He turns back, eyes burning. “What’s the point? I’m going back to the party so I can be with a girl who doesn’t mind if she’s seen with me.”
“Anthony, don’t!”
But he’s already moving away. His stride lengthens, and I have to jog to catch up, panic I don’t understand pushing me to reach him, to stop him. “Anthony. Please!” I grab his arm. The muscles are tight as wound rope, but I don’t let go. He drags me along like I’m not even there. Tears of frustration fill my eyes. “I took you back after the spring. You’re supposed to take me back now. That’s what Josie said.”
“Josie?” He stops at the edge of Jason’s yard. The streetlights flicker on above, a humming noise announcing the official arrival of dusk. He turns to face me. “You told Josie?”
Crap. Another mistake. I drop his arm, wiping a few tears from my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to.”
His eyes seem to melt and burn all at the same time. “You told her about us?”
“I did. Tonight.” My heart is pumping hard like it knows something I don’t.
His voice dips. “Why?”
“I couldn’t keep hiding it. I wanted to tell her. And I got so mad when you picked that…that…”
“Delia,” he says.
I shove his chest.
His brows shoot up. “What’s that for?”
“For picking her to be your pool chicken partner.”
“You and I broke it off. Remember?”
I sniffle, lifting my chin. “It was this morning, Anthony. There’s a mourning period when a fling ends. Twenty-four hours before you have another girl’s thighs around your neck.”
His lips soften a little. “You were jealous.”
“It wasn’t jealousy.” I muster what’s left of my pride. “It’s common fling etiquette.”
“And what about Grant?”
My cheeks flush. “It’s not like that with Grant. I don’t want to date him, or kiss him, or be his pool chicken partner.”
He watches me, and I know he’s wondering if he can believe me. “And what if I had asked you to be my partner tonight?”
“You would have won first place.”
He smiles, but it flickers on his lips for just a few seconds and then fades. A darker emotion fills his eyes, thickens a frown line across his forehead. The door opens, distracting us both. Four guys spill out, their wet flip-flops hitting the walkway. A light flares and smoke rises, gray and bitter from whatever they’re smoking. Abruptly, Anthony faces me again. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
He takes my hand, and I don’t really care where. He’s going a little too fast, and I don’t care about that, either. Even though I have no idea where we’re headed, it feels like the right direction. We pass his car, and a few houses down we come to a small neighborhood park. Grass, a couple picnic tables, and a sandy playground with swings and a slide set. No one else in sight.
He lets go of my hands, slides them in the pockets of his board shorts. “You once told me my kisses make you stupid. You remember that?”
“I remember.”
“I liked that. The idea of it. But now…” His throat works over a thick swallow. “I don’t want to be your mistake, Mai. Your lapse in judgment. And I don’t want to be your fling.” He steps back. “The question is: what do you want?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Anthony
The night is pressing in on us. On me. My question is hanging in the air, growing bigger with every second she doesn’t answer. She told Josie. That has to mean something—but what?
Mai walks to where the swings are, grabbing a chain like she needs something to hold on to. I feel the same way. Walking across the sand feels like walking to the plate during the championship game. My mouth is dry, my palms sweaty. I don’t know what I’m about to face, just that the stakes are so damn high.
“What I want and what’s possible seem like two different things.” She settles on the swing. “I’m leaving. You’re leaving.”
I sit on the swing beside her. “That’s geography.”
“What about our plans? The way we want to live.”
“Plans can change, right? If we’re willing to let them.”
Her swing creaks as she pivots toward me. “Are you willing to let them? Change?”
“I am if you are.”
She chews her lip. “How would we do this?”
I sigh. She wants me to hand her a syllabus with everything spelled out. As if I know any more than she does. “No plan, Mai. No rules. We just do it. Take the leap. Like when you were a kid and you jumped off the swings.”
Her swing rattles as she pushes back. “I never jumped off a swing.”
“Not even once?”
“No. My mom said I would crack open my head.” Her hands tighten on the chain. “And I never will, so quit looking at me like that.”
I grin. “That’s your problem right there. If you’d jumped back then, you’d know that you could do it now. And I don’t just mean the swing part.”
“Why does it have to be a jump? Why can’t it be nice, measured steps?”
“Maybe it can be,” I say. “It doesn’t feel like such a leap to me anymore. Us, together.” I slide my feet through the sand, stretching my swing until I’m close enough to grab her swing and pull her close. Then I think, What the hell? I need to take my own advice and jump. “Mai.” My throat’s so tight, her name is almost a whisper. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m falling for you.”
Her eyes widen, and a startled breath escapes.
I wrap my hands around hers where they’re clutching the chains. “Yeah, I know it wasn’t part of the plan. I’m not thrilled about it, believe me.”
She purses her lips. “Well, that’s highly unromantic.”
“Now you want romance, Dumpling?”
Her smile hits my bloodstream and starts it bubbling. “That is still the worst love name ever.”
Jeez, this girl. I dip my chin, locking gazes. Her eyes are so deep I want to dive in there and figure out the mystery of who she is, why she does this to me. I lean close to kiss the tips of her fingers, making the swing rattle again. “I’m asking you to be my girlfriend.”