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hroughout the day, Ben and I exchanged texts, and as the evening wore on, I had to intervene and tell him to stop while he was driving.

Apparently, he interpreted that to mean call instead, because the screen lit up with his name, overtaking the conversation. My eyes rounded as my nerves jolted to life. A flurry of excuses flew through my head to explain why I’d “missed” his call before I realized I was about to go on a date with him, Ben Pierce.

If I couldn’t talk to him over the phone, then how could I possibly imagine I’d handle the forty-five minute drive to the movies?

I answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hey! You answered. I thought for a minute there you might ghost me.”

Goosebumps erupted over my skin at the word ghost, but I pushed it to the back of my mind, determined not to have anything weird happen—not on my first date, dang it!

“Why would I” — Ghost— “ignore you? Are you here?” Our room overlooked the backyard, so I couldn’t glance out and see if he’d pulled up.

Oh! My watch!

I tabbed on the screen, checking my vitals and the battery.

It was good to go.

Ben cleared his throat. “I think so. Do you live on a really creepy half-mile driveway?”

My heart jump-started. “Yeah, you’re here. Just keep following that. If you see any werewolves, make sure you lose them first.”

He’d grown accustomed to my morbid sense of humor during our nonstop texting marathon, so he didn’t miss a beat when he replied, “Fine, but that’s where I draw the line. My old truck can probably outrun furry little wolf men creature things, but if I run into vampires on your spooky driveway, then you better be ready with some wooden stakes, because I’ll lead them straight to you. Be there in… well, as soon as this driveway ends.”

I gave myself one last inspection in the bathroom mirror. “You should be close.”

“Yeah, I think I see a light up ahead. A light at the end of the tunnel!”

I laughed. “You’re so dramatic. It’s six o’clock in the dead of summer.”

“Hey, it’s darker in the woods, and so far, this place is nothing but trees.”

The familiar crunch of gravel sounded. I rushed into the hallway and into my parents’ room to peek out the window, catching sight of an older model, light tan truck with a thick white stripe running down its boxy body. Honestly, was it a stripe or was the truck painted in thirds?

The internal question didn’t prevent my heartbeat from kicking into a running pace.

This couldn’t be real.

This couldn’t be my life.

I skated through school under the radar. I didn’t get asked out by big hitters on the football team.

Maybe when I had my accident, I cracked my skull and was currently lying in some hospital bed somewhere deep in a highly realistic coma. There were probably a handful of hospital staff members getting a kick out of my heart rate monitor readings as my mind roller-coastered me through this intense dream.

“Hey, I see your house. I’ll be out in a minute,” Ben’s smooth, deep voice informed me, rolling around my ear.

I shivered.

Nah, if this wasn’t real, then I’d died and gone to heaven. No coma spawned from my weak imagination would be this pleasant.

I raced out of the room and down the stairs, pausing halfway to the first floor before hurrying up.

“Wait,” I began as the meaning of his words registered. “What do you mean—”

A knock sounded on the other side of the door I’d been fully prepared to open and march straight out of.

Oh no, oh no.

What was he thinking?

Why’d he get out of the truck?

“Is that Ben?” Dad called, already on his way. He caught sight of me standing there, frozen, with my hand on the knob. I’d been so close. “Well, don’t just stand there, Willa. Let the boy in.”

Okay, this was happening. Ben Pierce was going to see my house. On the plus side, he’d already met my dad. A special prayer of thanks went out for the fact that Mom had called an hour ago to inform us she’d been roped into another double shift, so at least Ben would be spared her particular brand of crazy this round.

With a deep breath, I opened the door. The suction of air pulled inside had a whiff of whatever cologne Ben applied tickling my senses—or maybe it was just his shampoo… or deodorant… or just him , because it smelled like the hoodie, my guilty, cherished treasure stuffed beneath a lily-shaped pillow upstairs. Only this scent was a fresh, primary source, and it took all I had not to swoon.

Dad’s—and Nick’s, I noted, since the little snoop had materialized by the couch—presence helped keep me in check.

To my brother’s credit, he hadn’t said a word when I upended my entire wardrobe and turned our bedroom into a war zone in my quest for the perfect outfit, only to settle on my normal go-to for comfort.

An awkward silence stretched out as I debated how to handle a reintroduction introduction. Was that even a thing? It certainly felt like a thing at the moment as words sat on the tip of my tongue and my eyes bounced between Ben’s shifting stance, Dad’s cross-armed stern mien, and Nick’s ever-increasing, ill-concealed glee.

“Ben,” Dad greeted after a lengthy pause, as if Ben passed some unspoken test. He stepped forward, offering his hand. “You came to the door to pick up my daughter, and I respect that. Don’t lose that very fragile, very fledgling respect. You’ll have her home by ten. No country road detours.”

Country road detours?

It didn’t matter that my dad’s meaning slipped past me, because Ben seemed to get it, accepting his terms with an easy nod. “Of course, sir. I have nothing but the utmost respect for women.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.” Dad turned to me. “Willa, have fun, and to quote a pair of famous twins, remember, ‘no’ is a complete sentence.”

Okay, that time I understood his implications, and my cheeks warmed. “Got it, Dad. Can we go now?”

Now all of them were grinning, but Dad answered, “Sure thing. Bye, sweetheart.”

Ben gestured for me to go, tossing out a, “See you, Nick,” as cool as that. Nick chin bobbed in response like some cheesy gangster from a B-movie, and then before I knew it, we were buckled in and on our way.

“Nice truck,” I complimented after he reversed from his parking spot near the porch.

“Oh, it’s not much.”

“Hey, I meant it. There’s a lot of maintenance in keeping classics looking this good. You take good care of it.”

Classic was a bit of an overexaggeration, but Ben beamed at me. The maintenance part wasn’t a lie though. No cracks lined the dashboard, and it gleamed with a soft shine. Paired with the lemony fresh scent, he’d probably Armor All’ed it to within an inch of its life recently—likewise with the leather seats.

“Thanks,” Ben replied. “Do you want to listen to music?”

I tucked my hands together between my legs for warmth as goosebumps erupted over me. A quick check of my watch said it was just nerves.

“Ah, you look nice,” Ben added in the quiet cab as he navigated. After a minute of nothing but the sound of his truck’s squeaky suspension getting a workout over the potholed terrain, Ben commented, “You know, your driveway is actually creepy. You might have to hold my hand later on the ride back when it’s dark out.”

“Is it?” I glanced around through the trees, trying to see it through a new perspective.

“You don’t think so?”

“Well, I walk it every day to and from the bus, so I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Bus rider, huh?” he asked, and I worried for half a second that I’d just stamped “geek” in big letters across my forehead. “Sometimes I miss that. My simulated farm has suffered without that daily half-hour of dedicated play time.”

“Huh.”

He glanced at me as the driveway finally spit us out on the highway. “What?”

“I just pictured you as a Football Tycoon sort of guy, not a Farmtown fan.”

“Okay, first off, I’m ninety percent sure that’s not even a thing, and, secondly, it’s Farm ville. Get it right.”

“But you’re friends with Ralph Buchanan.”

“Uh, yes? I’m friends with many people.”

“Yeah, but Ralph’s family owns probably fifty percent of the farmland around here.”

“Your point being?”

“If you want to try your hand at farming, just go to his house.”

He laughed. “For your information, I have before, but with my schedule, I spend most of my summer training.”

That made sense. “Did Kolton and Hunter do that too? Spend their summers working for the Buchanans?”

He frowned. “Yeah, but how did you know?”

“It’s just that you four make an unlikely bunch. I know you aren’t all neighbors because I’ve never seen the three of you ride the same bus as Ralph and me.”

Ben gasped and put his hand on his chest. “Willa—what’s your last name again?”

“Walker.”

“—Walker! Are you stereotyping me?” He shook his head. “As a girl who spends the majority of her time camping and getting muddy, I figured you would be above such labels!”

“Hey, if it walks like a jock and talks like a jock…”

“Alright, tomboy.”

“Yeah, probably.”

He huffed. “Well, that backfired.”

I grinned. “You should get used to that if we’re going to be seeing each other more.”

The presumptuousness of the offhanded comment sunk in too late, and I yearned to snatch my words back from the ether, worried I’d overstepped.

What felt like miles of highway passed before Ben, in a more serious tone than I’d heard from him before, replied, “Yeah, I should. I mean, I don’t want to jinx it or anything, but I feel like we get along well. Is that just me?”

My heart exploded into fireworks within my chest, forcing up emotions that clogged my throat. My voice came out hoarse even after clearing my throat. “No, it’s not just you.”

Ben nodded and adopted a light tone. “Well, at the risk of tempting fate, I think I’d like a chance to go on a second date with you. There’s surely more to learn about this supposed tomboy who stuck a pink princess decal on her helmet that would require more than one date to uncover.”

My cheeks ignited, but I stuttered out some form of agreement.

“Great.” He grinned. He turned and hit me with the full force of his dimpled smile. “I didn’t want to tell you this in front of your family, but you look really cute tonight.”

Instead of flustering me more, his words made my brows hike high. I glanced down at my ripped capris and fitted purple plaid shirt. “Really?”

“Oh yeah, it’s very corn country cutie, which works for you.”

Ah, there it was, the blush.

“T-Thanks.” Desperate for a change of topic, I said, “So football training? All summer?”

Our conversation recharged as he narrated his coach’s workout plan for them, and I defended the girlie nature of the helmet decal because I argued that it was a sarcastic commentary on how princesses don’t get dirty. He would rebut my points, teasing me relentlessly with a half smile that curled the corners of his lips and dimpled his cheeks.

We drifted onto other topics, and I thought that I’d never had such an effortless conversation with one of my peers before as we stopped talking long enough to purchase tickets, popcorn, and an armful of sweets.

“Seriously,” he whispered as the lights dimmed while we claimed our seats. We’d barely made the previews, despite leaving fifteen minutes early. Ben’s old truck must not be the fastest car at the track. “There’s no way you’ll eat that much candy.”

If there was one thing I wasn’t ashamed of—when I wasn’t experiencing a combination of terror and excitement like at the campground—it was my appetite. Due to my weird condition, I could eat what I wanted, when I wanted.

Admittedly, tonight might have been overcompensating a bit. Ben’s only impression of me was how I’d skipped lunch and wrecked. Any anorexic rumors would be put to bed here and now.

Ben picked our seats somewhere at the top, secluded from everyone so we could continue conversing during the movie, and when he’d teased me over how he’d never polished off a jumbo popcorn before, I thought he might reach to hold my hand. His fingers flexed on the armrest between us before he snagged a snack at random from our veritable hoard and opened it for me.

“Junior Mints?”

“Of course,” I whispered, savoring my life at that moment. Truly, hormones aside, this had to be one of the best days of my life, especially after the intense migraines and cold spells I’d been experiencing since the accident.

Ben’s inherent warmth chased away my troubles. Even if we didn’t hold hands, I found myself leaning over until our shoulders brushed, and that cued him to drape an arm across my backrest. To someone who’d never cuddled with the opposite sex before, that was loads better than worrying about how sweaty or cold or clammy my palm was.

When the lights came back on, I wanted to cry.

Ben stood to gather our trash, frowning. “You ate all that candy.”

“What? No, I didn’t. There’s still some left.”

“Willa, there’s a half empty box of M&M’s and the Red Hots you said you don’t like.”

“I know. Sorry, I should have spoken up sooner, but when you shook your head at the register and told the guy one of everything, I didn’t think you were serious.”

Ben laughed. “Yeah, well, I thought I’d save us and everyone else some time since you’d already rattled off four different snacks and didn’t seem inclined to stop.” He stretched around me to grab the empty popcorn container to carry the wrappers. “So consider me schooled. If you ever say you’re hungry enough to eat an elephant in the future, I’ll start googling the numbers of local zoos.”

“Ah, so he can tackle guys twice his size and wise up. The whole package.” I fake swooned into him, forgetting for a second that this wasn’t a male member of my family. While I braced myself for an inevitable shove, a squeak escaped when he wrapped his arm around me and tucked me into his side. I stilled, my brain short-circuiting at the newness of such a hold.

Oh, my inner voice cooed, this is nice.

“Hey,” he murmured, hunching down to catch my downcast gaze. “Is this okay?”

I nodded.

“You went quiet again. Are you sure? You’ve been so talkative. I was a little worried you’d get shy on me again in person.”

“No, I’m… This is okay. I like it. It’s just new, and it caught me by surprise.”

Why did I say that?

Why don’t you just hire a plane to skywrite how big of a loser you are, Willa Walker? Seventeen and never been on a date. I’m sure that will impress him.

As he guided us out to the parking lot, he tossed the trash one-handed with precision, reminding me that this was Ben Pierce, the all-around jock and popular guy. Despite his talk of stereotyping him, that’s what he was. The school had banner-sized photos of him plastered around, thanking various local businesses for their donations.

What did he see in me? How did conversation flow so freely without us running out of things to discuss?

We shouldn’t work at all, but it seemed like somehow, we did.

“So, listen,” he began, retracting his arm when we reached his truck, “I’m just going to come out and say it.”

I braced myself, goosebumps rising at the loss of his warmth.

He reached out for one of my hands and gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, as if to soothe my fears, before releasing it. His eyes, though, held me captive, never once breaking contact. “You’re really cool, Willa Walker, and I’d like to do this again sometime if you’re up for it.”

He was asking me on a second date?

Ben Pierce?

Sure, he’d hinted as much on the drive here, but it felt more like a tease or a flirty one-liner, and I’d forgotten for a moment just who he was.

Would we be able to make it work? It was summer now, but what about when school started?

“Willa?” he prompted, scratching the back of his neck. “You’re doing that thing again where you leave me hanging at the worst times. Are you planning out a speech?”

It was after nine, and the blazing sun had finally conceded defeat to the night.

Oncoming headlights hit his face at the moment he turned to me, and I wanted to hunt that random driver down and kiss them because they lit the soft expression and fondness dancing in his dark eyes.

Who cared if all we measured up to was a summer fling? my mind whispered.

Good old Lord Alfred Tennyson said it best: ‘Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that a lot.”