about privacy when you’re older.”
I hug her and ask her to tell me her news.
“I’ve been strepped!” she rasps.
“Just like Wanda!”
She looks deliriously happy about this.
Or maybe just delirious.
“Wow,” I say. “You’re twins!”
And after Mom feeds her some chicken soup,
Alice and I snuggle on the couch, acting out
“ballets” with the animals Luke gave her.
All except for the leopard—
which Alice claims she lost.
After the Animals Take Their Final Bows
Alice rests her head on my shoulder
and falls asleep.
That’s when I become aware
of the conversation in the kitchen.
Luke’s telling Dad that he’s going out
with Amber again tonight.
“I’ve got a feeling I might get lucky,” he says.
“So don’t worry if I don’t come home.”
Suddenly,
it’s a little hard for me to breathe.
Because Luke’s not really
spending the night with Amber.
But telling my dad that he is,
is step #1 of our plan.
And when I think about who he might
actually be spending the night with,
it gets even harder
to breathe.
Because It Just Dawned on Me
That when Luke and I
came up with our plan,
we didn’t have time
to talk about what we’d do.
He did mention
kissing all night.
But what if he’s expecting
to do more than that?
What if he thinks
I’m more experienced than I am?
(i.e.:
not at all.)
I feel a little dizzy—
like I might faint or something.
Man.
I have got to get a grip.
What I Pack in My Overnight Bag:
My toothbrush,
my toothpaste, my new camera,
my reddest lipstick,
and my clingy green dress,
the one that matches
my tsavorite necklace.
Then I tuck in my laciest bra.
Then I take it back out.
Then I shove it back in.
Then I yank it back out again.
Will Luke see me in this tonight?
Am I ready to go to second base?
I have no clue.
But I stuff the bra back into the bag,
slip in my copy of Rebecca,
and zip it up
before I can change
my mind.
When Mom Drops Me Off at Rose’s
I walk
in the door,
and get right to the point.
“Will you guys be my alibis tonight?” I say.
They exchange a quick glance,
then squeal with delight.
“Do our ears deceive us?” Taylor gasps.
“Are you actually gonna do something naughty
for once in your life?”
“Oh my God,” Rose says. “It’s Presley, isn’t it?”
“Tell all,” Taylor says. “Immediately.
It’s a need-to-know situation.”
So I swallow hard and then explain
that it isn’t Presley, it’s the older guy I’ve been
crushing on—he’s finally asked me out.
“Exactly how old is this guy?” Taylor says.
“Old enough to have a midlife crisis?” Rose says.
“Old enough to wear adult diapers?” Taylor says.
And then they both crack up.
“Ha. Ha,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Seriously, though,” Taylor says.
“How old is he?”
The Question Hangs in the Air Like Smoke
I wish
I could just tell them the truth.
But they’d go bonkers if they knew
how old Luke really is.
“Um . . . Not that old,” I say.
“He’s . . . He’s only twenty-four.”
“Whoa . . . ,” Rose says. “He’s almost
twice your age. That dude’s messed up.”
“I don’t think that’s even legal,” Taylor says,
bugging out his eyes at me.
“He must be some kind of freak,” Rose says.
“He’s not a freak,” I protest. “He’s amazing.”
But they just fold their arms
over their chests,
and refuse to cover for me.
They say anyone that old
who wants to date someone my age
must have some serious issues.
“What are you guys?” I ask. “My parents?”
“No,” Rose says, putting her hand on my arm.
“We’re your best friends. Who love you.”
“And who’d never forgive ourselves,” Taylor adds,
“if you ended up in a ditch somewhere.”
I Feel Like Screaming at Them
And telling them they’re being idiots.
But I will myself to stay calm.
“Come on, guys,” I say.
“He’s not a serial killer. He’s just . . . older.”
“He’s not just ‘older,’” Taylor says.
“He’s practically a pedophile.”
“Yeah,” Rose says.
“The guy’s a perv.”
It’s obvious I’m not gonna
be able to change their minds.
So I sigh and say,
“I guess you’re right.”
Even though they’re as far from right
as anyone has ever been
in the entire history
of the universe.
Luke is not a perv.
He’s not like that at all.
I Wait Just Long Enough
So that it won’t
seem suspicious.
Then I tell them I have to pee,
and head upstairs to the bathroom.
I pull apart
the curtains,
and flash the lights
on and off three times.
And a few seconds later,
when I look down the block
and watch Luke’s car
drive away,
a little piece of my heart
goes with it.
I Don’t Want to Be Here
I’d call my parents
and ask them to come and get me,
if I could handle all Mom’s questions.
Or the fact that Dad
wouldn’t even bother
to ask me any.
I’m so pissed at Taylor and Rose
for ruining what might have been
the best night ever.
Though I mean, a part of me gets it—
they only refused to cover for me
because they care about me.
So I don’t want them to feel guilty.
Which is why I try not to mope around,
acting like my life is over.
But it takes
just about every speck
of strength I have.
Because I seriously doubt
that anyone on earth has ever felt
more like their life is over
than I do right now.
It’s Exhausting
Fending off all of my friends’
prying questions about Luke,
exhausting listening to them go on and on
about why dating him is such an awful idea,
exhausting pretending to be okay,
when I am the opposite of okay.
So it’s a huge relief when they
finally nod off.
; I grab my backpack
and reach for Rebecca,
desperate to escape my own reality
and lose myself in Mrs. de Winter’s.
But then I see my lacy bra,
balled up in the bottom of the bag,
right next to the beautiful camera
that Luke gave me.
And suddenly I miss him so much,
it feels like my chest is cracking in two.
In the Morning
The sun streams in
through a gap in the curtains
and warms me awake.
For a few minutes,
I just lie here,
floating in the golden glow of it . . .
But then I remember—
I remember what didn’t
happen last night.
I run my fingers over
the stones on my necklace,
a river of tears rising in me.
Ugh. I don’t want Taylor and Rose
to see me crying . . . But when I glance around
the room, I realize they aren’t here.
And just then,
they burst in with a plateful of bacon
and hold it right under my nose.
“Even people dating pervs gotta eat,” Taylor says.
“Yeah,” Rose says with a sympathetic smile.
So I force a smile of my own
and manage to choke down a strip.
Then
While Rose finishes
the last few pages of Wuthering Heights,
I shoot some portraits of Taylor.
He keeps striking all these goofy poses,
in a not-so-subtle attempt to cheer me up.
So I do my best to pretend it’s working.
But I get so into trying to capture
how the sun lights up his eyes,
that after a while I really do get cheered up.
A few minutes later,
Rose slams her book shut,
and clutches it to her chest.
“Gah,” she says. “Catherine never
should have wasted all those years on Edgar
when she was so in love with Heathcliff.”
“Let me guess,” Taylor says.
“Heathcliff was . . . a redhead?”
Rose flings the book at him.
“I’m fresh out of love stories,” she says,
tugging me up off her bed.
“Let’s go to Bella’s.”
But By the Time We Get There
My sadness is back, weighing me down
like a jacket made of lead.
I slip on my I’m-totally-fine-
you-don’t-have-to-worry-about-me mask.
But Bella isn’t fooled.
She takes one look at me,
rests her palms on my shoulders,
and says, “This too shall pass, my darling.”
Then she reaches behind the counter
and hands me a book.
It’s hard not to start sobbing
when I see the title: Love Finds a Way.
She wraps her arms around me
and strokes my hair.
“It does,” she murmurs.
“If it’s meant to be.”
Funny word—“if.”
So tiny, but so enormous.
Before We Leave
I ask Bella if I can take her picture.
She balances a stack of books on her head
and grins at me.
I snap a bunch of different shots,
until I’ve captured it all—her humor,
her sparkle, and her kindness.
Then she lifts the books off her head.
“I’ll be right here,” she says,
“when you’re ready to talk about it.”
And as we head out of the shop,
I realize there’s a lump
the size of a lemon in my throat.
Taylor and Rose each take hold
of one of my hands and walk me down
the block to the ice cream shop.
But it’s not until I take
my first bite of rocky road
that I notice my throat feels even rockier.
Oh no . . .
This isn’t a lump in my throat.
I’ve been strepped.
I Text Mom to Tell Her I’m Sick
And fifteen minutes later,
when Dad comes to pick me up,
I’m starting to feel
like I’ve been hit by a truck.
I’ve got chills, my whole body aches,
and there’s a brush fire raging in my throat.
I wish Dad could lift me up
and carry me to the car.
But I’m not
a little girl anymore.
And he hardly ever picked me up,
even when I was.
When we get home and walk in the door,
there’s Luke—
snuggling on the couch with Alice,
reading her the Sunday comics.
He looks up, and our eyes lock.
Just long enough
for our secrets to pass between us.
Alice Leaps Up
And dashes over to me,
with Luke right behind her.
She hugs me and says, “I’m sorry
I strepped you. But now we’re twins too!”
“That’s okay,” I say,
patting her tangled curls.
“Our poor lovely Lily,” Luke says.
“So sorry you’re under the weather.”
He’s looking at me like he wishes
he could hug me too.
Like there’s so many things
he’d be saying to me right now,
so many things
he’d be doing to me right now,
if only
we were alone.
(Which would probably really turn me on
if I weren’t feeling like the walking dead.)
When Your Mother
Won’t stop brewing you cups
of chamomile tea
and taking your temperature
and plumping up your pillows,
right when you want to feel
more grown up
than you
ever have before,
it makes you feel
like screaming.
Only you can’t.
Because your throat hurts too much.
After a Nap, I’m Feeling a Little Better
Well enough to go downstairs and watch
Alice in Wonderland with my sister.
Well enough to hope that Luke
will come and sit by me on the couch.
And he does. Almost instantly.
He snuggles down
under the blanket with Alice and me,
then secretly presses his thigh to mine.
If I didn’t have a fever already,
this definitely would’ve given me one.
But a second later, Mom comes in
from the kitchen and shoos him away.
“Better not sit so close to Lily,” she says.
“She’ll be contagious till tomorrow
when the antibiotics kick in.”
“Excellent point, Julia,” he says.
Then he gets up,
letting his hand brush
against my knee for a split second,
before he moves over to the rocking chair.
When I Wake Up on Monday
My throat feels like it’s lined with gravel.
I take a sip of orange juice
and wince at the sting.
Dad pats my head,
tells me to rest up,
and dashes off to work.
Alice has been cleared to go to school.
“Feel better soon,” she says,
blowing me a kiss.
“It’s lucky you’re such
a great student, Lilybelle,” Mom says.
�
��Missing one day of classes won’t hurt you.”
She gives me a quick hug,
and thanks Luke for volunteering
to take care of me while she’s at the gallery.
“Please don’t find an apartment anytime soon,”
she calls as she hurries Alice out the door.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Luke.”
And as soon as they drive away,
he’s behind me—
wrapping his arms around me.
He Nuzzles the Nape of my Neck
And says, “You weren’t faking, were you?
So we could be alone together?
Please tell me you were faking.”
“That would’ve been genius,” I croak,
as I lean back against him.
“But it really does hurt.”
“Well,” he says,
letting his lips brush my ear,
“then I guess we shouldn’t kiss.
But there are
other things
we can do.
We can’t let
this stroke of good fortune
slip through our fingers.”
It’s hard to think
of feeling this crappy
as a stroke of good fortune.
But I know
he didn’t mean it
like that.
When Luke Said
That there were
other things we could do,
I knew he was talking about more
than just holding each other close.
I figured he meant
going to second base.
And now, as he takes me by the hand
and leads me off,
I’m ready
for that to happen.
I’m ready to let
the man I love touch me
where no one
has ever touched me before.
Luke Steers Me Toward the Living Room
I hesitate in the doorway,
my stomach clenching—
all the walls in there
are covered with family photos,
Mom and Dad smiling at me
from every single one of them.
“Um . . . I think I’d rather
go to your room,” I rasp.
But he just laughs and says getting
caught in bed together would be a disaster.
He says you never know when someone
might come home unexpectedly.