by Cindi Madsen
The door to her dressing room swung open and I glanced up. Every ounce of oxygen left my lungs.
On the hanger, it’d just looked like a dress. On Kate, it looked… I didn’t have the words. It hugged her curves and brought out her sassy side while still holding on to the sweet. I got the stars thing now, because she glittered like the night sky.
“Well?” She swooshed the skirt from side to side. “What do you think?”
Speak. Say something. Don’t just stare and drool. “I think the last thing you have to worry about is not finding a date.” I stood. “You look amazing.”
Suddenly I understood her comment about a night of magic, too, because I was definitely under her spell.
“Thanks, Cooper.” She gathered the fabric of the skirt in her hands. “I think I’ll see if they’ll put it on hold, and then, when I ask Mick, I’ll celebrate by coming and picking it up—it’ll be my reward for being brave.”
Thinking of her wearing that dress at prom as she stood next to Pecker broke the spell, the slap to the face I needed to snap out of it. “Good idea.” My skin itched, the need to get out of here overpowering me. “Hey, do you mind if I head over to the sporting goods store? It’s just a few shops down, so you can meet me there after you’ve finished up here.”
“Okay,” she said. “I appreciate you sticking around to give me your opinion.”
What she wouldn’t appreciate was my real opinion, because I might not deserve her, either, but she deserved so much better than a dude who asked her guy friend if she was into hooking up.
If it wouldn’t break her heart, I might tell her anyway. She was a smart girl, though. She knew what she was getting into.
I was the one who was in way over his head.
…
Kate frowned at her phone as I pulled up to her house.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“I suppose it’s just more the law of averages.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna have to translate.”
Instead, she swiveled her phone to face me. Onscreen, a group of people smiled, all clad in swimwear. It took me a moment to see what had her so upset. Pecker stood front and center, and his arm was around Paris, who had on a teeny tiny bikini.
Kate’s shoulders slumped. “How can I compete with that? Clearly I can’t, or he would’ve called.”
“Kate…”
She shook her head. “It’s not like we’re an official couple. I’m not sure why I expected…” Her chin quivered, and crying seemed inevitable, and I didn’t have the slightest clue as to how to handle tears—not over Mick and some other chick. “Thanks for today. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
Before I could respond, she was out the door and up her driveway.
If she hadn’t looked so devastated, I’d celebrate. I even thought of going and knocking on the door and telling her that I’d take her to prom. Oddly enough, I found the idea didn’t seem so bad if it meant dancing with Kate while she was wearing that dress.
If it meant more time with Kate in general.
But I feared she’d consider it a pity date or a failure, and I wasn’t sure I could deal with coming in second place.
So I decided I’d at least give her the weekend. Next time we were together, I’d try to get a better sense of how she felt about me. And if she was open to it—if she’d give me a chance—I’d show her that I could be so much better than a guy who only paid attention to her when it was convenient.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kate
When my phone rang on Sunday afternoon, I carefully set down the gray and navy yarn, along with the half-formed beanie. Cooper might act like knitting wasn’t cool, but just wait until he had a warm hat to put on after a cold day of rowing next fall. Then he’d be thanking me.
I reached over to my nightstand and picked up my vibrating cell.
And nearly dropped it when future prom date flashed across the screen. Oh yeah. I still need to change that. Especially now, when it looks so unlikely.
Steeling myself, I answered. “Hello?”
“What’s up, sexy?” Mick asked, but before I could reply to that—or fully process his calling me sexy, because I’d probably end up asking if he’d dialed the wrong number—he added, “I think you and I should go see a movie tonight.”
“Really?” It sort of slipped out, but I stood by it. He hung out with Paris yesterday, and now, what? It was my turn?
But again, we weren’t dating. And technically I’d been with Cooper all day yesterday, and I’d hugged him. I’d say it was nothing more than a friendly gesture, but the way my heart skipped as I remembered it told a different story.
“Um. Yeah. Yesterday I was at the lake with a group of friends, so I missed your call. I was hoping we could hang out tonight, though. Just you and me. I’ll even let you pick the movie.”
His story about being at the lake with a group of friends matched up with the picture I’d seen. The image popped into my head again, because okay, I might’ve looked at it more than once yesterday after Cooper dropped me off. It seemed like proof of my failure to snag Mick, but I supposed if I took a more objective approach, a picture of his arm around another girl wasn’t exactly a smoking gun. He didn’t have his lips on Paris’s, at least, but I couldn’t help wanting to know if they had been at any point in the afternoon.
Demanding more facts would definitely not come across as casual and cool. And say he and Paris did…kiss or whatever. He wanted to take me out tonight on a real date, not just drag me along to a group hangout. That was progress, and could transition nicely to prom. “Okay. Let’s go to a movie. But I’m holding you to letting me pick.”
We went over details, said our good-byes, and I hung up the phone—before saying anything stupid, no less.
I resumed my knitting, pausing to turn up my show so I could hear the dialogue over the light clacking noise of the needles, and smiled as I thought about my upcoming date.
Mick never should’ve given me free reign to choose the movie, because I was getting a little sick of compromises. Tonight, he’d have to make one.
With that goal in mind, I balanced my yarn and needles in one hand, tapped my phone to pull up movie times, and looked for the girliest, most romantical movie out there.
…
Mick didn’t flinch when I told him I wanted to watch the romantic comedy.
The scent of movie popcorn overpowered me as we walked through the lobby—I suspected they piped the scent into the air vents, too, in the name of sales. Mick bought a bucket, asked what candy and soda I liked, and bought me those as well.
Armed with a giant Dr Pepper and sour gummi worms, we made our way into the dim theater. Mick told me to pick wherever I wanted, and I made my way to a fairly empty spot in the middle of the rows.
By the time the previews started, I was having a harder and harder time convincing myself to stay detached and cautious. I’d put a lot of time and effort into my crush, and now I got to sit right next to him and enjoy his chiseled features doing their perfect thing up close.
Yet I ate my candy, using it almost as a shield so he couldn’t grab my hand, whereas when this entire operation started, I would’ve needed it more to keep my hands busy because of nerves.
But that’s because I’m getting more comfortable around him, which is good.
Halfway through the movie, he moved my empty soda cup to the other side of him and lifted the armrest between us. Then he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and curled me close.
One Month Ago Me would’ve died and gone to heaven. And it wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy snuggling with Mick—the soapy fresh scent meant he’d showered recently, and I could feel the muscles in his arm flex every time he moved. There was certainly nothing wrong with the muscles in his chest, either.
I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why my excitement hadn’t reached levels of epic proportions until the drive away from the movie theater. He was in the middle of giving me a blow-by-blow of his last game of the
season—for the record, I’d asked, but I didn’t expect him to be so detailed. I figured he’d say it was awesome, not speak in foreign terms that made me think This is what Cooper deals with when I discuss my fandoms, only I’m pretty sure I explain better and at least add in a little extra flair to make it more entertaining.
And there it was. The thing holding me back from fully jumping in and squeeing like a girl at ComicCon who’d just met her favorite actor.
Instead of enjoying Mick’s cocky smirk, I missed Cooper’s easy, dimpled smile. Missed the ability to make random comments about fictional couples with smooshed together names and know that while he didn’t totally get my fandoms, he liked that side of me. I longed for the scent of his woodsy cologne, and the teasing, and the sense of security.
Ugh, I was about to mess everything up for a guy who only thought of me as a friend. A guy who’d actually balked when I’d asked him to touch my knee for a joke. In fact, almost every time he touched me, he jerked away like my skin had burned him.
Except for hugs—he ruled at hugs and seemed to be good with those.
Friends hug.
Occasionally we hold hands… Usually it’s more of a supportive gesture, one I need…
If he liked me as more than a friend, there was no way he’d be doing so much to help me land Mick. That was as much proof as I needed right there.
“…my house?” Mick asked.
My mind tried to replay his question, as if I had that sort of power. “I’m sorry. What about your house?”
“I asked if you wanted me drop you off, or if you could hang for a while at my house.”
I bit my lip. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and he swallowed, that kind of swallow guys did in the movies when they were thinking about the girl in a more-than-friends way. Did I really affect him like that? Did he expect more than kissing at his house?
“With school tomorrow, my mom expects me home,” I said, a strange mix of relief and disappointment going through me that I couldn’t simply let go and see what happened if I went home with him. “Maybe we could hang out at your house some other time?”
“Of course. You could come over after school tomorrow.”
“I’m supposed to go rowing with Cooper. I’m helping him train.” And with the Spring Festival race less than two weeks away, he’ll want to hit it hard, no doubt.
Mick reached across the console of the car and took my hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Maybe you could skip a day?”
A tingle worked its way across my skin. See? There was something there. I was just overanalyzing as usual, psyching myself out. “I’ll see what I can do.”
His signature smirk spread across his mouth.
“So, you said you were hanging out at the lake yesterday,” I said as he turned down my street. “Do you do that often?” I was fishing for information. So sue me. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself by asking him to prom, and the more intel I had, the better.
Of course he probably wouldn’t tell me if he had a date unless I brought it up. And I wanted to add that I’d seen a picture so my question didn’t seem so random, but then that’d make me look psycho, and I figured random was the better option.
“Now and then. Paris asked me to go, but honestly, the entire time, I couldn’t stop wishing you were there.” He pulled up in front of my house and put his car in park. His eyes met mine. “More and more I find myself thinking about you. There’s something about you, Kate. I can’t get you out of my head.”
Stuttered breaths fell from my lips, one after another, leaving me dizzy. “I’ve, uh, been thinking about you more and more, too.” Truthfully, I’d been thinking about him less than I used to, but I’m sure that was just because I was super busy.
He leaned closer, and thoughts about the many girls he’d kissed swirled through my brain, pushing my stupid insecurity about not measuring up to the forefront. If I sucked at kissing, would he still go with me to prom?
So I gave him the quickest peck ever, more an ambush than a kiss, and reached for my door handle. “My mom’s watching out the window. But, uh, see you tomorrow? And thanks for the movie and the snacks and everything.”
His mouth hung open, and the way he blinked at me made me think no other girl had left him hanging like that.
I’m so, so stupid. Why couldn’t I just kiss him? I blew it. I blew it, and now I’m not going to get to wear that pretty dress I put on hold.
I slammed the car door and rushed up the sidewalk to my house. Once I was inside, I leaned against my door and bumped my head against it a couple times.
My dream bubble bounced out of reach, headed toward sharp rocks that’d pop it for sure.
I’d already put half down on that amazing formal gown, money I couldn’t get back. But I didn’t want it back. I wanted to wear the dress. I didn’t want to wear it on a pity date, either. Senior prom was my last big high school event, and after a pretty meh experience, I wanted one night of big, dramatic romance, even if it took fancy expensive dresses and decorations to facilitate it.
I spotted Mom’s keys hanging next to the door—her friend Nadine had picked her up earlier for some dinner party they were going to. I had permission to drive the car in emergencies, and this was definitely an emergency.
After a quick check to make sure Mick’s vehicle was gone, I climbed into the car and took off, hoping a drive would help me untangle my thoughts.
Earlier I’d let my overly analytical side get in my way. My anxiety had mixed in with the thoughts of failure I experienced yesterday, and I’d gotten all confused and turned around. Friends were the people you were most comfortable with, so of course being around Cooper was easier than being on a date with the guy I’d crushed on forever and dreamed of taking to prom.
I couldn’t let my dream go without a fight. I’d let too much pass me by. I’d put so much time into it, too. I thought about the missions Dad and I used to do. We’d never failed one, not even when the package with Mom’s funky Scooby Doo salt and pepper shakers got hung up in Springfield, Massachusetts. We’d hopped in the car and driven two hours each way through a rainstorm so she’d have them on her birthday, not the day after.
The entire time Dad grumbled about how fast he could’ve flown there, while I gripped the handle over the window thinking we practically were flying.
No rainstorm stood in my way; no significant amount of miles. Nope, the only thing in my way now was me, and I wasn’t about to fail a mission now.
I had to do something to fix how awkward I’d been at the end of that date, and I needed to do it now, before I lost my nerve.
Even if it was drastic.
Even if it tested every boundary.
I scrolled through my contacts, found the one I was looking for, and called the number. “Can you meet me at the lake?” I asked as soon as he picked up.
“I’ll be right there.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cooper
I paced the dock near my house, the wood creaking underneath my feet. The stars shone brightly through the cloudless sky, but I couldn’t concentrate on constellations right now.
Headlights cut through the dark, growing brighter and brighter, and I lifted a hand to shield my eyes. Dust swirled around the SUV as it came to a stop, and then Kate climbed out.
My heart caught, and it took every ounce of my willpower to not run over to her. After all, there could be a hundred reasons she needed to meet, and most likely none of them were the one I wanted. The one where she realized she was as crazy about me as I was her, and we could forget Pecker and the Operation and everyone else.
“I know it’s late,” she said as she approached. Dark gray eye shadow covered her lids, she had on pale pink lipstick, and her lacy white top exposed one shoulder, adding to the sweet yet not-that-sweet look that drove me crazy.
“It’s okay.”
She twisted one of her curls around her finger, frantic energy radiating off her in waves. “Did I wake you up?
You sounded like I might’ve woken you up.”
I put my hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Kate. I’m here now. What’s going on?”
“It’s really embarrassing, and now I’m re-thinking it, and…” She glanced away. “It’s going to sound crazy…” She bit her lip, and my eyes focused there. “But then again…”
Her jitteriness transferred to me, stretching my nerves tight. I lifted one hand from her shoulder and cupped her chin, twisting her face back toward mine. “You know I’m here for you—no matter what it is. But I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“Tonight Mick took me to the movies. Then afterward, we were in his car, and… I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this…”
Ice coursed through my veins. If she talked about hooking up with Pecker, I was going to break something. His face might be a nice thing to start with.
“The last few times I’ve hung out with Mick, I’ve been sure that he’s going to kiss me… He leans in, and our lips will be so close to touching…”
Torture. Salt-on-an-open wound, burning, slicing torture.
“And I just freeze,” she said. “He senses it, because how could he not, and then things get awkward. Tonight I, like, slam kissed him. Even though our lips technically touched, it wasn’t even really a kiss. I freaked and bolted out of his truck as fast as I could.” That crinkle showed up in her forehead and her lips pressed into a tight line. “I think I blew it. I don’t think he’ll ever talk to me again—not unless I make the next move, and it’s got to be big.”
I sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Oh-kay.”
“Part of the problem is I get all psyched out because I start thinking about how many girls he’s kissed, and I only ever kissed one other boy, and it was horrible.”
“You’ve only kissed one guy?” I blurted out without thinking, but seriously, how could only one guy have kissed her? I’d wanted to kiss her from pretty much the first moment we started hanging out together.