ready. Not ready to face Stacey after their almost-fight last night, not ready to figure out what to do next.
Clueless
floated through his mind.
Maybe … maybe Peyton could help? Calvin twisted around to glance at the closed front door. Inside, his oldest sister was helping Mom get ready for Easter brunch tomorrow. Peyton always moaned that she wanted to lose weight, but when it came to the roast lamb and piles of desserts Mom would lay out tomorrow, Peyton would jump on the food like a hungry linebacker. Would she have any understanding at all of what Stacey was doing?
Tires crunched on the gravel driveway. Calvin turned back and got to his feet in one movement, watching as Stacey pulled her blue Honda up even with the grassless path that led to the porch steps. She smiled and gave a giddy wave before opening the car door.
Act normal. Nothing wrong. Just a little tension we’ll forget about tomorrow
. Calvin thumped slowly down the steps. He could play this game for a while. It’d give him time to watch her and see if her symptoms went away in the next few days, like a “female problem” would.
Stacey launched herself out of the car and bull’s-eyed his lips with hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they swayed awkwardly on the dirt path. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was horrible to you last night.” She pressed her forehead against his. “It’s just thatRenee was fighting with everyone and Zoe was there … I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Oh
. “It’s okay.”
Not really, but—
“I feel really bad about what I said, and I want to make it up to you.” She slipped her arms down and grabbed one of his hands. “Come here.”
“Are we going somewhere?” Calvin asked as she pulled him toward the car. “I need to tell Mom if—”
“No. I have something for you. Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it or frame it or anything.”
Which meant it was another of her poems or drawings. As Stacey bent inside her car to retrieve whatever it was, Calvin’s gaze traveled over her form. She was wearing another of her bulky sweaters, but the bagginess of her jeans raised a warning in his brain. He didn’t really pay attention to her clothes unless she pointed out something new she’d made, but hadn’t her jeans fit tighter before?
Calvin tugged his hair and took a step back.
She emerged from the car with a blue folder in her hand. Calvin held his breath as he opened it. An inked drawing inside depicted a male figure in heroic pose, wearing motocross gear and holding a helmet under his arms. His round face and curly hair were the only things that resembled Calvin at all, but she’d sketched those features with as much precision as any caricature artist would have. And the motorcycle behind him looked exactly, detail for detail, like his Yamaha. Yet he knew she hadn’t traced it. She could take a picture of something and copy it perfectly. At least he thought so. Beneath the drawing, Stacey had drawn comic-book-style letters spelling “Motocross Star.”
Calvin wanted to hug her until she couldn’t breathe. “Stace, wow. Just … wow. This is awesome. You’re so talented.”
She slipped her arm around him and hugged him sideways, herhand pressed against his stomach. “Calvin, I know I shouldn’t be jealous of Flannery. I know you’re just friends. Forgive me?”
He closed the folder and squeezed her. Stacey’s perfume filled his nose and lungs, dizzying him. Closing his eyes, he wished he could draw Stacey into himself and live in the place where she loved him and he loved her and nothing else mattered. Where they were both normal and happy. Stacey was amazing. He didn’t deserve her. He was just a regular guy with a beat-up old motorcycle and no clue about where he was going in life. She was beautiful and talented, and maybe she’d even be famous someday for her art. She was a blessing to him, definitely.
How could he doubt her?
Calvin broke the embrace reluctantly.
Clueless
floated through his mind.
Maybe … maybe Peyton could help? Calvin twisted around to glance at the closed front door. Inside, his oldest sister was helping Mom get ready for Easter brunch tomorrow. Peyton always moaned that she wanted to lose weight, but when it came to the roast lamb and piles of desserts Mom would lay out tomorrow, Peyton would jump on the food like a hungry linebacker. Would she have any understanding at all of what Stacey was doing?
Tires crunched on the gravel driveway. Calvin turned back and got to his feet in one movement, watching as Stacey pulled her blue Honda up even with the grassless path that led to the porch steps. She smiled and gave a giddy wave before opening the car door.
Act normal. Nothing wrong. Just a little tension we’ll forget about tomorrow
. Calvin thumped slowly down the steps. He could play this game for a while. It’d give him time to watch her and see if her symptoms went away in the next few days, like a “female problem” would.
Stacey launched herself out of the car and bull’s-eyed his lips with hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they swayed awkwardly on the dirt path. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was horrible to you last night.” She pressed her forehead against his. “It’s just thatRenee was fighting with everyone and Zoe was there … I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Oh
. “It’s okay.”
Not really, but—
“I feel really bad about what I said, and I want to make it up to you.” She slipped her arms down and grabbed one of his hands. “Come here.”
“Are we going somewhere?” Calvin asked as she pulled him toward the car. “I need to tell Mom if—”
“No. I have something for you. Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it or frame it or anything.”
Which meant it was another of her poems or drawings. As Stacey bent inside her car to retrieve whatever it was, Calvin’s gaze traveled over her form. She was wearing another of her bulky sweaters, but the bagginess of her jeans raised a warning in his brain. He didn’t really pay attention to her clothes unless she pointed out something new she’d made, but hadn’t her jeans fit tighter before?
Calvin tugged his hair and took a step back.
She emerged from the car with a blue folder in her hand. Calvin held his breath as he opened it. An inked drawing inside depicted a male figure in heroic pose, wearing motocross gear and holding a helmet under his arms. His round face and curly hair were the only things that resembled Calvin at all, but she’d sketched those features with as much precision as any caricature artist would have. And the motorcycle behind him looked exactly, detail for detail, like his Yamaha. Yet he knew she hadn’t traced it. She could take a picture of something and copy it perfectly. At least he thought so. Beneath the drawing, Stacey had drawn comic-book-style letters spelling “Motocross Star.”
Calvin wanted to hug her until she couldn’t breathe. “Stace, wow. Just … wow. This is awesome. You’re so talented.”
She slipped her arm around him and hugged him sideways, herhand pressed against his stomach. “Calvin, I know I shouldn’t be jealous of Flannery. I know you’re just friends. Forgive me?”
He closed the folder and squeezed her. Stacey’s perfume filled his nose and lungs, dizzying him. Closing his eyes, he wished he could draw Stacey into himself and live in the place where she loved him and he loved her and nothing else mattered. Where they were both normal and happy. Stacey was amazing. He didn’t deserve her. He was just a regular guy with a beat-up old motorcycle and no clue about where he was going in life. She was beautiful and talented, and maybe she’d even be famous someday for her art. She was a blessing to him, definitely.
How could he doubt her?
Calvin broke the embrace reluctantly.
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