by Keary Taylor
For two hours, the band plays, and I sing. The usual tracks of the country variety, a few pop and rock songs thrown in. I do my best with them. And it must be good enough, because everyone seems to be having a good time. A few times I even get whoops and hollers and clapping.
During one song, I forget the lyrics of the second verse, and I stumble for a bit too long. So I cover it up with some joke, the crowd laughs, and life moves on.
I don’t shrivel up and die. I don’t puke. I’m pretty sure I never turn green.
And to be honest, I have the time of my life.
I’ve always been scared of the stage. I’ve always screwed it up or done something to embarrass myself. But tonight, I own the awkward. I own the quirky.
And it works.
Finally, we announce the last song. Couples break off from groups. They stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. I pick out the McCain family couples. Drake and his wife. Kale’s sister, who’s name I don’t know. She and her husband are actually really good dancers. Lake and his brand new wife.
And to my surprise, there’s Kale, hanging out in the background with the dark-skinned guy who walked Riley down the aisle. From everything I know about Kale McCain, he’s always the life of the party, right in the middle of things, and always with a female.
Is he really waiting for me? Not finding another girl in the meantime?
Well, shock my innocent little heart.
I belt out the last note and as the background music dies away, everyone starts cheering and hollering.
“Well, that’s it for the night,” I say, trying to play it Kale. “You’ve all been a great crowd. Thanks for having us! And congrats to Lake and Riley McCain!”
And with that, the band breaks out into the “going off to the honeymoon” song and hand-in-hand, the two of them take off through the crowd and back into the house. Immediately, half the crowd heads for their cars, calling it a night. The other half stays to either clean up, or hang out.
Feeling as if I’m flying on a rainbow cloud, I hop off the stage and put my guitar back in its case. Just as I turn to go put it back in the van, I run smack into someone.
“Whoa, sorry,” Kale says as he grabs my guitar before it can crash to the ground for the second time today. “I’ve got to stop doing this.”
I laugh and grab the handle again as he hands it back. “You trying to kill me or something tonight? What are you, a serial killer?”
And I can instantly tell I took it too far and made it awkward when he gives me a look.
“Yeah…sorry,” I immediately say. “Like I said, I say the most awkward things.”
Kale laughs, and the instant he does, I feel more at ease. “It’s fine. Um, I’m going to help clean up for a bit, but do you want to go do something after?”
Pretty much every time Kale talks to me or looks at me, my heart does crazy acrobatics, and my skin starts doing strange things like tingling—and right now is no exception. I look back at the band. Ming is of course watching me like a hawk.
“She’s good,” Ming says, a bit too loudly and hastily. “She’d love to.”
Kale chuckles and waves at her. “Thanks. I promise to have her home before one?”
“Keep her as long as you like,” Ming says with a goofy smile on her face.
“Oh. My. Gosh,” I say in embarrassment.
“Hey, it’s cool,” he says. “Your friends seem…”
“Bananas?”
“I was going to say awesome,” he corrects with a smile. “Hey, where do you live? Maybe I can drop you off tonight?”
This is too much. Meeting the man I’ve fantasized about for the past two years, talking to him, touching him. Is this a date he’s asking me on, or what is going on? I might just spontaneously combust with all the epicness.
“Uh, Seattle, just above Lake Union?” I don’t know why I pose it as a question. I’m pretty sure about the location of where I lay my head down at night.
“Perfect,” he says. “I’m staying with my sister, Sage, in Bellevue so that’s not far away. Wait for me for a few minutes?”
“Okay,” I say timidly. And with a smile, he dashes off to clean up.
Ming suddenly jumps down from the stage, grabs my hands, starts jumping up and down, and squeals.
I give a victorious squeak of my own.
“’K, when you guys do the dirty-dirty tonight, don’t forget to use protection,” she says, a crazed grin on her face. “And then take pictures. Of him. Cause I don’t need to see your naked white self.”
“Ming!” I cry in horror. “I am not going to be doing the dirty-dirty with anyone tonight,” I hiss through clenched teeth as I look around to make sure no one heard.
“You’re going to have to do it with someone, someday,” she says, still far too excited for her own good. “You can’t hang onto your V-card for forever. It’s not healthy.”
“I’m done talking to you,” I say with a mock-irritated look in her direction as I head for the cake before it can be carted away.
I look back over my shoulder once, and she gives me a thumbs up as she waggles her eyebrows.
I often times question my choice in friends. But then I remember how much I love them.
“You did amazing,” Raelynn says as I get to the table that has the rest of the wedding cake on it. Like she knows exactly what I’m after, she cuts me a piece and hands me the plate. “You’re voice is so beautiful. I can’t believe you aren’t on the radio already!”
“Thank you, Mrs. James,” I say with a smile. “Maybe someday.”
“I bet if you tried, it’ll be within the year,” she says with a smile. Just then, Kale’s dad walks over.
“Nice job tonight,” he says with a warm smile in my direction. And the two of them carry the cake back into the house.
I wander back over to the fence and lean against it as I eat my cake. Cause suddenly, I realize I’m starving. I was too nervous about singing tonight to eat lunch. Cake probably isn’t my best choice for a meal, but hey, it’s amazing.
The band finishes loading up, and Ming dashes over to me.
“We’re ready to roll out,” she says as she dips her finger in the frosting of my cake and puts it in her mouth. “Are you sure you’re good tonight?”
Kale walks up from behind Ming and wraps an arm across her shoulders, easy as could be. “I promise to get her home safe and sound tonight.”
Ming jumps hard, her eyes growing wide as dinner plates, and gives him a look. He just chuckles, and I notice when he laughs, his nostrils flare slightly. It’s kind of adorable.
“See you tomorrow, Whit,” she says in a strangled voice. And then she shrugs out from under Kale’s arm and makes a beeline for the van.
“Still think my friends are awesome?” I ask with a wave of my frosting-covered fork.
“The frosting on your face is awesome,” he says with a smile. He steps forward, wipes at something on my on my cheek. He comes away with a glob of frosting.
Which he puts in his mouth as he holds my eyes.
Oh. My. Stars.
“And the humiliation of the night never ends,” I say as I cover my eyes with my hand.
Kale laughs again, something he always seems on the verge of. He pulls my hand away from my face and tugs me away from the fence. “Stop being so self-conscious. I think it’s cool that you’re different from all the other girls.”
“You saying that doesn’t make me feel much better,” I sigh as we start across the lawn toward the cars. I grab my guitar from where it’s leaning against a tree. “All the other girls you normally hang out with are probably perfect and never do anything weird or clumsy.” I mean, hello! He dated Angelique Harris for like five months. She’s beautiful, and famous, and perfect.
“All the other girls I normally hang out with are incredibly fake and never once genuine,” he says as he looks over at me. “They’re all about how they look and how they seem on the outside. Trust me, it gets kind of old after a while.”
<
br /> We stop just behind a gorgeous white Range Rover that Kale pops the back hatch on. I’m about to go all liquid impressed when the stunning woman that has to be Kale’s sister walks up. She’s dressed to the nines and looks incredible.
“Should I expect you home tonight, Kale?” she asks as she looks over at me and smiles. It’s friendly, but seriously, everything about this woman is intimidating. Confidence just rolls off of her. But in a different way than it does Kale.
“Yeah, but not until late,” he says as he takes my guitar and sets it in the trunk. “Uh, Whitney, this is my older sister Sage Dohring. Sage, this is Whitney Ford.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Sage says with a smile as she extends a hand. I try to manage a smile and shake it.
“You too.”
“Well, maybe we’ll see you in the morning,” Sage says as she hugs Kale and presses a kiss to his cheek.
I cringe that she says maybe.
This is his sister. She knows Kale well. And she thought it no big deal to say that maybe he’d be home in the morning.
I’m not stupid. I know Kale’s reputation for partying and girls.
Am I making a stupid mistake?
But the second Kale looks back at me, his eyes filled with genuine excitement, and everything he’s said all night, comes back to me. And how could I ever say no?
Kale opens the door for me and I slip inside, new car smell enveloping me. He climbs into the driver’s seat and carefully backs out, avoiding hitting the remaining clean-up crew.
“So, what did you have in mind tonight?” I ask as we roll down the gravel driveway.
“I’m not necessarily a plan-it-ahead kind of guy,” he says as he turns out onto the main road. “I haven’t really thought about it yet. Kind of figured we’d see where the night takes us?”
I smile and bite my lower lip. “Okay.”
I can be spontaneous. I can go for the random adventure.
But it’s not natural for me. My parents raised me to be responsible. To plan things out five, ten years in advance. That way there will be no unpleasant surprises.
So being with Kale, someone who flies by the seat of his pants, it’s…exhilarating?
“So, did you grow up in Washington?” Kale makes small talk. It’s something so average and mundane, it seems unnatural coming from him.
“Yep,” I say. Kale pulls at his tie and I try not to let the heat that suddenly ignites between my legs show on the outside. He tosses it in the backseat and undoes his top button. “Uh…yeah. Born and raised in Seattle. My parents both work as scientists at UW.”
“Which means you’re also way, way smarter than me,” he chuckles.
I shrug, too embarrassed to admit I’m nearly done with my master’s degree at the ripe old age of twenty-two.
“What about you?” I say, turning the conversation away from me. “With your career, you can’t live here. Where’s home these days?”
Kale shakes his head and for the first time all night, I see a seriousness grow in his eyes. “Who knows? It’s different every week. I mean, I own an apartment in New York since that’s where I am most often, but I’m constantly traveling.”
“That’s got to be difficult sometimes,” I say. He just shrugs. Like he either doesn’t want to talk about it, or maybe it really is no big deal to him. “How long are you here for?”
“I fly back to New York Thursday evening.”
I nod, and my mind reels, trying to think of what to talk about next. Get me in the right mood and I’m hyper and can talk about nothing-crap all night long. Put me with someone I just met, and oftentimes they’re wondering if I was born with my own personality or not.
As if sensing my uncomfortable state, Kale starts rambling about different places he’s visited in the past two years. Singapore, Africa, the UK, Hawaii. It all sounds so exotic and so exciting.
And it’s easy to tell that Kale loves what he does. Kale McCain loves himself, and it isn’t obnoxious or annoying or overly prideful or anything. He just is who he is, no apologies. He’s comfortable in his own skin and he is his own person.
“Where are we going?” I ask when Kale pulls off the freeway in Bellevue.
“We’ll figure that out soon.” And the way he says it, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have anything particular in mind. He’s out for adventure tonight.
Just a few minutes later, he pulls into the parking lot of some Christian Elementary school that’s not far off the freeway. A few lights dot the property, showing off a playground and a basketball court right next to each other.
“We’re so going to get in trouble for being here,” I say, actually a bit nervous as I climb out of the expensive car.
“Relax,” Kale says as I round the car. He, of course, has a smile on his face. “No one can see us with all those trees. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to not sound like an uptight, nervous ninny.
Kale nods his head back toward the playground and we take off.
There’s a basketball lying at the bottom of one of the hoops, and Kale scoops it up and starts dribbling.
“You play any sports growing up?” he asks as he shoots for the rim. It loops around it once before sinking down in. It bounces in my direction, and I clumsily dart after it.
I shake my head. “My parents thought anything outside of school was a waste of time and energy. I always wanted to give dance a try, though. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t be so vastly uncoordinated. What about you?”
I shoot, and miss, barely hitting the backboard. It hits weird, launching hard in the opposite direction of the both of us. Kale darts after it, catching it with little effort. “Nah,” he says with a shake as he makes his shot from far away. “You could say I kind of pissed my high school years away.”
“At least you had a normal teenage-hood,” I say as I grab the ball when it rolls to my feet. I dribble it a few times, getting a feel for the ball. “I bet you actually got to go to prom at some point.”
Kale grabs the ball and looks up at me. “You never went to a prom?”
And the look on his face, like this is the saddest thing he’s ever heard, it pulls a small smile from the corner of my lips. I shake my head.
“That’s not fair,” he says, his brows furrowing and shaking his head. “Every girl should get the chance to go to prom.”
I’m not sure what he’s doing when he sets the ball down at his feet and pulls his phone from his pocket. He clicks away on it for a minute, and then music starts playing from its speakers. It’s a good song, one I love playing acoustically. He smiles when he looks up at me.
He puts his phone down on the picnic bench that is just off to the side of the court. His eyes locked on me, he crosses back over.
“What are you doing?” I ask, nervous and giddy at the same time.
“Whitney Ford,” he says, a lopsided grin on his face. “Will you go to prom with me? At some elementary school off the side of the freeway, in the dead of night, on the basketball court?”
A laugh breaks from my chest. “Are you serious right now?”
“I’m dead serious,” he laughs. “A girl never getting the chance to go to prom is just plain tragic. So let’s remedy that.”
He’s holding his hand out, and I just look at it for a second. My heart is sprinting, excited and nervous and scared. But this is also the most fun I’ve had in a long time. So, I put my hand in his.
He pulls me out into the middle of the basketball court, and gently, he wraps one arm around me, his hand on my lower back. My heart rate kicks up another notch. He shifts our hands together, clasping mine tight. And slowly, he starts rocking us back and forth.
“How’s this?” he asks, his eyes intense beneath those dark lashes of his.
“Pretty good,” I say, hoping my breath doesn’t smell like cake. “Except I’m pretty sure there’s supposed to be balloons and a disco ball at prom.”
“Man, you’re hard to please,” he laughs, his nostrils flaring
just slightly again. “I’m doing my best here, woman!”
“I kid, I kid!” I laugh loudly. “This prom is great. Better than all the others I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m glad,” he says, his demeanor becoming slightly more serious. “And all those other guys were idiots for not asking you to prom.”
“Well, guys have never asked me to much of anything else ever, either,” I admit, my eyes falling away from his.
“What?” Kale asks in disbelief. “You’re like, the most gorgeous, fun girl I’ve met in a seriously long time. How could you not be getting asked out constantly?”
I look up at him, trying to tell if he’s serious. Guys like Kale just don’t say things like that to girls like me. But he is. He’s dead serious.
I shrug. “They usually think I’m weird. I’ve…” I hesitate in my confession. It’s embarrassing to admit, especially to someone like him. But, well, tonight has made me brave in a way I haven’t been in…ever. “I’ve only ever actually had one boyfriend. And that only lasted about two months.”
Kale actually shakes his head. “That may be the most shocking thing I’ve heard in years.”
I blush. And have no idea what to say.
The music changes, the song upbeat and energetic. And I totally can’t dance to this.
“Come on!” Kale says, an excited grin growing on his face. He lets go of my waist and grabs my hand. “Let’s play!”
Before I can do a thing, he’s hauling me across the grass toward the playground.
It takes about fifteen seconds for a game of tag to break out. We dart down the slides, over the climbing walls, and between swings chasing after each other. I squeal when he grabs me around the waist, sending both of us to the ground. He hoots and hollers as he pushes me higher and higher on the swing. My hair flies in the wind.
I feel free. I feel amazing.
I’m having the time of my life.
Playing on a children’s playground. In the middle of the night. With Kale McCain.
When suddenly, we’re engulfed in a blinding light.
“Excuse me,” a voice comes from behind the light. I squint against it, dragging my toes through the bark chips to slow myself down. Kale grabs my chains and instantly stops me. And crap. That’s a cop. “But this is private property, and you’re not supposed to be here.”