Her eyes get that soft, unfocused look I love. “Oh.”
“No more hiding. We go back to the party—as us.” I rub my thumbs over her knuckles, feel her fingers loosen. “I want to pick you for pool chicken, and I want everyone to know you wore that lipstick for me.”
I drag her a few inches closer until her knees are between mine. The swings are in the way of getting her as close as I want. I lift her up, and she yelps in surprise before swinging her legs over my thighs. I let her swing go and then mine, spinning back around and twisting us with a hard push in the sand. She clings to my shoulders, burying her face in my neck. She smells good—like honey and cinnamon. I keep one arm secure and tight around her back. I want her to feel safe. And I just really like holding her this way.
When we settle to a stop, she leans back and smiles. “You want a lot of things.”
“I’m just getting started.” I run a finger over the tiny bow at the center of her suit. The one that’s been teasing me all night. “I want everyone to know at the trail project—including Grant. Especially Grant,” I add. “I want our parents to know. And if you’re bringing a guy to a dinner, I want that guy to be me.”
“Anthony.”
“What?”
Her smile fades. She leans back, but this time I can tell it’s to put distance between us. There’s a look on her face—I can’t read her eyes because she’s got her face down. As if she’s hiding something. “What?” I ask again.
She finally looks up. “I want those things, too. As much as you do.” Her fingers squeeze tight on my shoulders. “But can we slow down a little? I know this has been building between us for months. But it’s brand-new for my parents. I can’t spring it on them all at once or they’ll know I’ve been lying. Can we start with you meeting them? As my friend.”
“You think they’ll be okay with that?”
She pushes my hair back over my forehead, her fingers gentle. Careful. Like I matter. “If they get to know you, they will.”
I like the sound of that. “Well, I can be charming.”
Her smile shoots like a dart to my heart. “When you want to be.”
I hold her gaze. “I want to be.”
Her throat works, and her eyes are shiny again. “So we have a plan?”
She feels so good in my arms. It’s hard to think. “What about the dinner?”
She stiffens, her muscles tensing, and now I’m tense, too, and I don’t even know why. “It might be too late to add another person. It’s a seated dinner. Besides…” She pauses for a breath. “What about camping? Your dad. Your tradition. There will be other dinners.”
“I can drive all night if I have to.” My arms tighten around her. “When can I meet them? How about tonight? I’ll take you home.”
“Not tonight.” She pulls her hands from around my neck and grips the chains. “I need time to tell them about you. Besides, Ethan just flew in tonight.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
She bites her lip. “Tomorrow is busy, but—” She looks in my eyes, nods. “Let’s do it tomorrow. And Anthony?”
“What?”
“Yes.” She smiles. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”
I’m grinning so wide when I lean it to kiss her that our noses bang and our teeth clack. “Ow,” she says, pulling away, but we’re both laughing. “We’re obviously going to need a lot more practice,” she teases.
“Good thing there’s no more Rule 5.”
She sighs loudly. “I really hated Rule 5.”
I pull her close for a quick hug. “When tomorrow?”
“I’ll text you after I’ve had a chance to set the stage.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“And we won’t say anything about the dinner yet, right?”
I hesitate and then nod. I’m not going to argue when I’ve just gotten what I want.
I pull her close again and try not to wonder why it doesn’t feel that way.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mai
“It feels weird to hold a brain,” Ethan says.
He passes me the gray mass, and even though it’s made of plastic, it does feel weird. “Why do brains always look like they’re covered in snakes?”
It’s late Sunday afternoon, and we’re at the Arizona Science Center for a lecture on asymmetry in brains. Well, Mom and Dad are sitting in on the lecture. Ethan and I are walking around the main floor. We’ve always loved coming here, and it reminds me how much fun we’d have, the two of us. We’d race the wheelchairs and play tug of war on the giant fulcrum. He thought the farting stomach was disgusting, so I did, too. I wonder if I’d been born a Senn and looked like a Senn, would I have tried so hard to be one? Maybe I would have been the one to pull Ethan into the stomach monster. Instead, I’m still letting him lead the way. Still working up my courage to tell him about Anthony. I keep waiting for the right moment, but the lecture must be nearly over and I still haven’t done it.
Anthony: What time?
It’s the last text Anthony sent. The same as the text before that. I didn’t even respond to the newest one.
“I think they look like worms,” Ethan says.
Worms are not a good segue into Anthony.
“I’m anti-worm, too. I’m in favor of legs.”
“Spiders?” he asks, knowing I had nightmares about Shelob on The Lord of the Rings.
“Not too many legs.”
“Lobsters have a lot of legs, and they’re delicious.” He sets the wormy gray mass back into the exhibit. “It’s weird that we’re afraid of snakes and spiders because the amygdala section of our brain tells us to be afraid. But then our frontal lobe tells us it’s not rational to be afraid.”
Speaking of irrational, there’s this guy I like.
I sigh. There hasn’t been one decent moment to bring up Anthony. Over lunch, we had to talk about Ethan’s new apartment, and Ethan’s class schedule, and Ethan’s internship. Then Mom was busy with unpacking and laundry. And this morning.
You could have done it this morning.
My conscience pipes up, unwilling to lie as much as I wish it would. There was a moment in the kitchen, everyone drinking coffee while we went over the calendar for the next few days. If Mom wasn’t a biologist-turned-professor, she would have been an event planner. She likes everything planned to the minute. Ethan asked about the trail project and Grant. It would have been easy to say something then.