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    Something About Love: A YA contemporary romance in verse

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      Breathe deep.

      “That sounds bad too.

      I’m taking his picture.”

      I hold up my photography pack and

      Flash kit.

      “Be back in a bit.”

      “IT’S REALLY DARK OUT HERE,”

      Trevor comments as he

      Pulls his jacket tighter.

      He peers toward the highway behind us, where

      There are very few cars.

      I continue fiddling with the umbrella so

      It won’t blow away in this wicked wind,

      Hoping I can pull off this technique before we

      Freeze to death.

      Twenty minutes later,

      I think I’ve got the shot I want, and

      Trevor and I are huddled in my car.

      He was the perfect model this time,

      Doing exactly what I said with his hands and

      Feet and

      Body.

      I put the flash behind him, so

      His facial expression didn’t matter.

      He’s blowing on his hands;

      I’m sitting on mine;

      The heater is taking forever to warm up.

      The radio is on low, and

      We’re done shooting, but

      I don’t want to go home yet.

      Trevor doesn’t seem to be in a hurry either.

      “How were midterms?” I ask.

      “Fine,” he says.

      He lowers his hands and

      Sits so still.

      The air is charged with tension.

      I recognize this feeling,

      This awkward anticipation.

      I’ve felt it before with Trevor.

      Before he asked me out.

      Before he kissed me.

      Before I found out Harris had defaced my locker.

      I’ve felt a lot of things with Trevor, and

      I’ve been brushing them away for months—

      Eighteen of them.

      But now, I hold onto my feelings,

      Acknowledge them,

      Embrace the spontaneity of them.

      Don’t think, just react.

      “What’s wrong?”

      I turn toward him, finally relaxing as

      I feel the first inklings of heat from the vents.

      I pull my hands from under my legs and

      Rest them in my lap.

      “Nothing.”

      He shifts toward me too, and

      The heat I feel is suddenly coming from him.

      It’s dark, but

      I can see the outline of his face.

      I can see his hand as he moves it toward me.

      He fumbles a little bit but

      Manages to wrap his fingers around mine.

      My first reaction is to sigh and

      Close my eyes,

      Enjoy the warmth of his skin and

      The firmness of his fingers around mine.

      Don’t think, just react,

      Jacey had said.

      I squeeze his hand—

      My next reaction.

      He squeezes back.

      WHY DO YOU WANT TO GO OUT WITH ME?

      My midnight text gets sent late so

      Trevor might not see it until morning.

      My heart jumps when my phone vibrates.

      I smile, though

      I try to hold it back.

      Him: Do I need a reason?

      Me: Yes.

      I mean, I’m not very nice to you.

      I’ve told you no.

      And—

      Him: You don’t act like I’m king of the world.

      I stop typing, reading and

      Re-reading his words.

      Me: And

      So you like me because I don’t act like

      You’re the hottest boy ever born?

      Him: Are you saying I’m the hottest boy ever born?

      Me: Haha

      Him: Seriously, Wings.

      I like you.

      I don’t really want to qualify it against

      Someone else’s reasons for why.

      Me:

      Him, only seconds later: I want to be waiting for you when

      You find your way back.

      I brush away the tears threatening to

      Spill out.

      Him: That’s why I’ve put up with your attitude.

      ;)

      Me: I’m sorry.

      Him: Don’t be.

      When I get lost,

      I’ll be counting on you

      To find me.

      “OLIVIA, DARLING, I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU.”

      Mom’s voice on the message sounds pleasant,

      Unrushed.

      “Trevor is staying at the house again this weekend.

      His mom got a new job, and

      She’s traveling more than she used to.

      I hope that’s okay.

      Your dad mentioned that you don’t like it when he’s here, and

      I want you to be comfortable.

      Call me, okay?”

      I delete the message,

      Marveling that Mom called because

      She…

      Cares how I feel?

      I call her back, and

      Tell her it’s fine if Trevor’s there, and

      Ask her what she has planned for the weekend.

      She sounds surprised that I’ve asked, and

      A twinge of guilt stabs through me.

      “Maybe we could go shopping?” she asks.

      I wrinkle my nose and

      Suggest, “Movie instead?

      Maybe pizza after?

      Rose will beg for ice cream too.”

      Mom laughs, and

      I can’t remember the last time I heard her do that,

      Especially not because of something I’ve done.

      My chest feels so tight,

      So tight.

      “Mom—” I start and

      Find I can’t finish.

      Tears prick behind my eyes and

      I suddenly hate this wall between us.

      Mom doesn’t seem to notice that

      I’m on the verge of a break-down, because

      She says, “See you tonight.

      Movie date on Saturday!” and

      Hangs up.

      “HEY, WINGS,”

      Trevor says when

      Rose and I arrive at the Youngbloods

      On Friday night.

      He’s lounging in the kitchen,

      A plate of food in front of him.

      “My mom sent dinner tonight since

      Our parents have that country club thing.

      You guys hungry?”

      Rose looks at me before

      Bounding over to Trevor.

      They’re not best friends or

      Anything, but

      He’s always been nice to her and

      That’s all Rose cares about.

      “Mmm, spaghetti,” she says.

      “Does your mom cook every night?

      Livvy cooks for us.”

      “I know,” Trevor says.

      “Remember I ate with you guys a couple of weeks ago?”

      He places a piece of garlic bread in front of her and

      Turns to heat up her spaghetti in the microwave.

      I lean against the doorway,

      Watching them.

      “And my mom hardly ever cooks,” he continues.

      “I’m really good at ordering pizza and

      Going to a drive-through.”

      Rose smiles at him and

      Then at me.

      “Come eat, Livvy.”

      So I do.

      “BUT MOM IS TAKING US TO A MOVIE TOMORROW,”

      I protest when Rose wants to do

      Movie night tonight.

      “I like the stay-home movie night,” she insists.

      “There’s popcorn in the cupboard, and

      I brought a box of hot chocolate from Dad’s.”

      I sigh,

      Knowing I won’t win against my sister.

      I can’t stand to see her unhappy, and

    &n
    bsp; She wants a stay-home movie night complete with

      Popcorn and hot chocolate.

      “Fine,” I concede. “What movie?”

      “Something we all like,”

      Trevor says as he enters the family room with

      A huge bowl of popcorn.

      He’s carrying two additional bowls and

      A stack of napkins.

      “You’re staying here?”

      This night is moving toward something

      I’m not sure I’m ready for.

      “I have no other plans.”

      He sets the popcorn down and

      Turns back to the kitchen.

      “Milk or water for your hot chocolate, Rose?”

      “Milk,” she says,

      Still searching for the right movie.

      Ten minutes later,

      I’ve strategically positioned myself in

      The recliner instead of on

      The sectional with

      Rose and Trevor.

      She’s happily slurping her hot chocolate and

      Crunching on popcorn,

      The beginnings of Bridge to Terabithia

      Pouring from the huge TV.

      Trevor seems content with his snacks and

      The choice of movie.

      He hasn’t looked at me once,

      Hasn’t acted like he’s anything more than

      My friend.

      I clench my fingers around my mug of hot chocolate and

      Try to focus on the movie.

      “LOOKS LIKE SHE’S OUT FOR GOOD.”

      Trevor’s voice interrupts my intense focus on

      The tree house on the TV.

      “What?”

      I turn toward him and

      Find Rose fast asleep on the couch.

      My heart simultaneously drops and

      Leaps.

      I remember the way Trevor’s hand felt in mine,

      I remember how I slowly drove him home after the shoot,

      Holding his hand for a good fifteen minutes.

      I remember how he’d whispered, “See you later, Wings,” and

      Got out of the car without

      Trying anything else, or

      Asking me to go out with him, or

      Anything.

      He gets up and

      Gathers his mug and Rose’s.

      “You done?”

      “Yeah, sure.”

      I hand him my empty mug and

      Half-empty bowl.

      He leaves, and

      I can’t stop the thoughts

      Parading through my head.

      I want to sit next to him on the couch.

      I want to hold his hand again.

      I jump from the recliner and

      Listen for him to approach.

      When I hear his footsteps,

      I hurry to the built-in closet behind the couch.

      “What are you looking for?” he asks.

      “A blanket,” I say.

      “I’m cold.”

      He opens the door two down from me and

      Pulls out a huge quilt.

      He takes it with him as he moves back to his spot

      On the couch.

      I close the closet door slowly,

      Watching him.

      Is he inviting me to sit next to him?

      Share the blanket with him?

      I go to the cabinet where he got the blanket,

      Not sure how to get what I want without

      Admitting

      How I feel.

      “We can share,” he says.

      “I don’t mind.”

      “I DON’T MIND EITHER.”

      I can’t believe I said that,

      I think after

      I’m settled next to Trevor on the couch.

      I’m not touching him, but

      I desperately want to hold his hand.

      I can’t believe he didn’t say something like,

      “Are you saying you like me?

      Want to sit next to me?

      Hold my hand?”

      But he’d simply held the blanket aside until

      I sat next to him.

      Then he tossed it over my legs and

      Let me take as much as I wanted.

      I’m calculating how much time we have to be alone when

      He leans toward me.

      “This movie always makes me cry,” he whispers.

      “I know,” I say without turning.

      “I’ve watched this with you before.”

      “Really?” he asks.

      “I don’t remember.”

      “Yeah.”

      I turn toward him.

      “Remember we watched it after—”

      He raises his arm and

      Gently pulls me forward until

      I’m cradled against his chest.

      “Ah, now I remember.

      We used to watch a lot of movies like this.”

      His heartbeat is galloping,

      A gentle bumping against my cheek.

      Don’t think, just react.

      I smile and

      Slide my arm around his waist.

      “I don’t know what’s changed with you,” he says real quiet so

      He won’t wake Rose, or

      Maybe so he won’t scare me away.

      “But I’m not complaining.”

      “I’m trying to find my way back.”

      “I know, but

      What’s changed?

      Two weeks ago,

      You said I had no chance with you, and

      Now you’re letting me hold your hand and

      I’m thinking I could probably kiss you and

      You’d let me do that too.”

      My lips tingle just thinking about kissing him.

      “Um,” I say.

      “I’m working through some stuff, and

      Jacey said I should just react and

      Stop thinking so much.”

      “Jacey is so smart,” he says with a chuckle.

      I HAD A FUN TIME AT THE MOVIES WITH MY MOM.

      I stare at the fresh journal page,

      Completely shocked that I’m writing again.

      I haven’t written in a journal since

      Trevor and I broke up.

      But I did have a good time at the movies with

      Mom and

      Rose.

      We got popcorn and

      Sodas.

      After, Rose got her way, and

      Mom bought ice cream.

      Mom laughed,

      Hugged Rose, and

      Smiled at me like she used to before

      I discovered her affair with Darren Youngblood.

      I still blame her for leaving us and

      Going off to live with Darren, but

      I’m starting to realize now that

      She didn’t replace us with a new family,

      That she isn’t perfect, but

      That she…loves us.

      That she loves me.

      TREVOR IS UNREASONABLY HAPPY TODAY,

      Jacey texts on Monday during her lunch.

      Me: So?

      Jacey: You better tell me everything.

      Right now.

      I know you’re hiding something.

      I’ve been holding onto the secret of

      Trevor, of

      Holding his hand, of

      Listening to the beat of his heart instead of

      Listening to the movie.

      I hadn’t even cried like I usually do, because

      I’d been so happy with Trevor.

      Me: Okay, fine.

      I may have held his hand last weekend, and

      We may have watched a movie together on Friday.

      Jacey: !!!

      Gotta go,

      Come get me after school.

      Me: Don’t make a big deal out of this.

      I’m just reacting,

      Like you suggested.

      Jacey doesn’t answer, because

      She’s in class.

      I flip my phone over,

      Thinking about everything’s that changed since


      I started shooting him.

      Because of him,

      I’m taking pictures again, and

      I love it.

      Because of him,

      I’ve forgiven my mom—

      Just a little bit—

      But still.

      Because of him,

      I’m contemplating taking a picture of myself so

      I can see who I really am,

      How I really feel.

      I thumb the camera on and

      See myself staring at the screen.

      I quickly tap the shutter button, and

      The camera clicks.

      “I HATE MY HAIR,”

      I mutter.

      I’ve never realized it until now,

      Staring at myself on

      The screen of my phone.

      I see myself in the mirror all the time, and

      I’ve cut my hair this way on purpose.

      But looking at myself in this cheap,

      Phone-taken

      Picture,

      I realize

      I hate my hair.

      “LET’S TRY AGAIN.”

      I navigate back to the camera, and

      This time,

      I try to smile.

      “I LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT.”

      I can’t smile right.

      It feels wrong,

      Like I’ve forgotten how to do it because

      It’s been so long since I’ve tried—or

      Had a reason to smile.

      I touch the shutter anyway and

      Analyze the picture.

      I see nothing in my eyes.

      None of the happiness,

      Joy, or

      Amusement

      You’d expect to see in a picture of someone smiling.

      I don’t look annoyed either, or

      Like the photographer has coaxed this smile from

      Me by proclaiming, “Smile!”

      I simply look…dead inside,

      Like a girl who’s trying to smile because

      A boy challenged her to take a selfie and

      See what it said about her.

      But this photo says nothing about me,

      And yet,

      It says everything.

      It says how unhappy I’ve allowed myself to become, and

     


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