Page 9 of The Last Thing You Said

The Clarks, my dad, and Shay turn to go down to the beach, but Simon stays behind.

He’s definitely cute.

He’s staring at me.

I’m having trouble looking away, my eyes locked on his intense green ones. Why is he staring at me?

Dr Pepper smiles. “Your place is really nice.”

“Thanks . . . well, um, I should go,” I say, but I don’t move. I stand there and look up at him, and when he grins at me, I can’t help it. I smile back.

“Have fun,” he says.

“Did you know there’s no period in Dr?” I ask, still not moving.

“What?” His eyes narrow in confusion.

I point at his shirt. “Dr Pepper. No period in Dr. We learned about it in history. The period was dropped in the 1950s, but I can’t remember why.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I can feel my cheeks flame. Why do I have to be such a dork? No period in Dr Pepper. Honestly.

He’s still smiling, though, and then he says, “You know, I wasn’t really sure how I felt about leaving my friends for the summer and living up here in the middle of nowhere. Now that I’ve met you, things are definitely looking up.”

“Uhh.” Good one.

“I like you,” he says. “You’re spunky.”

No one’s ever called me spunky before.

“I really have to go. My friend’ll be here soon and—”

“I’ll keep you company while you wait,” he says.

I bite back a smile.

We walk around the front of the house and sit on the porch steps. I pull out my cell phone. Hannah should be here by now. I’ll give her five minutes before I call her to make sure she’s okay.

Simon’s sitting close, close enough that I can feel the heat from his pale arms, covered with fine blond hairs. His fingers are long, some smudged blue and black.

Why am I inspecting his fingers?

I look up. The smile hasn’t left his face. He smells good, like oil paints and something spicy, a hint of cologne.

“What are you up to tonight?” His voice is warm and friendly.

“Movie.”

“There’s a theater in town?”

“Yeah,” I say. “We may be a small town, but we do have a movie theater.”

“Thank God,” he says. “How many screens?”

“One.”

He laughs, and I like the sound of it. “Seriously?”

“The theater was built in 1919. It’s kind of a big deal.”