by Sonya Sones
and puts his arm around my shoulder.
“So,” he says. “You hate chemistry?”
“Not anymore,” I say.
He laughs and says, “Seriously, though.
Are you passing? Flunking? What?”
So I tell him the truth—
that I’m actually doing fine.
That I’ve got a B+ average
in the class.
That I was just in a rotten mood yesterday
when I was complaining to my mom.
“Well,” he says, “then I guess
you’ll have to start getting some Ds.
And then, very slowly,
work your way up toward Cs.”
I Shudder and Bite My Lower Lip
Because when you’ve worked hard
and done well in school all your life,
it’s not easy to wrap your head around
trying to get Ds.
But when I tell Luke that messing up
in chemistry will ruin my grade point average,
when I tell him I want to go to college,
a good college,
he just pats me on my head
and tells me not to worry.
When I say I don’t like the idea
of flunking tests on purpose,
he laughs and says we’ll bring
my grade back up by the end of the year.
When I ask him if he’s sure about that,
he doesn’t answer.
He just leans in and kisses me.
I’m Sitting Here in Chemistry
Taking a quiz
on vapor pressure and liquids
and how they reach
their boiling point,
feeling like
I’m about to reach mine.
I know
every single answer,
but Luke told me to get
at least a third of them wrong.
He said if I do too well,
there won’t be any reason
for him to keep on
“tutoring” me.
Though this pretending-to-be-dumb thing,
I didn’t know it would make me feel
like I’ve got the starring role
in a very bad play.
At Lunch
Rose asks Taylor and me
how we did on our chemistry quiz.
I mumble something about
boiling points being my downfall.
“But that quiz was easy,” Taylor says.
“And since when do you have a downfall?”
“Yeah,” Rose says. “You are, and always
have been, a downfall-free zone.”
She’s right.
I always have been.
But am I anymore?
A Few Days Later
Luke’s waiting after school again,
to drive me to the library
for our second weekly “tutoring” session.
We go up
to the same study room as before
and he pulls the blinds closed.
He starts kissing me right away.
But they’re those crushing kind of kisses.
Not the romantic kind.
He backs me up against the wall,
and grinds his body against mine
till it feels like I’m getting black and blue.
“I’ve been trying to take it slow,” he whispers.
“Trying so hard . . . But I’m not sure
I can go on like this much longer.”
“I’m not sure I can either,” I say.
And as he eases me down onto the chair
next to his, and unzips his fly,
he’s completely unaware
that my words
mean the opposite
of his.
He Presses My Hand Down onto Him
An eternity passes.
Then, just after Luke finally finishes
and zips his fly back up,
the door
to the study room
springs open!
A guy says, “Whoops. Sorry.
Didn’t know anyone was in here.”
“No problem, mate,” Luke says with a smile.
But as soon as the door closes,
it slips from his face.
“That was a bloody close call,” he says.
And suddenly I’m shaking.
I’m shaking and I can’t stop.
“We shouldn’t come here anymore,” I say.
“Don’t worry, Lily. I’m working on
finding a better place for us. And until then,
we’ll just have to be a little more careful.”
“A little more careful?” I say.
“Okay,” he says with a chuckle.
“A lot more careful.”
On the Way Home
I stare out the window of the car
and notice pumpkins
grinning at me from front porches
all over the neighborhood.
Their burning eyes
remind me of Luke’s.
It’s hard to believe
Halloween is only two weeks away.
They say time flies
when you’re having fun.
But I guess it flies
just as fast
when you’re having no fun
at all.
On Saturday, I Go to a Sleepover
And even though I’m sitting right here
in the same room with Taylor and Rose,
I feel like I’m on
an entirely different planet.
Because when Rose starts talking
about her all-consuming crush on Quinn,
and Taylor starts gushing about Evan
and about how much he misses him,
I can’t really chime in and tell them
about my “tutoring” sessions with Luke.
If they knew how old Luke really was
and what we were doing, they’d freak.
And they don’t make it any easier
when they bring up the topic of Presley.
Which of course they do, since talking about
him seems to be their new favorite hobby.
Rose says she knows why
I told him I only want to be friends.
And Taylor says it’s obvious
that I’m still sneaking off with my “perv.”
I deny it—but they don’t believe me.
The Next Morning
When we go to Bella’s,
she says she needs my help in the back room.
Which is just a way to get me alone
so she can ask me personal questions.
Like: “So how’s your love life been lately?”
I tell her it’s nonexistent.
But she sees through me
as easily as if I’m made of Saran Wrap.
I can tell
by the look on her face.
Though she doesn’t
say anything.
She just offers me an oatmeal cookie,
the tiny bells in her skirt tinkling.
And for some reason,
the sound of them makes me feel
like crying.
At Lunch with the Triatomics
I’m listening to Rose talking about
how excited she is that Quinn asked her
to the Halloween dance.
And about how
they’ve already begun working
on their Beauty and the Beast costumes.
I’m listening to Taylor swooning
about how thrilled he is that Evan’s
coming to town for the festivities,
and about how he can’t wait for us to meet him,
and about how they’re planning to go to the dance
dressed as Chicken and Waffles.
I’m listening
to both of them going on and on and on
and suddenly I find myself wishing
dressing up as a camera and a tripod
or whatever—
wishing that my life
was as simple and uncomplicated
as theirs.
At Our Third “Tutoring” Session
Luke tugs down the venetian blind.
Then he pushes his chair
right up against the door.
“I’m still looking for a better place,” he says.
“But in the meantime, at least no one
will be able to barge in on us.”
Even so,
the whole time I’m touching him,
my blood’s pounding in my ears.
Then, when he finally finishes, my phone buzzes.
It’s a text from Rose, with a photo attached.
She’s modeling a poufy yellow prom gown.
Below it she’s written: 1st try at my Beauty
costume for the dance. Thoughts?
Luke glances at my screen.
“Your school’s having a Halloween dance?” he asks.
“Why?” I sigh. “Are you gonna ask me to go?
Like a real couple?”
“How I wish I could,” he says.
“Though we are a real couple, Lily.”
“Yeah,” I say. “A real couple
who can’t even be seen in public together.”
Luke Pulls Me onto His Lap
He says he wishes things were different.
He wishes we could go on dates.
He wishes he could take me to the dance.
Then he pauses, like he’s thinking.
And a second later, his face lights up—
like he’s gotten the best idea ever.
“You know what?” he says. “You should go.
Go to the dance with Taylor and Rose.”
“I . . . I should?” I say.
“Absolutely. Just because
we can’t celebrate Halloween together,
that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to.”
I can feel
my pulse quicken.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” I say.
“Of course not,” he says, kissing my cheek.
“Just put on a clever costume and go out
and have a brilliant time with your mates.”
And
I’m so excited,
I hardly even mind
when he unzips his fly again . . .
It’s Hard to Come Up with a Costume
When you aren’t
half of a couple.
I obsess over it for a few days,
bouncing ideas off the Triatomics.
But in the end,
I just give up
and decide to go
as Little Red Riding Hood—
because Taylor has an old red cape
with a hood attached that I can borrow,
and Rose has
a nice little red skirt.
Besides, I know a thing or two
about how to handle the Big Bad Wolf.
Way more than
I’d like to know.
Before the Dance
We all meet up at Rose’s house.
And even though Evan is dressed as a waffle,
I can see right away why Taylor likes him.
Because when we’re introduced, he gets this
real serious look on his face, and asks me what
I’m bringing to Grandma’s house in my basket.
He says he sure hopes
it isn’t chicken. Or waffles.
And we all crack up.
I can see why Rose likes Quinn, too.
His Beast costume shows off his broad shoulders.
He looks like he walked straight out of a love story.
And the way he beams at her—
you can see how much he admires her.
And not only because she’s pretty.
Both couples seem . . .
Well, they just seem
so meant-for-each-other.
I used to think Luke and I
were meant-for-each-other too.
But lately,
I’m not so sure.
Rose’s Brother Drops Us Off at School
We weave through the throngs of trick-or-treaters
on the sidewalk, and head into the dance.
It’s amazing what a bunch of pumpkins
and gauze and plastic skeletons can do for a gym.
And with the fluorescent lights
turned off like this, and just a bunch
of tiny orange bulbs twinkling everywhere,
you could almost say it has atmosphere.
I’m dancing with Taylor and Evan and Rose
and Quinn, only feeling a tiny bit sorry for myself
that I don’t have an actual date—
when Presley shows up!
He’s dressed as a woodcutter.
I shoot Rose a look, but she tries (and fails)
to act like she has nothing to do
with this astonishing “coincidence.”
Presley doesn’t say anything.
He just grins,
slings his cardboard ax over his shoulder,
and starts dancing with me.
He’s got great moves—
cool, but kind of goofy at the same time.
Like he’s poking fun at his own dancing skills.
It’s . . . It’s ridiculously adorable.
After a Half Hour
Of the best time
I’ve had in forever,
the DJ starts playing a slow song.
Rose rests her head
on Quinn’s shoulder.
Taylor holds Evan tight.
Presley and I watch, as both couples
close their eyes and begin to sway,
drifting off into the crowd.
Then he turns and looks at me,
like, Do you want to?
And I tell him with my eyes that I do.
He smiles and holds out his arms.
But just as I’m about to slip into them,
a dark shadow looms up from behind him
and this guy wearing a wolf mask
steps right in front of him,
slips his hands inside my cape,
wraps his fingers around my waist,
and before I even have a chance to protest,
he dances me
away.
I Glance Back Over My Shoulder
And see
Presley’s face,
see the shock
and disappointment.
His shoulders sag
as he turns and walks off.
I’ve got to go after him!
I struggle to break free.
But the hands around my waist
just tighten their hold.
And the menacing gleam in Luke’s eyes
seems to paralyze me.
Here We Are
Finally out in public together.
As close as we’ve ever gotten
to being on a real date.
And because Luke’s wearing a mask,
and the lights are down so low,
he can hold me as close as he wants.
There was a time
I’d have given anything to be out
with him like this, dancing in his arms.
Though now that it’s actually happening,
his arms feel like tentacles,
squeezing the life out of me.
“It was almost too easy to sneak in here,”
he whispers. “I just went round back
and told them I was helping out the DJ.”
He grabs my hips under my cape
and grinds up against me, murmuring,
“I knew you’d love this surprise.”
But I don’t love it.
I don’t love it
at all.
As the Song Nears Its Finis
h
Luke’s holding me so tight
I can’t breathe.
He whispers in my ear, “You’re such
a sexy Little Red Riding Hood.”
He growls softly and nips at my neck.
A chill runs up my spine.
And the whole time, he’s dancing me
closer and closer to the back door,
telling me that as soon as this song ends
he’s going to whisk me away from here.
“Then we’ll have three whole hours
to be alone together,” he says.
“And the Halloween dance
will be your alibi.”
The Second the Music Stops
Luke tugs me
toward the exit.
I try to pull his fingers off my wrist,
but his grip is like a handcuff.
“But I . . . I just got here,” I say.
“I don’t want to leave yet.”
“You’ll have even more fun,” he says,
“where we’re going.”
“Where are we going?” I ask,
trying to keep the wobble out of my voice.
“It’s a secret,” he says,
shoving open the door.
I take one last glance
back over my shoulder,
hoping that I’ll see my friends
rushing to my rescue.
But I don’t see
Taylor or Rose anywhere.
And I don’t see the woodcutter either.
We’re Driving Through the Dark Streets
Jazz oozing out of the speakers,
when I get the first text:
Hey Lil. Where r u?
Tay n me can’t find u anywhere.
“Who’s it from?” Luke asks.
“Rose,” I say. “She and Taylor
want to know where I am.”
“Well, tell them . . . tell them
you got food poisoning,” he says.
“Tell them your mom came and got you.”
So I do—because if I told them the truth,
it’d probably wreck the dance for them.
But then, a few minutes later,
my phone buzzes again.
Luke shoots me a look.
This one’s from Presley:
Rose says ur sick. Anything I can do?
“Who is it this time?” Luke snaps.
“Oh, it’s just . . . just my friends again.
They’re worried about me.”