Chapter 26
Tate
“Look, Gabriella, I really like him.” Flush.
“Where are you?” she asks.
I excused myself to the restroom after my impromptu running and jumping into Levi’s arms, but that’s where it stopped.
We might be in Los Angeles, but this is no movie.
I look at the etchings in the plastic door in front of me: Molly loves James, Hi, and Call for a good time with an accompanying phone number. No, I’m not joking.
“Tate, are you there?”
I switch the phone to my other ear. “Yeah, I’m here.”
Gabriella has been gone for barely twenty-four hours and I feel lost. “What do I do?”
“About liking him?”
“Yessss,” I answer, dragging the word out.
“I’m not going to give you the birds-and-bees talk right now, if that’s what you’re—” There is a crumpling sound like the phone is being moved through fabric.
I hear, “Yes, for two. Great, thank you.” The phone and I are then yanked from whatever dark abyss we were put into. “You still there, Tate?”
“I don’t need you to tell me about sex. That won’t be happening. Hey, where are you?”
“I’m on a date.”
“HOW!” I yell into the receiver, making the girl in the stall next to me jump. “You’ve been there for all of a day,” I whisper-yell.
“I work fast, which is why you only have two more minutes of my attention. Why aren’t we having sex with Levi? That boy’s body is...”
“Don’t finish that sentence, please,” I beg.
“Okay, but why?”
“Why do I not want to hear you use what I’m sure is very colorful vocabulary to describe the body of the person I like?”
“No. Why no sex?”
The question hangs between us among the background noise of someone yanking paper towels from the dispenser.
It’s not like I’m ashamed or embarrassed.
I made the decision a long time ago to wait until marriage, but it’s also not something I go around informing people of.
I once told a “friend” in high school, and by fourth period the entire school knew, and I was dubbed Virgin Tate.
I didn’t get asked on dates or to dances, which, I mean.
..good riddance, but also it was lonely.
“Tate, I have to go, but this conversation is far from over.” Gabriella’s tone is now motherly. “Talk to him. He likes you just as much as you like him. Whatever it is, I’m sure he would understand.”
“How am I supposed to talk to him about HIM!” I whisper-yell.
“Gotta go!”
Dang it! I pull myself up to a stand and unlatch the door. I’m greeted by my reflection; except she’s wearing all black. Tell him how you feel. I nod once to myself before heading out the swinging door of the restroom.
What happened next is really hard to explain. There were a lot of flashes and yelling. I heard my name crumpled with Levi’s.
“Tate, look this way!”
“Tate, is this your first date with Levi?”
“Tate! Levi!”
Then he’s there. Swooping me up and pushing through the crowd.
I press my face into his neck, feeling his pulse hammer beneath the thin skin there.
In a moment, the light shifts and we’re out of the arcade into the afternoon sun.
I wish I could say the place has cleared out and we are able to make a run for it, but there are the same amount of people as earlier, if not more.
It’s no secret that Levi is in great shape, but the way he bobs and weaves through the crowd while holding me is nothing short of impressive.
At the street’s edge, Levi slows his pace into a fast walk, somehow managing to request an Uber in one hand while holding me up with the other.
“We need to go somewhere away from here but where a car can find us.”
I press away from his chest in a silent request to let me down and he loosens his grip. My body slides down the front of his until my feet touch the ground. I hold his waist for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. “What about the breakfast spot up ahead?”
He looks where I’m looking and then once more behind us, probably feeling the snapping of photos the same way I am.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” He wraps his hand in mine and we’re running across the street.
The Waffle House is mostly empty. A sweet smell wafts through the air.
At the hostess podium, Levi requests a table away from the windows and explains the situation.
Pam, our waitress, doesn’t even blink at the story.
A Hollywood tale as old as time. She brings us to a back room usually reserved for parties and allows us to wait until our car arrives.
I slide into a chair and watch Levi as he paces the room.
Face tight, he rakes his fingers through his hair.
“You should sit,” I suggest, but he doesn’t hear me. Whatever is going on in his head is clearly too loud.
“Levi!” I say louder once I can’t stand to watch him take another lap. He looks at me like he forgot I was there and then click. I wonder sometimes how deep that portal in his head goes, how scary it must be to be stuck, lodged in one thought with the inability to get yourself out.
“Come sit,” I say softly. He does his best to shake off whatever was keeping him in his head and comes to settle into the seat next to me, except he isn’t settled. His knees are hopping up and down uncontrollably. I slide my hand over the tops of them and he stops, our eyes watching each other.
“Want to tell me why you’re so worked up?”
“I really messed up. We shouldn’t have left, or we at least should have kept our disguises on.”
“Levi, our costumes sucked. We looked like kids dressing up for Halloween. It was fun, but I wasn’t under any illusion that I would be unrecognizable...and who cares.” I shrug inwardly. “You already kissed me on stage. What’s one date at the arcade?”
For a minute, his blue eyes darken to something like blue denim.
“The big deal, Tate, is I put you at risk and I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.” His apology lands somewhere between us as he tips over until his forehead is resting on my shoulder.
Intuitively, I wrap myself around him, hands sweeping up and down his back.
No one talks for a minute. When he pulls back, he stays hovering just above my face.
Bubbles of excitement fizz in the cavity of my chest. His right hand appears out of the corner of my eye before coming to tuck a fallen strand behind my ear, letting his knuckles drag along the line of my jaw until they meet my chin.
He gently pushes upward until he’s angled my face in line with his.
“Tate, you are...”
“Your car’s here!” Pam yells from the doorway in the same intonation she would probably say “Order up!”
Levi’s mouth presses into a tight smile before rising to his feet. He reaches out a hand to help me up before taking careful strides to the main part of the restaurant. Halfway there, he stops abruptly. I look for cameras or threats, but when I don’t see anything, I look back up at him.
“Tate, you’re beautiful, smart, funny, and kind.
Pretty much everything I’m not. If I don’t tell you now, how I feel—” He stops.
“Well, I would probably tell you later too, and I want to keep telling you that as long as you’ll let me.
Can I please kiss you now, here, in the ambience of this very average breakfast spot on the corner of Lincoln Boulevard? I mean, if you—”
I push up on my toes, pressing into his lips, mid speech.
It takes him a second to register what’s happening, but once he does, it’s nothing short of perfect.
My hands find the back of his neck, looping around for stability while his slide down either side of my waist till they meet my hips with a firm grip and he growls, which echoes throughout my whole body.
What started soft and sweet grows momentum.
He takes control running his lips over mine a couple times.
After what feels like not nearly long enough, he pulls back.
“Well, that was terrible. You should really practice more,” he teases.
Laughter bursts out of me. “Oh, yeah? Practice, huh?” I say, smiling up at him, my lips tingling in remembrance.
He fills the space between us again in one step. “Yeah, but I’m willing to help.”
“That is just so, so...”
“Honorable?”
“So...”
“Charitable?”
I laugh as he bends to wind himself around me, slightly lifting me. “So...”
“Selfless?”
I press a quick peck to his lips. “You talk a lot.”
“Only with you.”
Pam clears her throat as she walks by us with a large serving platter filled with stacks upon stacks of pancakes.
My stomach growls. Levi sets me down, trading my waist for my hand.
We float through the window-filled restaurant.
Outside, men and women line up outside the door to take a picture; our car is parked along the curb just beyond them.
“This is crazy. We’re in a singing competition, not a movie.”
He holds my hand a little tighter. “Ready? Head down, walk fast.”
I nod as he presses open the swinging glass door, and we’re off.
Levi’s steps are about three of mine, so I have to move at double-time to get to the car at the same speed.
Once inside the cab of the car, Levi lets his head fall back onto the headrest. Stress seeps off him.
I’m happily exhausted and allow myself to use his giant shoulder as a pillow.
***
It takes a little under an hour to get back to the house. Somewhere after the third traffic stop, I drifted to sleep, only to wake up with my head moving from his shoulder to his lap.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he says with a smile. The sky has completely darkened since we left the pier.
“You mean good night?”
“Are you going to bed?” His eyebrows knit together as he helps me step from the cab.
“Not just yet,” I say, making my way to the front door as he pays the driver.