33. BACK THEN – August
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
W illow is staring at me like I just told her we’re both joining NASA together and heading on a one-way ticket to Jupiter. Maybe that sounds more realistic than the reality. Dating me.
I know I’m not a great catch, especially since I’m officially on my third prep school. But I just thought there’s something between us.
Something more.
Unless I’ve been way off base.
Her mouth is ajar, eyes wide, startled like I’m a headlight that just blasted in front of her face. She hasn’t said a word, and I figure she’s probably questioning why we’re even friends.
I fucked it all up.
“Hey, forget about it,” I say quickly, salvaging what I can. “It’s whatever. We can just be friends.”
She reanimates abruptly. “No, I’d like you to be my…my um…”
“Boyfriend,” I finish for her. My lips lift into a smile. She’d like that .
My excitement tapers off when she says, “Yes, that. But you should know some things before you officially ask me.”
I can’t help it, I’m smiling harder. “I thought I just officially asked you.”
She pales a little, but her lips inch up. “Okay, true. But still, I need you to know what you’re asking me.”
Okay. No biggie. “Could we stand for this?” I ask. We’re still squatting underneath the table. “My quads are killing me.” Byproduct of Faust not having a lacrosse team, and now I’m getting ready to try out at Maybelwood’s. Too much conditioning this morning.
Willow nods, and at the same time, we both rise. The box of comics is situated between us, and she skims her fingers over a cover like she’s trying to take her time to gather words.
I wait. I can be patient.
A long beat passes before she lets out a tense breath. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”
“I know.”
“But it’s more than that, I’ve never kissed a boy before.” She stares at me, head-on. “And even though I like you—like really like you—and I want you to be my boyfriend, I still don’t know if I’d be ready to kiss you right away.”
Found the origin of her hesitation.
Honestly, I’m relieved. Because I figured this much out about Willow. It’s not that big of a surprise. “I get that,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t want some label between us to flip a switch on what you’re comfortable with either. We can be boyfriend and girlfriend without kissing.”
“We can?” she asks like this scenario is unfounded and untested.
“One hundred percent,” I say. “Honestly, I really want to kiss you. But I wouldn’t pressure you. Whenever you’re ready is good with me.”
“What if I’m old and gray?” she asks.
I have a full-blown smile.
Quickly, she adds, “Not that I’m assuming we’d be together that long. Or even short.” She presses a hand to her temple. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“I’m following,” I tell her. “And I’m totally here for being senior citizens who only hug each other. It’s not like some other dude would be making out with you or having sex with you—that I wouldn’t be able to stand.”
She nods slowly like she’s almost in a daze. “Me too.” She blinks. “I mean, I also wouldn’t be able to stand some girl making out with you or…sex.” She grips the edge of the cardboard box. “So you’d really be okay with waiting? Isn’t intimacy like a foundation of a good relationship?”
“I mean, I’m not an expert,” I say, “but I think we can have intimacy without kissing or sex.”
Her eyes flit around me. “Like how?”
“Can I touch you?” I round the box to stand in front of Willow.
She nods once. I wrap my arms around her body and tuck her into my chest. My chin rests on the top of her head, and her arms kind of dangle at her sides. Her heart is a rapid, nervous organ inside her chest, thumping against me.
This tenderness doesn’t exist in my life except right here.
“Willow,” I whisper. “Can I be your boyfriend?” I ask again, this time better.
Her fingers slide against the belt loops of my pants. “Yeah. I’d like that.” And then she adds, “So I’m your girlfriend? Does this mean I’m not your girl anymore?”
“No way.” I close my eyes, letting my smile pull my cheeks. “You’re still my girl, even more now.”