Then she asks how my first day went.
She asks if Taylor and Rose
are in any of my classes.
She asks if we can buy
some basil on our way home.
And I answer all her questions.
But it’s hard to keep
the quiver out of my voice.
Because the whole time we’re talking,
Luke is kissing the nape of my neck.
As We Circle Around and Around
Heading back down to the ground level
of the parking lot, and to reality,
Luke says he can hardly wait till I turn eighteen.
“On your eighteenth birthday,
I’ll put up billboards all over town
and take out a full-page ad in the newspaper.
On your eighteenth birthday,
I’ll hire one of those planes
with a banner streaming behind it.
On your eighteenth birthday,
when it’s finally legal for us to be together,
I’ll tell the whole world about us.”
Then, just before we pull out into the street,
he reaches over, takes my hand, and says,
“Can you promise to keep us a secret till then?”
I want to tell him yes, yes I can.
But I just smile and nod.
Because I’m way too dazzled to speak.
A Few Minutes Later
When we stop off at the market
to get the basil for Mom,
Luke buys a bouquet of white lilies
for her too.
But when we get back into the car,
he hands them to me,
saying,
“Lilies for my Lily.”
And my heart
blooms in my chest.
But Then
Just before we get home,
he says that even though they’re for me,
we’ll have to pretend they’re for my mom.
All of a sudden,
I’ve got a giant lump in my throat.
I feel ridiculously close to tears.
“We’ll know, though,” Luke says,
with a reassuring smile.
“You and I will know they’re yours.”
When we walk into the kitchen,
he whips the bouquet out from behind his back,
and presents it to Mom with a deep bow.
“These are for you, Julia,” he says.
“For being so gracious about
letting me camp out here for so long.”
She gives him a playful shove.
Then she takes the flowers,
my flowers, and says,
“Don’t be silly.
You’ve been such a help with the kids.
Honestly. We need you here, Luke.”
And she pulls him in for a hug.
They Are My Flowers
But Mom
gets to choose the vase.
Mom gets to
arrange them.
I want to put them
on my dresser,
where I can feast my eyes on them
while I fall asleep.
But Mom sets the vase
on the kitchen table.
They are
my flowers.
Mine.
It’s the Middle of the Night
I’ve been lying in bed
for hours,
rubbing the stones on my necklace
as if each one is a tiny genie lamp . . .
I can’t take it anymore.
I just can’t.
I throw back the covers
and slip out of my room.
I tiptoe to Luke’s door
and press my cheek to the cool wood.
I can feel him
yearning for me—
yearning for me right now
on the other side of this door.
I suck in a breath
and take hold
of the gleaming glass knob.
But I Don’t Turn It
I pull
my hand away,
slink down the stairs,
and hurry to the kitchen.
I reach
for one of the lilies,
tear off some petals,
and sneak back up to my room.
Then I climb into bed,
open Rebecca,
and press the petals
in its pages.
Except for one—
the one that I tuck underneath
my pillow.
In Creative Writing
We’re supposed to be working
on in-class essays about
what we did during summer vacation.
Stunningly original topic, right?
Mr. Bennett wrote on the board
that we had to include at least two similes,
and that we should remember
to “show” instead of “tell.”
Then
he set a timer
for thirty minutes.
That was around ten minutes ago.
I’m glad he didn’t say
how long our essays had to be.
Because I’m already finished with mine,
and it’s pretty short:
This summer, I felt like a wish that had finally
been fulfilled. I felt like a dream that had
finally been remembered. But I can’t tell you
why, because you told us not to “tell.”
And I can’t “show” you why either, because
that would be telling. The other kind of telling.
And I promised someone I wouldn’t.
The End (and also The Beginning)
Photography Class
Mr. Lewis wanders
through the room with his camera,
pausing now and then to snap a picture
of one of us, as he talks about portraits.
He says when we photograph
another human being,
we learn something about
what makes them human.
He says our cameras can see things
we can’t see with our naked eyes.
“When a portrait is done well,” he says,
“it reveals secrets about its subject.”
Then Mr. L turns and snaps my picture.
“Ack!” I cry, covering my face with my hands.
“Don’t worry,” he chuckles. “I’ll never tell.”
And the whole class cracks up.
I sneak a peek at Presley.
He’s laughing along with everyone else.
But he’s got the kindest look on his face,
like, I feel you, girl.
So I smile my thanks, and start laughing too.
Even though I’m sort of worried . . . I mean,
what did my portrait reveal? What did Mr. L see?
Did he see all my secrets? Did he see Luke and me?
In Madame Melvoin’s Class
I know I’m supposed
to be thinking about
French verbs.
But all
I can think about is
French kissing.
And about
Luke’s lips pressing
against mine.
All I can think about
is the fact that ten minutes from now,
when the bell rings and I rush outside,
mon amour will be waiting for me.
I Hop into Luke’s Car
And I’m just about to beg him
to take me somewhere, anywhere,
so we can kiss, when—
“Surprise!” Alice shouts,
popping up like a jack-in-the-box
from the backseat.
I let out
a startled shriek
and she giggles wildly.
She says, “Wanda’s throat got strepped,
and the nurse sent her home.
So Mom asked Luke to pick me up.
And he’s gonna buy us books at Bella’s!
Isn’t he the most wonderfulest man in the world?”
“Yes,” I say. “He is.”
And Luke and I
exchange a very quick,
very frustrated glance.
But Then I Realize
That if Bella sees Luke and me together again,
she might sense that something’s up.
So I claim I’ve got too much homework.
He smiles at me and says,
“No worries, luv. We’ll make it snappy.”
And his English accent just about undoes me.
A few minutes later, we’re walking into Bella’s
and she’s welcoming us with a platter
of her homemade peanut butter cookies.
Luke takes a bite and says it’s positively brilliant.
And Bella’s just about undone, too.
She blushes deeply and thanks him.
Then Alice says, “We’re making it snappy, luv!”
And starts tugging Bella to the children’s section,
asking her to show her the ballerina books.
Luke puts his hand on my shoulder,
and this little thrill shoots through me
as he guides me toward the “LOVE” section.
I glance back at Bella and catch her watching us.
For a split second, I see this look in her eyes—
this look like she knows.
But then she blinks, and it disappears.
On Thursday After School
When I hop
into Luke’s car,
Alice shouts “Surprise!” again,
and starts giggling her head off.
I whirl around and shoot her a look
that’s less than friendly.
I love Alice,
but it wasn’t even funny the first time.
Apparently,
Wanda is still home sick.
Someone had better get that kid
some stronger antibiotics.
Right now.
Thursday Night
I’m lying
on my bed,
under the twinkling Milky Way
of my glow-in-the-dark stars,
having my nightly tap fest
with Luke.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
And I’m thinking
how ridiculously amazing it is
that he actually
waited for me.
That he waited for me
to grow up.
Just like
he promised me he would.
Friday After School
Alice pops up
out of the backseat
again.
Like an instant replay
of the afternoon before.
Only worse.
Because now
it’s been three whole days
since Luke and I have kissed.
Or held hands.
Or had a single second
alone together.
My
whole body aches
with wanting.
I wonder—
can a person
actually die of desire?
I Didn’t Realize Luke Overheard Me Yesterday
When I was telling Mom
how amazing Mr. Lewis is.
And how even though he said it’s okay
to use my old point-and-shoot for assignments,
I can’t help wishing I had a better camera.
I didn’t realize that Luke heard Mom apologizing,
telling me we can’t afford to buy one right now.
And that he heard me trying to make her feel better,
telling her that actually, I kind of like
the challenge of using the one I have.
I didn’t realize
Luke heard any of that.
But he must have—because just now,
when Mom and I were doing the dishes,
he walked in and gave me a fancy new Nikon.
And even though Mom was right there,
I flung my arms around him.
But she just smiled fondly at me,
like she thinks my “crush” on Luke
is the cutest thing ever.
It’s So Strange
To be at this party
with Taylor and Rose tonight,
so strange to be
laughing and joking
and snapping all these pictures of everyone
with my brand-new camera,
so strange to be playing
this game of truth or dare,
and to have to keep on
taking the dares
because I can’t risk
having to tell anyone the truth.
Which is that I don’t
actually want to be here.
And that I’d give anything
to be out on a date right now instead—
out on a date
with the boyfriend
that no one even knows I have.
And Then, to Make Matters Worse—
Presley shows up.
And Rose brings him right over
to introduce us.
He smiles at me, swipes his bangs out of his eyes,
and says, “Oh, we’ve already met. We’re in
photography together. Isn’t Mr. L cool?”
I answer that yes, Mr. L is totally cool.
And Presley says that he likes what he told us
about how our cameras can see things we can’t see.
And while we’re talking, I steal a glance at Rose.
silently mouthing, “I can see things too.”
Just then, Taylor walks up,
and Rose asks him and Presley
if they’d mind scoring us some nachos.
As soon as they head off, she turns to face me.
She crosses her arms over her chest,
but doesn’t say a word.
“Okay. Okay,” I say. “I didn’t tell you we’d met
because this—I knew you’d make a big deal out of it.
Presley’s great. But we’re just friends.”
“Sure you are,” she says with an I-told-you-so grin.
On Saturday Morning
When I come downstairs for breakfast,
Mom’s helping Alice into her jacket.
“I’ve got a sore throat, too, now,”
Alice croaks cheerfully. “Just like Wanda!”
Mom says she’s taking her
to Dr. Gold to see if it’s strep.
She says, “Dad’s out buying doughnuts.
He’ll be back in five minutes.”
My heart begins pounding.
As soon as the front door
swings shut behind them,
I dash upstairs to my room.
I go straight to the window
and peek through the curtain,
trying to calm the flock of butterflies
that’s just flitted into my stomach.
I watch as Mom bundles Alice into the car.
Then, the second they drive away,
I race to my door, yank it open—
and there’s Luke,
standing right in front of me
with this huge grin on his face.
He says he’s sorry Alice isn’t feeling well.
But not that sorry.
He Gathers Me into His Arms
And kisses me with such force
that our teeth crash together.
He’s breathing hard,
pressing his hips against mine.
And when I feel the effect
I’m having on him,
it’s like I’ve morphed
into Super Lily or something—
like there’s this strange new power
coursing
through my veins . . .
Then We Hear a Car
Dad!
Luke wrenches his lips away,
and grips me by my upper arms,
his dark eyes drilling into mine.
“What are you doing tonight?”
he whispers urgently.
“I’m . . . I’m sleeping over at Rose’s,” I say.
He leans in
for one more kiss—
a kiss so passionate it almost hurts.
Then he pulls back and murmurs,
“I know a beautiful spot . . . A spot
where we could kiss like this all night.”
And somehow, by the time
Dad walks through the front door,
Luke and I have come up with a plan.
He gives me one more fierce kiss,
then heads downstairs,
as calm as anything,
while I waft into my room,
and ease the door shut behind me,
my whole body vibrating.
Geometry’s Usually So Easy for Me
But when you’ve just arranged
a secret rendezvous,
it’s impossible to focus
on your homework,
to concentrate on acute angles
instead of on your soul mate’s cute ones,
to think about anything except
how incredibly much you love him,
and about the fact
that if all goes as planned tonight,
the two of you will finally be able
to be alone for hours,
and your only chaperone
will be the man in the moon . . .
I let my fingers glide
over the smooth green stones
of the necklace I never take off,
and drift into a delicious daydream . . .
Then—Wham!
My bedroom door flies open.
Alice zooms in and starts
bouncing up and down on my bed.
“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” I growl.
Alice stops bouncing.
Her lower lip trembles.
She looks so flushed and feverish.
“I’m sorry, Lilybelle,” she rasps.
“But knocking takes too long.
And I needed to tell you the big news.”
She flops down next to me, swiping at a tear.
Now I feel like a total jerk.
“Aw, that’s okay,” I say. “You’ll understand