"Exactly."

Azalea shook her head in disapproval. "That's not how it works."

There was a loud dinging sound and Jackson picked up his phone. Azalea watched as his tongue poked the inside of his mouth.

"Times up."

Her stare broke. "What?"

Jackson got up, throwing his jacket back onto his shoulders.

"Come on fire ant, try to keep up."

Azalea shoved the last bite of her food into her mouth and quickly skipped behind him. Jackson got into his car with Azalea behind him.

"Where are we going now?"

"Stop it with the questions Azie and just let me do me."

She rolled her eyes and stifled a grin. Twenty minute later they arrived at a park. Azie, like he said, didn't ask any questions.

Azie followed Jackson out of the car and towards a guy that's standing next to four bikes. He glanced at them and greeted them with a smile.

Jackson pulled out a hundred and the man nodded. "Have a fun time now." He says. Jackson handed Azie a bike of her own and he took one.

"We will." Jackson then motioned for her to follow him and she did.

"A bike ride?"

"Jesus Christ fire ant, the queries, when will they end?"

"Ugh, stop calling me that."

"Alright babe."

She didn't argue and the both of them took off on a bike trail. The rode for along the path, taking in the different trees and birds, and they even passed a few people that politely greeted them with a smile and nod.

When their time was up he decided to 'race' her.

"You totally cheated."

"Don't hate the player fire ant, hate the game." He winks. She just rolled her eyes and they gave the man his bikes back and Jackson tipped him another hundred dollars.

After the park, they went to a museum and spent hours exploring the exhibits, learning about art and history, and discussing their thoughts and opinions.

Again she didn't think Jackson was the museum type, but it blew her mind that he knew absolutely everything that was on stand. It was like walking next to a live Siri.

"Okay what about this one?" She asks. Jackson glanced at the Mona Lisa and laughed.

"Really Azie? The Mona Lisa? You've got to give me something harder than that."

"Jackson, we literally went to every art piece in this place and you were able to list them off from the top of the dome and tell their exact background." She calls out.

Jackson chuckled wholeheartedly and hummed. "Well we all know Leonardo Da Vinci painted it, however I don't want to cover it. It's too easy."

"Hmm."

Silence. The both of them just stared at the painting staring back at them with the faint smile on her face. Something that is hard to come by at first glance.

"She is oddly beautiful though." He speaks, his tone low. Azalea gazed his way.

"You find every girl beautiful."

He grins and she felt her heart flip at the sigh of his dimple. "All women are beautiful, yes, but some could have nasty personalities."

"Like Megan?"

That made him look at her. "Okay, it's time for us to go."

Azalea didn't push it and left behind him. When they got out they realized the sun setting.

"Jesus, exactly how long were we in for?" She asks.

"We left around eleven, stopped at the cafe and stayed there for about two hours, and left there around one. Made it to the park one thirty and went for an hour ride leading us up to two thirty, then we stopped here and had a four and a half hour self tour on all the acient paintings. It's around seven o'clock."

"You kept track?"

"It's fun. Anyways, hop in, we've got two more places to go before we call it a night."

Azie allowed him to lead the way and their next stop was an arcade. "Oh yeah." An excited smile reached his features and he got out.

"Wait for me." Azalea joined in his contagious excitement and they went inside.

"Most wins gets free ice cream from the loser."

"You're on."