Page 11

We put two more posters up, one on the side window where the lunch lines were and the other on the main door to the gym.
“Are you still as into movies now as you used to be?” he asked, and I told myself I didn’t care that he remembered.
I nodded. “Definitely.” I liked the process of making movies more than anything. From the conception of an idea to it being realized on screen, it fascinated me. “And you?”
“A bit, yeah. I’ve been watching a lot of older ones lately, fifties and sixties stuff.”
You do not think that’s cool. You do not think that’s cool. It’s not interesting at all.
“You know” —he laughed— “back when guys used to pin a girl before asking her to homecoming.” He slid his hand over the stack of homecoming posters.
I swallowed. Right. Pinning. The tradition of having your girl wear your pin as a sign of commitment, or whatever. Not the type of pinning I was picturing Neil doing to someone—me—right now.
The thought of it was far more enticing than I wanted to admit.Oh, screw it.I’d already admitted it to myself. A few times.
“Like in college, right?” I said. “Isn’t that basically what the promise ring of today is?”
He shrugged, his eyebrows pulling together into an almost unnoticeable frown. “I don’t know, I feel like it was different. More intentional, right? And innocent. I kind of like the idea of it.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course he did. “Of course you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I brushed off his offense. I hadn’t meant any, anyway. “It’s just… if you told me you’d been transported here from the 1950s by time machine as a kid, I’d be inclined to believe you.”
He laughed. “Thank you, I think?”
“It’s a compliment.”I think.
“You sure about that?” He laughed again.
I thought it over for his benefit. Good manners, respectful stare, light conversation, easy smile. Yeah, I could get down with that. On a friendly level, anyway.
“I mean, with your collared button-downs, pressed pants, and perfect reputation… you definitely fit the bill.” I shrugged. “But you also seem like a pretty decent guy. Old school.”Innocent, prudish, the kind of guy who’d pin a girl and go steady with her and have a swinging good time while never once trying to get past first base.
I kept those thoughts to myself, obviously.
He looked down at his clothes and back up at me, lifting his eyebrows.
“Well, except for today, of course,” I said. Today, I could see the hair that lined his calves and shins. I could see the muscles in them. Swimmer’s muscles.Ahem.I looked him in the eyes. “What is it, laundry day? Or did you lose a bet?”
His lips curved up into a smirky half-smile. He didn’t say anything as he looked over my face, searching for God knows what, but he was looking for something.
Whatever he found made his smile stretch wider. His eyes shined with amusement.
It took everything in me not to shift around on my feet.
“And which do you like better?” he asked, smirk still fixed firmly in place.
And,oh…okay.So apparently, hecouldsee right through me. Like my façade and walls weren’t even there.
Apparently,they were just a goddamn mirage of flimsy thin glass pretending to block out Neil’s awareness, but instead had parted like the Red Sea behind my back and welcomed him right the fuck in.
Wonderful.
My mom’s car was in the driveway when I pulled up after school. The smell of food hit my senses as soon as I walked through the front door into the house. (Lots of food.)
Entering the kitchen, it was evident that my mom had ordered one of everything from every restaurant within a three-mile radius, and the table was all done up, too. Fancy china, silverware, shimmering tablecloth, rhinestone runner, floral centerpiece, the whole nine yards. My suspicion immediately rose.