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And as I drop her off with a goodbye hug, words of love, and instructions to have Shaylee’s mom help her call if she needs me for anything, no matter how big or small.
And as I go back home with a fluttery stomach.
In the middle of stressing about whether or not I should put my fifty-cent lipstick on, I wonder if I should back out of the whole thing. Spend the night by myself on my couch. Keep Landon away.
Then the loud thought,No, I don’t want to do that,blares through my mind.
I notice how firm the expression of my reflection is, and I nod at her.
“You’re going. You want to. You want to spend this time with him. He’s amazing.” After I clear my throat, I add, “As a friend.”
And I put the lipstick on.
However, I don’t go for the dress I paired with it last time. It’s been cool outside today, so I put on jeans and a soft gray sweater. Then I look at myself in the mirror again and find my expression bright with excitement.
I tug at the ends of my long hair.
“You look pretty,” I whisper.
Ifeelpretty.
I decide I also feel ready for 6 to arrive, because I’m ready to see Landon. I’m ready to get this night started.
It’s going to be awesome.
God, when I answer his knock at my door, I see helooksawesome. But of course he does, huh? He would look good covered in mud.
Shut up. Don’t start drooling over him. Don’t make this awkward and stupid.
But he tells me I look awesome, too, with easy green eyes, and I tell him how much I like his shirt even though it’s just a plain black long-sleeved thing. We end up standing so close in the elevator that our arms brush, and there’s no way for me to pretend I don’t notice him smiling bigger as we chat, no way to pretend I don’tlikeit, no way I can help smiling bigger, too. And it’snotawkward. It’snotstupid. It’s just us.
Just us listening to music in his car while I tell him about my last hour with Rae.
Just us standing in line at what is allegedly the best burger place in town, close once again as we look at the mouthwatering menu.
Just us sitting at a small two-person table in a corner, finally talking about his dad.
“I’m okay,” he sighs after he details all the thinking he’s been doing on the matter. His eyes are calm, and so is the smile he curves at me. “It was a bunch of shit, but I’ve finally decided I’m okay.”
Friend-like only,I remind myself before I reach over and give his hand a squeeze.
Friend-like only,I repeat as he turns his hand slightly to squeeze mine back.
“I’m so happy to hear that,” I tell him. “I’ve really been hating the idea of you being hurt.” I want to brush my thumb over the star tattooed inside his wrist—I want to do it so badly I have to keep talking to distract myself. “But if you ever decide you aren’t okay, that’s fine and you know I’ll be here. I’m always here. You can tell me anything, anytime.”
His smile grows. “I know.”
I nod and smile, too.
A guy with a mohawk shows up with our food, so we let go of each other’s hand. “Here we go! Two triple-bacon burgers, fully loaded, with seasoned fries.” As he takes our order number from the tall thing on our table, he adds, “You guys should go grab a couple pumpkin ales to go with this. It’s seasonal only and it’skilleron tap.” He points over to the variety of draft beers behind the front counter.
“Thanks, man!” Landon says.
After the guy is gone, I muse, “Pumpkin beer.”
Landon nods and points a fry toward the counter. “Yeah, we have that kind at the bar. Tastes like pumpkin pie.”
My mouth falls open. “What? How neat!”
