Maybe This Time

by Kasie West

  “What kind of drink?” I shut the fridge and leaned back against it.

  “A Shirley Temple,” Mr. Williams said. “Would you like one?”

  “Um …” I sucked my lips in. “Yes, actually.” I could handle the taste of cherries again. I actually liked them. Andrew and his kiss weren’t going to take that away from me.

  Mr. Williams whipped me up a drink, dropped two cherries into it, and handed it to me.

  “Thank you,” I told him. “What time is it?” I asked.

  Mr. Williams looked at his watch. “Eleven forty-five.”

  “I better get to my post,” I said.

  It had cooled off considerably outside, but there were still people at tables and walking about the lit gardens that surrounded the Barn. But as I made my way to the back, I was all alone. I undid the padlock and climbed the stairs. I reached the far wall and sat down next to the cord on the hook. I tapped my glass against it. “Happy New Year, date,” I said. I took another drink of my Shirley Temple. See, I could handle this.

  I pulled out my phone. I had several missed texts from Micah.

  Where are you?

  Me and Russell have been hanging out with Andrew, distracting him from you know who. You’re welcome.

  Where are you?

  I texted back: I’ve been put in charge of balloon release.

  Her response was nearly immediate: Lucky! Where is it?

  If I told you I’m sure I would immediately die. The ghost of the New Year would take me.

  I thought a baby represented the New Year. Are you saying a baby would kill you?

  Yes, that’s what I’m saying. Hey, make Lance hang out with you too. He looked like he was going to work right through midnight. Everyone deserves to have fun for at least the first minute of the New Year.

  Yeah, okay.

  I was bad. Here Micah was trying to live plan-free and I was meddling. But I knew, with the heart of a best friend, that Lance was a better fit for her.

  The band stopped playing and a voice said into the microphone, “Five minutes to midnight, y’all. We’ll play one more song, so grab the person you want to dance into the New Year with, and let’s fill up this dance floor!”

  The crowd let out a whoop and then music vibrated the wall against my back. I detached the cord from the hook and sat, holding it tight.

  Three more minutes.

  I bit my lip and got to my knees, then my feet. I leaned an elbow on the wall and continued to sip my drink. The dance floor was crowded and it was hard to make out everyone from up above. But I could see Micah. She had Lance on her left and Russell on her right. Andrew was there too, and she was teaching the three of them the steps to a line dance. Shelby wasn’t there and I scanned the room to find her. She was at the food table, grabbing a packaged mint from a large jar. We always had mints at the New Year’s Eve Barn Dance. Micah’s idea.

  Two minutes.

  I slipped out of my heels. My feet were killing me. The feet below stomped in unison as everyone did the jumping section of the line dance. I took my last swig from the cup. Only a few ice cubes and the two cherries sat at the bottom of the glass now.

  “One minute!” someone yelled out.

  Everyone cheered. My eyes went to Shelby, who looked around the room and began weaving her way through the crowd. Andrew looked around as well, like he just now realized he had less than a minute to find her. He stood on his tiptoes.

  Micah leaned over and said something to him. He shook his head.

  Andrew must’ve caught sight of Shelby because he squeezed Micah’s arm and left her with Lance and Russell.

  Thirty seconds.

  It was so strange viewing all this from above. I could see them—Andrew and Shelby—on a zigzagging path toward each other, and I’d be up here witnessing what happened when they met.

  The music stopped and into the microphone the singer called out, “Twenty, nineteen …”

  The crowd started counting down with her. “Eighteen, seventeen …”

  I tipped my glass to my lips and ate one of the cherries. Immediately the memory of kissing Andrew flooded into my brain. I looked at the cord in my hand. What was I doing? Was it really going to be me and this piece of rope at midnight? Was I really going to let Andrew just walk into Shelby’s lips?

  “Fifteen, fourteen …”

  I took a deep breath and yanked on the cord. The balloons spilled out of the net and a surprised cheer emitted from the crowd followed immediately by popping balloons. Pop. Pop.

  “Eleven, ten …”

  I dropped the rope, left the cup behind, and ran down the stairs barefoot. I ran around the Barn and into the crowded room.

  “Three!”

  I couldn’t find him.

  “Two!”

  Pop. Pop.

  “One!”

  I spun in a circle, greeted by only backs.

  “Happy New Year!”

  I pushed my way through bodies, trying to orient myself. Everything looked different down here and I didn’t remember where Andrew had been. People were hugging around me. I ran into a solid form and realized it was Russell, lips locked with my best friend. The sight made my heart fall. I pushed off to the left and battled my way through the crowd and floating balloons.

  “Lance!” I said, nearly running him over. “What are you doing?”

  “What?” He seemed clueless.

  “Nothing. Have you seen Andrew?”

  Lance shook his head and I took off. I couldn’t find Andrew. And I knew it was too late. I’d waited too long. Did I really want the next people I ran into to be Andrew and Shelby? I didn’t need to see that.

  I found my way back outside, around the Barn and back up the stairs. I downed the last cherry in the cup. I watched Lance weave aimlessly through the crowd below, occasionally picking up the remnants of the balloons, getting a jump on cleanup. The image depressed me. I turned to go.

  Andrew stood at the top of the stairs.

  My breath left me.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Happy New Year, Soph.”

  I took in a jagged breath.

  “You’re hard to find. And fast, by the way,” he said.

  It took me five large steps to close the distance between us and then I lost my courage. I stood, an arm’s reach from him, frozen.

  His courage was still intact. He wrapped one arm around my waist and lifted me up against his chest. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said.

  My toes brushed the floor and I nodded. He didn’t need more permission than that. He brought his lips to mine. I slid my arms around his neck and kissed him back. He tasted like cherries. Or maybe that was me. I didn’t even care; he tasted like heaven. I was kissing Andrew. And maybe he’d break my heart or be the great love of my life or maybe I didn’t need to know any of that right now, I could just enjoy this. I could enjoy being pressed against him, feeling each breath he took, each move he made. It felt like I was floating on air, dancing in the clouds in a billowy silver dress. He lowered me to the floor but didn’t let go, just pressed another kiss to my shoulder, then rested his cheek against mine.

  “Have you been eating cherries?” he asked.

  I smiled. “I’m sorry. I know you hate cherries.”

  “I love them now. So much.”

  I kissed his cheek, then looked at his beautiful face.

  “I have a confession,” he said.

  “What?” I asked, still breathless.

  He backed up a little and I realized his left hand was behind his back. He pulled it out, revealing a small blue flower. “I’ve had a relapse.”

  I tried to narrow my eyes in mock anger but it didn’t work.

  “But I know the girl who arranged them and I think she’ll forgive me.” He held it out for me. “Something beautiful for someone beautiful.”

  The line sounded just as cheesy this time around. But it also made my head float back in the clouds. I took the flower and brought it to my nose, then let it lightly brus
h against my lips.

  He watched me intently. “Are you going to say anything?” he finally asked.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Like, don’t leave?” I asked.

  “For starters.”

  “Like please talk your dad into taking the mentorship in Birmingham?”

  “You want me in Birmingham?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I want you here, but that’s the next best thing.”

  “I thought you were heading for New York after graduation,” Andrew said. “So I figured I’d better be there waiting.”

  Oh. “That’s why you didn’t push for Birmingham?” I asked.

  “Of course.” Andrew leaned closer to look at me. “You are heading to New York after graduation, right? I know you. You’ve realized you deserve to follow your dream.”

  He had figured me out. “I am heading for New York.” At least that’s what I hoped to do. I took a breath. “I’m not my father. Following my dream doesn’t have to mean abandoning my home and the people I love.”

  “Of course not. You love this place,” Andrew said.

  I smiled. “I do.”

  He nodded. “So we’re apart for five months. We can handle five months. Let’s give this thing a fighting chance,” he said.

  “This thing?”

  “Us.”

  “Us,” I agreed.

  “It could work,” he said, as if still trying to convince me. “We can text and call and send pictures.”

  I gave him a smile. “That does sound doable.”

  Andrew was quiet for a minute, then said, “I’ve wanted you near me since we sat in the back of an old boathouse together watching fireworks.”

  “You have? Huh. I still hated your guts that day.”

  He laughed. “I know.” He reached out, took my hand, and brought it to his lips. “So when did it change for you, then?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you getting so mad that Kyle was kissing someone else.”

  “I wasn’t mad that he was kissing someone else. I very much wanted him to be kissing someone who wasn’t you. But not if that hurt you. Not if you wanted it to be you.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Good. Because you kissed me that day.”

  “I know.”

  “And I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since.”

  “Me neither.”

  “You were really good at hiding that.”

  “You too!” I protested.

  “So … New York?” he asked, pulling me into his arms again.

  “Are we being crazy? Is this impractical?”

  “Who cares? Now is the time to fail spectacularly. We have our whole lives ahead of us to try again and again.”

  I smiled and closed my eyes.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. His lips brushed mine softly.

  I melted against him. He was warm and solid. I could feel his heart beating a steady rhythm.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” he said. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I’m so happy.”

  “Me too.” He pressed his lips to mine again. “Me too.”

  That Barn isn’t going to clean itself,” Micah said. She, Andrew, and I had wandered the grounds as guests started to leave and had found a stack of hay six bales high and just as wide. Andrew had boosted us to the top and we now lay side by side (me in the middle), looking up at the bright stars.

  “It might if we never go back,” I said.

  “I thought you said no animals live at this barn.” Andrew patted the straw beside him. “What’s with the hay?”

  “People use it for weddings. Seating or decorations or …” I trailed off.

  “You couldn’t think of a third thing?” Micah asked.

  “Can you?”

  “I probably could, but I won’t go there,” she said.

  “Where is your boy?” Andrew asked Micah.

  “My boy?” she repeated.

  “The one you were kissing earlier?”

  “He was a midnight kiss, Andrew. Don’t try to tie me down to someone I kissed at midnight.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  I smiled. That was a good sign for Lance. Micah had ended up actually talking to the beautiful boy and finding out that he didn’t fit her criteria.

  Andrew rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand.

  “Do you know that Sophie yelled at Russell about Birmingham?” Micah asked Andrew. “And how close it was and how easy it would be to visit her since he lived in Birmingham?”

  “You want Russell to visit you?” Andrew asked me with a grin.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what that was about.” I threw a piece of hay at him. Then I threw one at Micah. “And that’s not at all what I said, but whatever.”

  Andrew draped an arm over my waist and pulled me closer.

  Micah stuck out her tongue. “I might need to get a boyfriend if you two are together now. I can’t compete with this.”

  My eyes flitted to Andrew’s, wondering what he thought of Micah proclaiming us a couple. He seemed to read my mind because he just raised his eyebrows at me, like a question. I pulled on his already-loosened tie, bringing his face down to mine, and I kissed him.

  “Yep,” Micah said. “I definitely need a boyfriend. You have any friends in New York?”

  Andrew threw a piece of hay at Micah this time. “I thought I told you that I have no friends.”

  “Had,” I said. “You need to start using the word had in that sentence.”

  “True,” he said.

  “Micah!” The sound of Lance’s voice rang out through the crisp night air.

  Micah sat up. “He probably needs me to help clean. See you two later.” She hopped off the stacks of hay and went to meet Lance.

  “I’ve never seen her so anxious to clean,” Andrew said as she walked away.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what that was about,” I said for a second time. “Cleaning.”

  “You don’t think it was about … Ohhhh!” he said, realization dawning. “Good because I was kind of depressed when she kissed Russell.”

  “Me too.” I sat up to see Micah and Lance talking as they walked to the Barn together. I smiled.

  “When are you supposed to hear back from colleges?” Andrew asked.

  “Between now and February. I’m hoping more on the now side because I’m nervous.”

  “I saw your designs,” he said. “You have nothing to be nervous about.”

  I nodded. I was still anxious. But I was also more confident about my work than I’d been in a long time. “Thank you.”

  He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and then traced my earlobe with his finger. “So. I hear there’s this yearly Valentine’s Dinner at the old folks’ home around here.”

  “Yes, it’s a tradition,” I said with a shiver.

  “Want to be my date this year?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Things didn’t end well for my last Valentine’s date.”

  Andrew laughed and kissed my cheek. “I’m willing to take my chances.”

  “You’d come here for that? Don’t you think you’ll be working a completely different New York party?” I asked, running a hand along his tie.

  “No. I have a date.”

  I smiled. “Okay.”

  “Let’s go out this Friday too,” Andrew said.

  “What’s this Friday?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I’m starting a trend of seeing you outside of special occasions.”

  “How will that be?” I said. “To see each other just because.”

  Andrew pulled me close and together we looked up at the stars. “I think it will be perfect,” he said.

  Don’t miss Kasie West’s P.S. I Like You!

  Keep reading for a sneak peek.

  A lightning strike. A shark attack. Winning the lottery.

  No. I lined through all the words. Too cliché.

  I tapped my pen against
my lips.

  Rare. What was rare? Meat, I thought with a small laugh. That would go really well in a song.

  My pen drew a couple more lines, blackening the words to unrecognizable before I wrote a single word. Love. Now that was rare in my world. The romantic version, at least.

  Lauren Jeffries, the girl sitting next to me, cleared her throat. It was then I noticed how quiet the classroom was, how I’d slipped into my own space again, shutting out the world around me. I had learned how to keep my head down over the years, how to handle the occasional unwanted attention. I slid my Chemistry textbook over my notebook full of everything but Chemistry notes, and slowly raised my head.

  Mr. Ortega’s eyes were on me.

  “Welcome back to class, Lily.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “You were writing down the answer, I’m sure,” he said.

  “For sure.” It was all about acting unfazed, like I had no feelings.

  Mr. Ortega let it go, just as I hoped he would, and moved on to explaining the lab for the following week and what we’d need to read to prepare for it. Since he’d let me off the hook so easily, I thought I’d be able to slip out unnoticed when class ended, but after the bell rang he called out to me.

  “Ms. Abbott? Give me one minute of your time.”

  I tried to think of a good excuse to leave with the rest of class.

  “You owe me at least one minute seeing as how the last fifty-five were definitely not spent on me.”

  The last student filed out of class and I took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ortega,” I said. “Chemistry and I don’t get each other.”

  He sighed. “It’s a two-way street and you haven’t been doing your part.”

  “I know. I’ll try.”

  “Yes, you will. If I see your notebook out again in class, it’s mine.”

  I held back a groan. How would I make it through fifty-five minutes of torture every day without a distraction? “But I need to take notes. Chemistry notes.” I couldn’t remember the last time I took a single Chemistry note, let alone multiple ones.

  “You can have one sheet of paper, unattached to a book, that you will show me at the end of each period.”

  I clutched my green-and-purple notebook to my chest. Inside it lived hundreds of ideas for songs and lyrics, half-finished verses, doodles and sketches. It was my lifeline. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.”