“Hot date with the newspaper guy?” My dad slid me a sideways glance. He and my mother had been quietly jubilant the last few weeks; they were relieved, I thought, that their daughter was finally doing something other teenage girls did. They’d met Jake before, of course, and they liked him.
“Uh, actually no.” I frowned, trying to stay cool, even while my heart began to pound. “It’s Leo.”
The text was short and more than a little cryptic.
Meet me at the old playground. Please. I need you.
“Everything okay?” My father was watching me carefully over his tablet, where he’d been skimming an on-line newspaper.
“I don’t know.” I stared at the screen of the phone, as though an explanation might appear there. “He wants me to meet him at the playground.” I lifted my eyes to meet my dad’s. “It sounds serious. I think I’ll walk over there, okay?”
My father studied me in silence for a few seconds. “Sure. Take your phone, and don’t go by the shortcut—stay on the main sidewalk. And text me when you get there.”
“Daddy, you do realize I go places all the time? By myself? I’m seventeen. I’ve been walking to that playground since I was nine.”
“Yeah, but it’s dark. You always made that walk during the day. So humor your old man, and promise you’ll text, or I’ll be forced to drive the streets of our neighborhood, slowly, yelling your name out my open car windows. Your full name.”
He’d do it, too. I shuddered at the thought.
“All right, all right. I promise. I’ll send you a text the moment I’m there safely with Leo.”
“Hmm.” He still didn’t look convinced. “I’m not sure I like you hanging out at an empty park late at night with a boy.”
“Dad, come on. It’s not that late. I’m not roaming the streets at midnight. And this is Leo. You’ve known him longer than you’ve known me. Twenty-one days longer, to be exact.”
“He’s still a boy.”
“Oh, Bill, let her be.” My mother had come downstairs and into the kitchen without either of us hearing her. She was wearing yoga pants and a thin long-sleeved T-shirt ... inside out. Her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were ruddy. I decided not to think about it.
“But Carrie—”
“It’s Leo.” My mom’s eyes met mine, and in them I read her understanding. “She’ll be fine. He’ll probably even walk her back here after. Let her go so she can get back at a decent time.” She sidled up to my dad, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling his neck. “I could probably have second helpings of that beef, now that I worked off the first round.”
“Aaaaand on that note, I’m out of here.” I stamped into the foyer where I stopped to slip on a jacket from the front closet. “You two ... behave yourselves. Watch TV and ignore each other, like other parents.”
I went through the door, shutting it behind me and pausing just outside to answer Leo’s text.
On my way.
