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“What?” I look up at him, my tears clearing and dread and regret quickly replacing my anger and sorrow.
He is glaring at me when I am finally able to meet his eyes.
“I had a present for you. I can’t believe you thought I’d cheat on you. With one of your best friends. At a game that I knew you were watching. After the conversation we’d had the night before. Is that really what you think of me?” He sounds so hurt.
I groan, feeling like a jerk.
“Dean,
I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I just . . .” I trail off.
“You just don’t trust me,” he says, his voice flat, devoid of its ire.
I reach out for his arm.
“No, it’s not that Dean. You wouldn’t understand. I’m . . .”
“Help me understand, please. Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than you thinking I am a lying, cheating asshole,” he says leaning against the wall of the hallway, looking away from me. I grab his arm to implore him to understand.
“Dean, you’re Mr. Popular. Everyone wants you. And I know half the school is wondering what you’re doing with me. Ms. Nobody,” I say, feeling small and vulnerable. I never wanted him to know I felt this way.
He turns his body to face me, and grabs my chin, forcing my eyes up to his.
“Milly, anyone who’s wondering that doesn’t have eyes. And since when have you cared what people say or think? You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. And the smartest and the funniest. And the kindest.” His eyes search mine, the anger in them gone and replaced with tenderness.
“I’ve never told anyone I loved them before you, Red. And I meant it. Do I want us to have sex? Yes, of course I do, I’m seventeen. But I don’t want that more than I want you in my life. So, I meant it when I said we’d wait until you were ready.”
He pulls me into him and hugs me to his chest.
Relief rushes through me and I burrow my nose into his sweater. Smelling that familiar comforting smell of soap, fabric softener and Dean.
“I’m sorry, D,” I mumble into his chest.
He pushes me back away from him. “What was that, I didn’t hear you?” A teasing grin covers his face.
I roll my eyes and smile in self-deprecation. I know I deserve that. I am just so relieved that what I saw wasn’t what I thought and that he’s forgiving me so easily for treating him shabbily over the weekend.
“I’m sorry, D. Very sorry,” I say again, louder this time.
“Buy me a burger at Fuddrucker’s and all will be forgiven.”
I wrap my arm around his waist and steer us back down the hall.
“Deal. You’re a cheap date,” I quip.
He stops us in our tracks. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asks, peering down at me.
“You’re the best lacrosse player in Houston?” I say, not sure what he’s getting at.
He rolls his eyes and reaches into his pocket. “I told you I bought you a present, Red.”
I smile sheepishly. “You still want to give it to me?” I feel bad taking it now.
“Of course.” He pulls out a little piece of tissue paper, like the kind that comes in gift bags, but it’s the size of a quarter and hands it to me.
I smile at him shyly as I unwrap it.
I gasp when I get it open and look up at him. “It’s so beautiful.” It’s a ring, a simple silver wring. Its thin band interrupted by a hollow heart right in the middle.
