- Lily -
I could’ve stared into that boy’s eyes forever.
“What?” Sebastian asked, his smile crushing his cheek against the pillow.
“I can’t decide if we’re spending too much time smiling at each other.”
He slid his hand over the edge of my frayed jean shorts and pulled my leg over his hip. “Impossible.”
I trailed a finger down the front of his Strokes shirt.
“You’re the last person in the world who should feel bad about smiling right now.”
I swallowed.
“Six months ago I was worried you’d forgotten how.”
I raised my eyes to his.
“She’d be happy you’re smiling again, Lil. You know she would be.”
I sighed. “Thanks to your smile therapy.”
“TM,” he joked.
My eyes dropped to his lips, which had become both my favorite after-school activity and my greatest source of comfort since the lights went out behind my mother’s eyes.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye. By the time I’d pried Paige from the wreckage, it was too late. Now anytime I saw something dripping, I’d think of the blood seeping from around her hairline and the frightened look in her eyes before the paramedic closed them. That was what I regretted most, actually. Not the fact that she was dead, but the fact that she’d spent the last year of her life living in fear.
Maybe more, for all I knew.
“Hold still,” he said, reaching towards my face. “You have an eyelash.”
I closed my eyes while Sebastian gently pinched the top of my cheek.
“Did you get it?” I asked.
He extended his pointer finger in my direction. “Make a wish.”
“No, you take it,” I said. “You always give me your wishes.”
He fixed his eyes on me. “Only because my wish already came true.”
Warmth spread through my cheeks. “You’re sure?”
He nodded. “Make it a good one.”
I wished Sebastian would love me forever and then blew the eyelash away.
He ran his fingers through his thick hair, messing it out of shape before bringing a hand to my breast and squeezing it lightly over my shirt.
I rolled my eyes, but the truth was that I loved having his hands on me. No matter where he put them, I could feel his goodness, his affection for me sinking into my body.
“This is what you wished for, isn’t it?” he asked, smirking like a kid who’s gotten away with something.
“Nope. Why would I waste a wish on something you were bound to do anyway?”
“Good point.” He leaned forward and kissed me lightly, sparking curls of heat that started between my legs and spread up through my stomach.
His fingers had just found their way under my shirt when we heard a knock.
“We have an open door policy in this house,” Mama Rod’s voice announced.
“We’re studying!” Sebastian said, sounding suspiciously breathless. “Even though we can’t even hear ourselves think with Javier’s video games blasting next door.”
“Nice try,” she said. “Open the door right now.”
I popped up, unzipped my backpack beside the bed, and pulled a stack of notebooks out while Sebastian went to open the door.
She poked her head in, balancing a laundry basket on her hip. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Lily?”
“I can’t,” I said, my spine so straight I might as well have been nailed to a cross. “I have to pick Paige up from After School All Stars.”
“In that case, I made too much food,” she said. “So I’ll set some lasagna aside for you. Just grab it from the kitchen before you leave.”
“You don’t have to keep feeding us, Mrs. Rodriguez.”
“I’ll be offended if you don’t remember to take it,” she said, shooting me a look that let me know she meant business.
I nodded. “Okay, thanks.”
Her eyes smiled at me with just enough pity that it felt like a welcome hug. Then she turned her attention to Sebastian and raised a finger. “Open door policy. Don’t make me tell you again.”
“Got it, Mama.”
She disappeared into the hall, and when we heard the laundry closet open, Sebastian moved the door until it was only open a few inches.
“You have to tell her to stop sending me home with food every day,” I said. “Feeding us is not her problem.”
He hopped back onto the bed and leaned against the wall under his AC/DC poster. “You must have my mom confused with somebody who wants my opinion.”
I laughed. “Seriously, though.”
“Seriously, Lil. It’s not charity. It’s just her way of letting you know she cares. She can’t help it. It’s genetic.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“That’s why everyone in her family is so fat.”
“Sebastian,” I scolded. “That’s terrible.”
“Just calling it like I see it,” he said, raising his palms. “You came to our last family barbeque.”
“I admit your Uncle Rob is the biggest guy I’ve ever met.”
“Of course he is,” he said. “Because everyone loves him the most.” He removed the notebooks from my lap and pulled my legs across his.
I reached for his pillows, propped them up behind me, and leaned my head against the wall. “You’re a terrible study partner.”
“It’s your fault.”
I leaned back. “What?”
“How can you expect me to stare at a book when you’re wearing those sexy shorts?”
“Next time I’ll change into sweats first.”
“And a hockey mask.”
“Sebastian, I have to keep my grades up. Ever since the accident, all the teachers have been treating me like they’re waiting for me to have a breakdown.”
“They’re not waiting for you to have a breakdown,” he said. “They’re just trying to cut you some slack.”
“But that’s not what I need. What I need is for people to stop treating me like that poor girl with the tragic story.”
His eyes turned down at the corners.
“When is that going to happen? When are people going to stop whispering about me and treating me like I’m a terrible person if I don’t admit I’m an awful mess?”
“Fuck ’em.”
“What?”
“Fuck ’em.”
His face was so serious I couldn’t help but smile.
“Someday every faculty member at that school and every student—except for me, obviously—will be nothing but a two-dimensional, black-and-white image in an inconsequential history book you’re never even going to open.”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Except maybe to look at my yearbook picture, but why would you do that when I’ll still be by your side, getting more handsome all the time?”
“I don’t believe it.”
“That I could get more handsome or that you’re never getting rid of me?”
“The first one.”
He pushed some hair behind my ear. “There are only three people you have to impress,” he said. “Paige and me, who are your number one biggest fans. And yourself. So forget everyone else, Lil. They don’t matter.”
I pressed my lips together.
“And you get to decide what your story is, nobody else. Just because someone else thinks you’re the girl with the sad story doesn’t make it true. What’s true is whatever’s true for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, sliding my hand in his.
“Besides, everyone knows you as the girl with the awesome boyfriend anyway, so stop being so self-centered already. It’s not even you they’re whispering about.”
“Silly me. Of course it’s been you all along. What a relief.”
“Sorry to break it to you so suddenly, but it’s about time you knew.”
I cracked a smile. “The truth is hard to hear, but I appreciate your honesty.”
His big brown eyes crinkled at the edges, and I could see how pleased he was to have picked me up, though how he could do it so often and without losing enthusiasm was a mystery.
I mean, I may have been young and inexperienced, but I was old enough to understand that what we had was more than puppy love. It was real and solid, and I knew deep in my bones that there was no amount of leaning on him that would ever drive him away.
“Okay,” he said. “Last question before we do some work.”
“Shoot.”
“What do you want to do for your birthday this weekend?”
I was afraid he’d ask that, and frankly, I didn’t really see how my sixteenth birthday could possibly be sweet without my mom around. “I don’t know. What are my choices?”
“You have three options.”
“Great.”
“We can throw a kegger down by the lake.”
“Where are we going to get a keg?”
“That’s for me to worry about if you pick that option.”
“Who’s going to come to a kegger hosted by the police chief’s son?”
He scrunched his face. “Anybody who’s thirsty?”
“Next option.”
“We can do something small,” he said. “With just our families.”
I shook my head. “Ixnay on any options that create work for your mom.”
“Look, if you wanted to have a laundry party, she’d probably be disappointed, but she loves to cook. This option was her idea.”
“What’s option three?”
“Option three is we picnic by the lake at that spot where we’ve…enjoyed nature before.”
I smiled. “I pick that one.”
“As you wish,” he said. “Make sure you tell your dad in advance so he doesn’t plan something else.”
As if that would happen. He probably doesn’t even know it’s my birthday this weekend.
“How’s he doing by the way? I haven’t seen him around much lately.”
Only because you’re not old enough to hang out at Suzy’s Alehouse. “Things are getting better,” I lied.
Though I had no idea then just how big of a lie it was.