liar. Too many lies already. “Yeah, he did. He got remarried when I was in seventh grade.” Caleb sat absolutely still, staring at me. “That lasted three years,” I said, my voice flat. “The gnocchi here is amazing. Do you know what you’re going to order?”
“What happened? Did you like her?” Nope. Not on our first date. Not on our millionth date. My attempt at changing the subject had failed. I tried to think of something to satisfy his curiosity.
“Actually, I begged him to marry her. I’m an only child, and I wanted a sibling. She had two kids. Lesson: never let your eleven-year-old give you relationship advice.” I laughed like it was funny and then asked him about the sports he played. He launched into a rant about his practice schedule next semester. My anxiety drained away. I was having fun. When he told me about water polo, I blushed. Do not picture him in a Speedo. Do not picture him in a Speedo.
But I couldn’t help it.
***
He asked me to drive back from the restaurant. As I sped up the road from town, the happy afterglow of our date blew right out the window. Thick tension filled the car. You know what happens at the end of dates. When I shifted gears, I felt his eyes on me. I fidgeted in my seat and the leather squeaked awkwardly. I refused to meet his gaze.
When I turned up my street, he asked me if we had a good view from our house.
“No, but you drive to the top of the road you can see the entire valley.”
“Will you show me?” My body felt flushed. I slowed down as we approached my driveway.
“Okay.” I passed my house. There was a turnout at the end of the road under a grove of giant eucalyptus trees. I pulled in, turned the key, and the engine purred to a stop. From the front seat you could see the twinkling lights in the valley below, like a river of diamonds scattered by a giant.
“That’s an awesome view. But the one in here’s even better.”
I turned to look at him. His face shone in the wash of moonlight. I had been in so many strange cars for work, but never alone in one with a boy. My palms were damp. My nerves paralyzed my tongue. Say something! Don’t blow this!
“Thanks for dinner, Caleb. I had a great time.”
“Me too.” I raised my head. His eyes sparkled dark blue. He reached out and laced his fingers through mine. A herd of small bunnies scampered down my arms and up my back.
“Lana?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you come here, please?” He pulled my hand towards him and my upper body followed. Our faces met and then he was kissing me, hard. I pulled my hand loose from his and raked my fingers through his hair, pulling his head towards mine. He took a sharp intake of breath and his arms tightened around me.
Before I could answer him, he checked his watch and groaned. “Damn. I have to get up in like four hours. We’re going skiing in Tahoe—me, Wyatt, and Evan.”
“That sounds fun.” It sounded horrible, actually. He unbuckled his seat belt and faced me. This is where he blows you off, tells you to have a nice life, explains that he has to get back to the sorority sisters in bikinis who are waiting in his room guarding his Speedo collection.
“You’re going to have a great time.”
He looked at me cryptically. “Not anymore.” He kissed me again and when we finally broke apart, his cheeks were flushed and the windows were steamed up.
“You might have to stop kissing like this,” he said, out of breath. His eyes gleamed.
“What if I don’t want to?”
He stared at me. “You don’t want to find out. Or do you, Lana?” A tendril of fear wound through my stomach. The Porsche had a tiny backseat, so I doubted we could do too much in his car. But the idea that he wanted to was thrilling.
It was so late when I got home that I snuck in through the window. This time I didn’t wake up my dad.
***
The next day Caleb sent me a selfie of him, Wyatt, and Evan on a ski lift.
Then four days went by.
No messages.
No
“What happened? Did you like her?” Nope. Not on our first date. Not on our millionth date. My attempt at changing the subject had failed. I tried to think of something to satisfy his curiosity.
“Actually, I begged him to marry her. I’m an only child, and I wanted a sibling. She had two kids. Lesson: never let your eleven-year-old give you relationship advice.” I laughed like it was funny and then asked him about the sports he played. He launched into a rant about his practice schedule next semester. My anxiety drained away. I was having fun. When he told me about water polo, I blushed. Do not picture him in a Speedo. Do not picture him in a Speedo.
But I couldn’t help it.
***
He asked me to drive back from the restaurant. As I sped up the road from town, the happy afterglow of our date blew right out the window. Thick tension filled the car. You know what happens at the end of dates. When I shifted gears, I felt his eyes on me. I fidgeted in my seat and the leather squeaked awkwardly. I refused to meet his gaze.
When I turned up my street, he asked me if we had a good view from our house.
“No, but you drive to the top of the road you can see the entire valley.”
“Will you show me?” My body felt flushed. I slowed down as we approached my driveway.
“Okay.” I passed my house. There was a turnout at the end of the road under a grove of giant eucalyptus trees. I pulled in, turned the key, and the engine purred to a stop. From the front seat you could see the twinkling lights in the valley below, like a river of diamonds scattered by a giant.
“That’s an awesome view. But the one in here’s even better.”
I turned to look at him. His face shone in the wash of moonlight. I had been in so many strange cars for work, but never alone in one with a boy. My palms were damp. My nerves paralyzed my tongue. Say something! Don’t blow this!
“Thanks for dinner, Caleb. I had a great time.”
“Me too.” I raised my head. His eyes sparkled dark blue. He reached out and laced his fingers through mine. A herd of small bunnies scampered down my arms and up my back.
“Lana?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you come here, please?” He pulled my hand towards him and my upper body followed. Our faces met and then he was kissing me, hard. I pulled my hand loose from his and raked my fingers through his hair, pulling his head towards mine. He took a sharp intake of breath and his arms tightened around me.
Before I could answer him, he checked his watch and groaned. “Damn. I have to get up in like four hours. We’re going skiing in Tahoe—me, Wyatt, and Evan.”
“That sounds fun.” It sounded horrible, actually. He unbuckled his seat belt and faced me. This is where he blows you off, tells you to have a nice life, explains that he has to get back to the sorority sisters in bikinis who are waiting in his room guarding his Speedo collection.
“You’re going to have a great time.”
He looked at me cryptically. “Not anymore.” He kissed me again and when we finally broke apart, his cheeks were flushed and the windows were steamed up.
“You might have to stop kissing like this,” he said, out of breath. His eyes gleamed.
“What if I don’t want to?”
He stared at me. “You don’t want to find out. Or do you, Lana?” A tendril of fear wound through my stomach. The Porsche had a tiny backseat, so I doubted we could do too much in his car. But the idea that he wanted to was thrilling.
It was so late when I got home that I snuck in through the window. This time I didn’t wake up my dad.
***
The next day Caleb sent me a selfie of him, Wyatt, and Evan on a ski lift.
Then four days went by.
No messages.
No
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