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“I’m dating you. That means I carry your books.”
Her lips lifted into a shy, almost disbelieving smile. “I thought that only happened in the movies.”
“You are a star,” I half-joked, my hand still extended.
She slipped her backpack off her shoulders and rested a strap in my hand.
“Dang, girl, this is heavy. Are you sure you didn’t add rocks or something?”
“Some of us have to study to keep our grades up,” she replied, adjusting the lapel of her uniform blazer.
She had a point. If I spent more time studying, I probably could have gotten better grades, but then I would have missed out on the fun parts of life—surfing, hanging out with friends, playing football on Friday nights.
Abueloalways said, “Life is to enjoy.” I agreed with him wholeheartedly.
“How was your night?” I asked her as we reached the stairs. I took them at her pace, not in any hurry.
“Sadie and I went to get milkshakes.” Her cheeks turned slightly red, making me curious.
“You wanted to talk about me, didn’t you?” I teased.
“No!” she said way too quickly.
“Uh huh, that was convincing.”
“Now I’m remembering why I hated you,” she replied drily.
My laugh came naturally. “I don’t know why I didn’t like you. You’re adorable when you’re mad.”
Her cheeks turned redder, making me smile even more. She really was cute.
We reached the top of the stairs, and she said, “I can take my bag back if you want.”
“Why?” I asked. This thing really was heavy.
She glanced down at the ground, giving me a view of the twisted bun atop her head. “I didn’t know if you’d want to be... associated with me.”
Okay, now I really was confused. “Why would you say that?”
She bit her lip, looking up at me now with wide brown eyes. “Are you going to make me say it out loud?”
I had an idea of where she was going, and I didn’t like it one bit. I thought we’d squashed this doubt back on the beach. “Why should I be embarrassed to be with you?”
She paused as someone walked by us, then whispered, “Because I’m not your type!”
My head jerked back. “Really? Because I thought I was the one who decided that.”
“I mean the kind of girl people expect you to be with. Like Kenzie. I mean, it’s one thing hanging out with friends, but the whole school? I want you to be sure.”
I hated that she compared herself to Kenzie. Hated that she couldn’t see how hot her curves were and how captivating her personality was. But most of all, I hated that for whatever screwed up reason our society had led her to believe she wasn’t worthy of a relationship with whoever she pleased.
So I wanted to make myself very clear. I stepped closer to her, leaving barely an inch between our bodies, and angled my face down to look her in those ocean-blue eyes. “You, April Adams, are exactly my type,” I said, my voice husky with the desire to kiss every doubt, every argument away from those beautiful lips. “Now let me carry your bag inside.”
I half expected her to argue; instead, she slipped her fingers through mine.
We walked through the door into the building, and for the first time, I felt like theAd Meliorainscription was correct. This was the better thing I had been waiting for.
Eyes turned toward us in the hallway. A few people waved at me, and I lifted my chin in recognition. I wanted April to see me be proud of her—she was good enough, she belonged exactly where she was, her hand clasped to mine.
