Nineteen
Sarah
“Guess what?” I bumped against my boyfriend’s shoulder at school the next day. “I wrote that list.”
“Did you?” Peter looked down at me, a brow arching with interest.
“Yep.”
“Did you bring it to school?”
Frowning, I thought for a moment. “Yeah, actually, I think I may have tucked it in my binder.” I shook my head at myself. What a risky, silly thing to do. I needed to go home, lock it in a safe, and throw away the key. Its discovery risked total annihilation of my pride.
“Can I see it?”
Instantly, I blushed and tried to play off my horror with a playful scoff. “No!”
“Aw. Why not?” His eyes shimmered with teasing.
“Beacuse some of the stuff on there is…personal.”
“Makes sense. I just thought it would be fun to help you check some of the stuff off.” He laughed, shaking his head at himself. “Obviously, I can’t take you to Paris, but if it was something local…” He shrugged.
My brain frantically backpedaled. I would die a thousand deaths before I handed Peter the list I wrote, but the idea of completing bucket list items with my brand new boyfriend sent tingles rushing through my veins. I would have to be clinically insane not to capitalize on an offer like that.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Oh, in that case, you can totally see it.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Sure.”
“At lunch?”
“Sure.” Panic wound through my chest. What was I saying? The list I had would go with me to the grave, but maybe I could write another one…
Before we could discuss it further, the bell rang and we dashed to our separate classes.
But, instead of tuning in for a bland discussion of the book Othello, I flipped to a fresh page in my notebook and frantically formatted lines.
Then my brain went crazy, shooting ideas from the hip faster than my poor cramping hand could write them down.
I stood at his front door, nervously smoothing down the front of my cornflower blue homecoming dress. My palms felt hot and my skin clammy, even as the chill autumn air sent leaves tumbling across the Thompson’s driveway.
The door opened and Lynn squealed in delight at the sight of me. “Oh, Sarah! You look beautiful, darling. Come in.”
Giggling, I stepped inside their foyer and let her draw me into a hug. Pushing away, her face melted with concern as she cupped my cheeks. “I’m sorry about tonight. Peter is so sad.”
I shook my head. “I promise it’s okay. I’d rather be here with him than anywhere else.”
“He’s so blessed to have you.” She swiped a little clear box off the foyer table and handed it to me. “There’s his boutonniere. Go on back to the game room. I’ll be there in a few minutes to take some pictures.”
I gazed down at the tiny white rose boutonniere in my hands.
Sweet Lynn had made the entire homecoming thing possible for me.
When I tearfully told her my mom wouldn’t take me shopping for a dress, Lynn zoomed me off to Starbucks for caramel lattes then took me to the mall, pulling the necessary strings to make sure I got something beautiful at the last minute.
As I made my way down their long hallway, soft music reached my ears, curling a smile into my cheeks. I pushed the game room door open to find dim lighting, candles, and a little table full of finger foods.
Peter jumped to his feet and braced a hand on the wall. His eyes immediately followed the flow of my dress, starting at the top and traveling down to my feet. When his eyes found mine again, his voice came out breathless. “Sarah, you look perfect.”
I smiled, noting his white shirt, black coat, blue tie, and slacks. “So do you.”
He crossed the room, stopping right in front of me.
His skin was pale and dark circles encased his eyes, making him look so tired.
Just when we thought he’d kicked them, the fevers came back with a vengeance, bringing fatigue and body aches.
No one else in his family had gotten sick, despite Peter struggling over the last couple weeks, so Lynn assumed he wasn’t contagious and just had an infection somewhere.
He’d missed a few weeks of basketball practices and didn’t have the energy to stay out late for homecoming.
In fact, he had missed most of the spirit week activities, too.
Thank goodness, he was scheduled to see a doctor this coming Monday morning. Everyone was starting to worry.
I lifted my hand to his cheek, temp-testing his surprisingly cool face. “How are you feeling? You don’t feel hot.”
“It went away a couple hours ago. I’m just exhausted now.” His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t go tonight. These stupid fevers—”
I laid a finger over his lips. “Don’t.”
Reaching up, he grabbed my hand and laced his fingers through mine. His palm against my own still caused my heart to flutter like an explosion of butterflies in my chest. He said, “I feel bad though.”
I glanced around the room. “We will have a great time right here.”
“I think we will.”
“What are we doing exactly?”
“Well…” He turned around to the table behind him, suppressing a smile.
When he turned back, he held a little white corsage.
“Obviously, we are going to eat and dance a little.” He lifted my left hand, stretching the elastic band until the beautiful white flowers and blue ribbons rested over my wrist. “I thought we could watch a movie if I start feeling bad again, and—I want to cross something off your list, actually.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
Instantly, my mind flitted back to the other list items we’d crossed off.
Trying to write a respectable bucket list in a single class period was more difficult than I thought it would be.
And, in my haste, embarrassing things slipped into the list, like pierce my bellybutton and make out in a janitor’s closet.
As well as things that bordered on impossible like step foot on all seven continents and kayak the Big Thompson River.
And I put some normal life things on there, too.
Like get married and have a baby, Peter took each one in stride, determined to help me experience as many as he could.
In fact, he’d marched down to the school library and asked the librarian to xerox a copy.
I died of embarrassment when he stuffed the copy into his backpack and gave me the original with a smirk.
But, just like I loved him on the playground for entertaining my wild fantasies about catching the sun, I loved him again for not treating me like the foolish, wide-eyed girl I probably was.
Trying to hide the way my fingers shook, I removed the boutonniere from its box and fumbled with the long straight pin against his lapel.
And then his mom swept in, taking a few pictures of us.
And before I knew it, we were swaying to the music, laughing our heads off, and dipping huge red strawberries and pretzel sticks in melted chocolate.
The night swirled under a haze of euphoria.
If someone looked at us, they wouldn’t see two teens missing the biggest school event of the fall. They’d see two best friends acting like the night was made for them.
And just when I could hardly contain my happiness, Peter tugged on my hand, leading me out the back door of their house. As we stepped onto the deck, he flipped the flood lights off, plunging the two of us into darkness.
Well, as much darkness as a suburban neighborhood could afford.
Then he led me into the middle of the yard, where the open sky stretched above us.
With my heart in my throat, I wracked my brain, wondering what I’d written on the list that would warrant this. Grabbing both of my hands, he faced me, and my stomach bottomed out with anticipation.
He took a deep breath. “Line fifty-seven said, do something scary in the dark.”
I almost scoffed out a laugh. Could I have written anything more vague? What a ridiculous entry. But I bit down on my lip, eager to hear his interpretation.
He gave a slight laugh. “And maybe I’m just a chicken, but I thought of something I’ve wanted to do for a long time now, but I’ve been too scared.”
What did that mean? Was he about to…
His eyes flicked to my mouth.
And just like that, the strength in my knees vanished.
Fighting to stay upright, I held my breath and squeezed his hands as my legs quaked. He tugged me closer and leaned his head toward mine. Strangely breathless, his voice caressed my lips. “If this doesn’t count as scary to you, you don’t have to cross it off. Sound good?”
My eyes settled on his beautiful mouth as his hands slipped around my cheeks, gently lifting my chin, touching me like I was made of glass.
As if pulled by a magnet, my eyes fluttered closed even though I desperately wanted to keep them open.
Encased in darkness, I leaned my body into his, taking the tiniest sip of air and hoping it was enough to keep me conscious.
Then Peter’s lips touched mine.
He was soft and warm, familiar but brand new.
A comfortable sigh and a tense breath rolled together.
He was moonbeams yet sunbeams. Floating and grounding.
Risky but safe. My heart popped to life in my chest as I tilted my head, meeting him as he moved his lips across mine.
One of his hands dropped to my waist and I pressed closer, greedy for any touch I could get.
Ending before it truly began, he drew back.
I peeled my heavy eyelids open to find his beautiful brown irises roaming my face, checking in. His voice was gruff, “What do you say? Does it count, Sunshine Girl?”
Hardly able to summon my voice, I breathed, “It—it counts.”
Satisfied, he leaned forward, and kissed me again.