Page 30 of All of You

Exiting the van she mumbles something about the way Langdon looks at me that I ignore because she couldn’t be more wrong. Langdon has girlsliterallyhanging all over him. He doesn’t look at me like anything.

Langdon’s on his phone, hip against his truck. I tug at the hem of my too-short skirt as I approach. His eyes snap up, his phone shoved into his pocket forcefully while his eyes start at my toes and work their way up my body. Lingering. Each spot his gaze lingers feels like an open flame on my skin; scorching, singing.

He quirks an eyebrow at me and whistles. “Damn Delia.”

I hold up a hand as embarrassment washes over me. “Oh my god, stop. Please.”

“You went from hobo chic to…”

“That’s it, I’m not going.” I turn on my heel and head back toward the van. A warm, large hand wraps around my bicep, stopping me in my tracks.

“I’ll stop.” His voice comes out husky and kind of breathless. I spin to face him slowly. His eyes bore into mine earnestly but intensely and my mind turns into a jungle. A mass of jumbled vine-like thoughts and desires.Stop it, Delia.He releases my arm and it falls to my side limply. Sad at the loss of contact. “I mean it though, you look really…” he scratches his head and looks over my shoulder. “Nice.”

“Um, thanks,” I sputter.

“Have fun guys!” Mom calls from her chair by the fire. She’s grinning like a Cheshire cat and it instantly irritates me.

“Let’s get this over with,” I say. Langdon laughs but walks me to his truck and opens my door for me.

Gracefully getting in is all but a pipe dream in the skirt mom picked out for me, so I awkwardly shimmy my way in while tossing a prayer into the wind that I don’t flash Langdon in the process.

Sixteen

Langdon

Ihave an eye twitch that won’t go away. Super embarrassing. I wonder if Delia notices it. The moon rises as we drive. The windows are cracked and the end-of-summer breeze flows through the cab. She hasn’t once complained about the breeze or her hair.

Delia’s been humming along to the playlist I have going so I haven’t tried to make conversation. I like her voice, the sound of her humming. She watches the scenery go by with an expression that makes me think she’s actually some wild animal trapped in captivity and longs to be running free in nature. It’s sexy as hell.

Hailie’s house sits on the top of the hill, looking down at the town. Hailie is loaded and her parents don’t parent. She’s been throwing this stupid party since freshman year.

“Who’s house is this?” Delia asks as we head up the winding drive.

“Hailie’s.”

“Figures,” she says. She looks at me long and hard. I can feel her eyes burning holes into the side of my face.

“What?” I ask.

“You and Hailie…” her voice drifts off.

“Are nothing. We dated for a hot second in seventh grade. That’s the history.”

“Me thinks he doth protest too much,” she says.

“Ugh, what?”

“Oh my god. Shakespeare? Do you read?”

“Not if I can help it.” I laugh and park the truck.

She pins me with an earnest look while unbuckling. “Are you sure it’s cool if I come?”

My hand reaches out and moves her hair over her shoulder. “Of course.” I try to snatch it back but it’s too late. Delia sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and searches my eyes. My fingers burn from where they touched her bare skin. “Ready?” I ask.

She releases her bottom lip and nods.

“Yup.”