Chapter Thirteen Daisy #2
our stuff on a big flat rock that’s hidden from view. I sit at the edge of the rock with my feet in the icy water, leaning
back on my arms. Mateo sits down a couple of feet behind me. The sun filters down through the canopy, and the air smells like
the woods, like the river, like childhood. It’s magical.
“Wow, this place is incredible,” Mateo murmurs.
“My dad always took us here because he could fish while Georgia and I splashed around in the shallow pools, even before we
could swim.”
“He sounds like such a good dad,” Mateo says.
“Yeah. We were lucky.”
“My dad probably thinks of himself as this great father,” Mateo muses. “He was always working, but he’d show up at tennis
tournaments and soccer games on the weekends. Putting in face time with the other parents. But it was all a show, you know?”
I turn to look at him. “Not really, no.”
“Like . . .” Mateo pauses, searching for the words. “He was auditioning for the role of the Good Dad in public. But at home,
he was just an asshole. He was cold and disinterested. And honestly, when the scandal hit, I wasn’t even that surprised. I
was more. . . freaked out about what it would mean for me and my brothers and my mom.”
“What did it mean for you guys?” I ask.
Mateo hasn’t really opened up to me like this before, about what happened with his dad.
“Well, my older brother dropped out of school. He went to LA to become an actor. So far, he’s only booked a couple of commercials.
But he’s got the face for it. He’ll probably succeed. He’s the handsome one in the family.”
I laugh. “You have an older brother who’s the ‘handsome one’? I have trouble believing that.”
Mateo just sighs. “I used to be so jealous of him. But we’re very different.”
“How did your mom handle things?”
“Swore off men completely, but I don’t think she liked men much before anyway. We were okay. My mom’s family back in Italy
helped us out a lot. Financially, I mean. We didn’t have to move. But trust me, there were plenty of times where I wished
we had. Everyone knew, ya know? That part was so brutal. So embarrassing. And I was just angry, all the fucking time.”
“Are you still?” I ask. “Angry, I mean.”
He sighs. “Yeah? I guess I am. But I try not to think about that dipshit any more than I have to.”
We’re quiet for a moment and then I say, “Thanks for telling me about it.”
“It’s easy to tell you things, Daisy. You’re a cool girl, you know that?”
I smile and watch him smile back, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “I am? Like how?”
He shrugs. “Your energy. It relaxes me. You’re very yourself. Very confident. It’s not a common thing to find.”
“It’s not?”
“Not in my experience,” he says.
“Which is, from what I understand, vast.”
He laughs that off.
“Seriously, though, Mateo. You’ve dated a lot of girls.”
“Who cares?” he says with a shrug. “It means nothing.”
“I’m not insecure about it. I mean, not exactly. It’s just, I probably seem really inexperienced.” Thankfully, my new hat
is shading my face, hopefully hiding how embarrassing it was to say that out loud.
“Come here,” he says.
I scooch backward on the rock so that I’m beside him. He tilts back my hat and kisses me. It’s smooth and slow, and I feel
my entire body tingling like it does every time we kiss, every time he touches me.
“I like you the way you are,” he whispers.
“Okay,” I whisper back, deciding to trust him. Because why shouldn’t I?
We kiss some more, and he runs his hand through the open side of my overalls, against my bare skin. I arch my back, nervous
and excited at the same time. There’s part of me that wants to take off my overalls and lie down on this rock in only my bathing
suit with Mateo, but I’m also afraid . . .
Afraid of what it would lead to. Not that we would do it, out here in the open. But when I’m with Mateo I start to lose all sense of what’s realistic, of what might happen next. That’s what’s so intoxicating and also so confusing about this.
“Mateo,” I whisper, pulling back.
He groans softly. “What?”
“I’m just . . . I’m worried.”
He furrows his brow. “About what?”
I say nothing, trying to find the right words.
He leans back on his hands. “Tell me. What are you worrying about? You don’t need to worry with me.”
“I don’t?”
He shakes his head. “Of course not.”
“Okay, well . . . I don’t think I’m ready. To, ya know.”
It takes a second to register, and then he laughs, and shrugs. “Oh, like, that. Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that. Like at all. I promise.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
I practically throw myself at him then, and we fall back onto the rock, with his arms around me. “Thank you for getting it.”
“It’s all good, Daisy. You’re younger than me. I’m not stupid. I just like . . . spending time with you. It doesn’t have to
lead to anything more.”
I feel so relieved. He’s not disappointed that I’m inexperienced. That I’m not ready for, like . . . sex. Which he’s probably done multiple times. With multiple people. Which I can’t think too much about right now.
I nuzzle my face into his T-shirt and breathe in the smell of it.
“Seriously, Daisy. You’ve made this summer so much better for me. I wasn’t in a great place. And I know it’s only been a week, but I’m really, really glad I met you.”
“You mean, re-met me,” I remind him.
“Oh, right. Yeah.”
“I’m really glad too,” I say.
He lifts my chin, and we kiss again. And I start to understand what people mean when they say they melt into each other. I can’t help but feel like there’s some strange twist of fate to all this. Some reason why Owen friend-zoned
me right at the start of the summer, and why Mateo and I met again here, and even why Rhys has barely been around, leaving
Mateo in need of someone to spend his free time with.
And even though it seems crazy to me, and I know I’m not ready yet, I can really see a world in the not-too-distant future where I am ready for more . . .
For . . . all the things.
With him.