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He laughs. “I mean, it really depends on where you go. The north and the south are very different. Throw in LA and San Francisco, and they might as well be on different planets from my hometown.”
“So, what did you do on this trip then?”
He leans my way to match my engagement level and stares in my eyes for a brief moment before he says, “My grandpa just passed away, so I was helping my dad go through his house and get it ready to sell.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
He sighs. “Yeah. It was pretty hard on my dad. Going through all his stuff was cool though. The history of his war days, my grandma—who I never really knew—and all the stuff from my dad, growing up, were neat to see.”
I look at Beau in a different light as he goes on to tell me a story about having all the letters that his dad sent to his grandparents while he was in Vietnam. There’s something so real about him as he talks about the pictures and how he couldn’t imagine going through everything his dad did. The sincerity in his voice makes me like him even more.
No matter how much I’ve tried to fight it, I still have feelings for Beau, and sitting here, listening to him talk, I realize just how screwed I am if this is how this semester is going to go.
“Remember you need to find a way to combine your stories to present to the class,” our teacher yells out.
“Well, we can talk about the yin and yang of our vacations. You went to California; I stayed here. You got to see your dad, who you never get to see, while I only have my dad and will never see my mom again.”
He reaches out and grabs my hand at my statement, and I realize how cavalier that sounded.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I look down at our hands and notice he’s not moving his away from mine. When my eyes meet his, he gives me a slight grin, so I continue, “I was just listing off facts.”
He squeezes my hand, and I instantly feel the sincerity he means with this simple touch. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I push them away—something I’ve gotten used to doing when I talk about my mom.
Instead, I continue with my list of our vacations, “You got to learn all about the history of your family while I curled up and watched the History Channel stories of Santa Claus.”
“Did you really watch that?” he interrupts me in my listing of items.
I smile proudly. “I actually did, and it was very interesting, thank you,” I state, not ashamed that I enjoy watching the History Channel.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not judging one bit. It does sound interesting actually.”
I grin, and he instantly puts his hand back over mine, but this time, he turns it over to intertwine our fingers a little more.
We finish going over what we’re going to say. I volunteer to stand up to give our presentation, which goes smoothly, and before I know it, the teacher moves on to the next group.
I sit back down next to Beau, and he leans over, whispering to me, “Good job.”
“Thank you,” I whisper back.
Since he never moved his chair back, he grabs my hand again, and we sit like that for the rest of the class.
Once the bell rings, he stops me before we exit the class and pulls me to the side, away from everyone.
In shock, I blink as I look up into his eyes. He stares at me for a few breaths, and I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully, so I give him all the time he needs.
“It’s been a year since I ended it with Megan,” he states firmly.
I swallow hard and nod.
“More than a year actually,” he continues. “I’ve tried to forget about you. I’ve tried to move on, only to realize I don’t want to. There is something about you that I can’t get out of my head. Please”—he tucks my hair behind my ear—“can we finally give us a chance?”
I don’t have to think twice as I reach up and wrap my arms around the back of his neck and pull him into me, kissing him like I’ve wanted to for the last year.
A little growl escapes his lips as he wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the ground to deepen our kiss.
It’s not until we hear our teacher clear her throat that we break apart and run out of the room. In the hallway, he pushes me against the locker and kisses me again.
I know I should worry about who can see us, but I really don’t care right now. All I can think about is how I’ve fought this feeling for long enough. I’m sorry if it hurts anyone, but it’s time I get what I want.
