Anthony is suddenly at the edge of the pool, the water churning with white spray. He faces the guy, dripping water, a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Come again?”
The guy holds up a hand in apology. “Just a joke. Sorry, man.”
My knees go a little wobbly. My protector from all kinds of snakes. The gesture lights a hopeful spark in my chest. Until he faces me. He does not look happy. “You need whatever it is now?”
“Right now.”
Delia tilts her head up to him from the edge of the pool. “You’ll be back?”
He grabs someone’s crumpled towel off the cool deck and wipes his face, rubbing the cloth through his hair quickly. “That’s the plan.”
Not my plan. The words pop into my head, and I want to snap at this girl to back off. But Anthony is already on the move.
He’s supposed to be following me, but instead he leads, grabbing his shirt from a chair and pulling it on as he heads through the house and to the front door. He’s dripping water the whole way, his feet bare and his strides long. I have one second to look Josie’s way as she holds up her crossed fingers. Then he pushes open the front door, holding it until I’m through. He slams it shut behind us. My heart looks for a way out of my chest. No luck.
I take a breath of warm air, ordering myself to stay calm. The street feels blessedly quiet after the music and noise of the party. Shadows are creeping along the sidewalk. Even long summer days come to an end. But I don’t want to think about endings.
Anthony starts down the street. The pavement must be hot under his soles, but he doesn’t slow, not stopping until he gets to his car. He faces me, folding his arms over his chest. As unmoving as a statue. “We both know you didn’t leave anything in here. So what do you want?”
I lick my dry lips. My Brilliant Red is long gone, and I wish I had more on for courage. “There’s something I want to say.”
His voice is clipped, his eyes unreadable. “I think we said everything we needed to earlier.”
“No! It all happened too fast. You didn’t give me a chance to think, and I…I…” I swallow and take a breath. “We should talk, Anthony.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, tiny droplets flying to the pavement. “What do you want to say, Mai?”
“That we don’t have to end things. We can finish our fling.”
He rolls his eyes. “That’s real generous. But I’ll pass.” He starts back toward Jason’s house.
“Wait!” I cry. “Don’t leave.” I rush to catch up to him. “Please, can we talk?”
He turns back, eyes burning. “What’s the point? I’m going back to the party so I can be with a girl who doesn’t mind if she’s seen with me.”
“Anthony, don’t!”
But he’s already moving away. His stride lengthens, and I have to jog to catch up, panic I don’t understand pushing me to reach him, to stop him. “Anthony. Please!” I grab his arm. The muscles are tight as wound rope, but I don’t let go. He drags me along like I’m not even there. Tears of frustration fill my eyes. “I took you back after the spring. You’re supposed to take me back now. That’s what Josie said.”
“Josie?” He stops at the edge of Jason’s yard. The streetlights flicker on above, a humming noise announcing the official arrival of dusk. He turns to face me. “You told Josie?”
Crap. Another mistake. I drop his arm, wiping a few tears from my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to.”
His eyes seem to melt and burn all at the same time. “You told her about us?”
“I did. Tonight.” My heart is pumping hard like it knows something I don’t.
His voice dips. “Why?”
“I couldn’t keep hiding it. I wanted to tell her. And I got so mad when you picked that…that…”
“Delia,” he says.
I shove his chest.
His brows shoot up. “What’s that for?”
“For picking her to be your pool chicken partner.”
“You and I broke it off. Remember?”
I sniffle, lifting my chin. “It was this morning, Anthony. There’s a mourning period when a fling ends. Twenty-four hours before you have another girl’s thighs around your neck.”
His lips soften a little. “You were jealous.”
“It wasn’t jealousy.” I muster what’s left of my pride. “It’s common fling etiquette.”
“And what about Grant?”
My cheeks flush. “It’s not like that with Grant. I don’t want to date him, or kiss him, or be his pool chicken partner.”
He watches me, and I know he’s wondering if he can believe me. “And what if I had asked you to be my partner tonight?”
“You would have won first place.”
He smiles, but it flickers on his lips for just a few seconds and then fades. A darker emotion fills his eyes, thickens a frown line across his forehead. The door opens, distracting us both. Four guys spill out, their wet flip-flops hitting the walkway. A light flares and smoke rises, gray and bitter from whatever they’re smoking. Abruptly, Anthony faces me again. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
He takes my hand, and I don’t really care where. He’s going a little too fast, and I don’t care about that, either. Even though I have no idea where we’re headed, it feels like the right direction. We pass his car, and a few houses down we come to a small neighborhood park. Grass, a couple picnic tables, and a sandy playground with swings and a slide set. No one else in sight.
He lets go of my hands, slides them in the pockets of his board shorts. “You once told me my kisses make you stupid. You remember that?”
“I remember.”
“I liked that. The idea of it. But now…” His throat works over a thick swallow. “I don’t want to be your mistake, Mai. Your lapse in judgment. And I don’t want to be your fling.” He steps back. “The question is: what do you want?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Anthony
The night is pressing in on us. On me. My question is hanging in the air, growing bigger with every second she doesn’t answer. She told Josie. That has to mean something—but what?
Mai walks to where the swings are, grabbing a chain like she needs something to hold on to. I feel the same way. Walking across the sand feels like walking to the plate during the championship game. My mouth is dry, my palms sweaty. I don’t know what I’m about to face, just that the stakes are so damn high.
“What I want and what’s possible seem like two different things.” She settles on the swing. “I’m leaving. You’re leaving.”
I sit on the swing beside her. “That’s geography.”
“What about our plans? The way we want to live.”
“Plans can change, right? If we’re willing to let them.”
Her swing creaks as she pivots toward me. “Are you willing to let them? Change?”
“I am if you are.”
She chews her lip. “How would we do this?”
I sigh. She wants me to hand her a syllabus with everything spelled out. As if I know any more than she does. “No plan, Mai. No rules. We just do it. Take the leap. Like when you were a kid and you jumped off the swings.”
Her swing rattles as she pushes back. “I never jumped off a swing.”
“Not even once?”
“No. My mom said I would crack open my head.” Her hands tighten on the chain. “And I never will, so quit looking at me like that.”
I grin. “That’s your problem right there. If you’d jumped back then, you’d know that you could do it now. And I don’t just mean the swing part.”
“Why does it have to be a jump? Why can’t it be nice, measured steps?”
“Maybe it can be,” I say. “It doesn’t feel like such a leap to me anymore. Us, together.” I slide my feet through the sand, stretc
hing my swing until I’m close enough to grab her swing and pull her close. Then I think, What the hell? I need to take my own advice and jump. “Mai.” My throat’s so tight, her name is almost a whisper. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m falling for you.”
Her eyes widen, and a startled breath escapes.
I wrap my hands around hers where they’re clutching the chains. “Yeah, I know it wasn’t part of the plan. I’m not thrilled about it, believe me.”
She purses her lips. “Well, that’s highly unromantic.”
“Now you want romance, Dumpling?”
Her smile hits my bloodstream and starts it bubbling. “That is still the worst love name ever.”
Jeez, this girl. I dip my chin, locking gazes. Her eyes are so deep I want to dive in there and figure out the mystery of who she is, why she does this to me. I lean close to kiss the tips of her fingers, making the swing rattle again. “I’m asking you to be my girlfriend.”
Her eyes get that soft, unfocused look I love. “Oh.”
“No more hiding. We go back to the party—as us.” I rub my thumbs over her knuckles, feel her fingers loosen. “I want to pick you for pool chicken, and I want everyone to know you wore that lipstick for me.”
I drag her a few inches closer until her knees are between mine. The swings are in the way of getting her as close as I want. I lift her up, and she yelps in surprise before swinging her legs over my thighs. I let her swing go and then mine, spinning back around and twisting us with a hard push in the sand. She clings to my shoulders, burying her face in my neck. She smells good—like honey and cinnamon. I keep one arm secure and tight around her back. I want her to feel safe. And I just really like holding her this way.
When we settle to a stop, she leans back and smiles. “You want a lot of things.”
“I’m just getting started.” I run a finger over the tiny bow at the center of her suit. The one that’s been teasing me all night. “I want everyone to know at the trail project—including Grant. Especially Grant,” I add. “I want our parents to know. And if you’re bringing a guy to a dinner, I want that guy to be me.”
“Anthony.”
“What?”
Her smile fades. She leans back, but this time I can tell it’s to put distance between us. There’s a look on her face—I can’t read her eyes because she’s got her face down. As if she’s hiding something. “What?” I ask again.
She finally looks up. “I want those things, too. As much as you do.” Her fingers squeeze tight on my shoulders. “But can we slow down a little? I know this has been building between us for months. But it’s brand-new for my parents. I can’t spring it on them all at once or they’ll know I’ve been lying. Can we start with you meeting them? As my friend.”
“You think they’ll be okay with that?”
She pushes my hair back over my forehead, her fingers gentle. Careful. Like I matter. “If they get to know you, they will.”
I like the sound of that. “Well, I can be charming.”
Her smile shoots like a dart to my heart. “When you want to be.”
I hold her gaze. “I want to be.”
Her throat works, and her eyes are shiny again. “So we have a plan?”
She feels so good in my arms. It’s hard to think. “What about the dinner?”
She stiffens, her muscles tensing, and now I’m tense, too, and I don’t even know why. “It might be too late to add another person. It’s a seated dinner. Besides…” She pauses for a breath. “What about camping? Your dad. Your tradition. There will be other dinners.”
“I can drive all night if I have to.” My arms tighten around her. “When can I meet them? How about tonight? I’ll take you home.”
“Not tonight.” She pulls her hands from around my neck and grips the chains. “I need time to tell them about you. Besides, Ethan just flew in tonight.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
She bites her lip. “Tomorrow is busy, but—” She looks in my eyes, nods. “Let’s do it tomorrow. And Anthony?”
“What?”
“Yes.” She smiles. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”
I’m grinning so wide when I lean it to kiss her that our noses bang and our teeth clack. “Ow,” she says, pulling away, but we’re both laughing. “We’re obviously going to need a lot more practice,” she teases.
“Good thing there’s no more Rule 5.”
She sighs loudly. “I really hated Rule 5.”
I pull her close for a quick hug. “When tomorrow?”
“I’ll text you after I’ve had a chance to set the stage.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“And we won’t say anything about the dinner yet, right?”
I hesitate and then nod. I’m not going to argue when I’ve just gotten what I want.
I pull her close again and try not to wonder why it doesn’t feel that way.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mai
“It feels weird to hold a brain,” Ethan says.
He passes me the gray mass, and even though it’s made of plastic, it does feel weird. “Why do brains always look like they’re covered in snakes?”
It’s late Sunday afternoon, and we’re at the Arizona Science Center for a lecture on asymmetry in brains. Well, Mom and Dad are sitting in on the lecture. Ethan and I are walking around the main floor. We’ve always loved coming here, and it reminds me how much fun we’d have, the two of us. We’d race the wheelchairs and play tug of war on the giant fulcrum. He thought the farting stomach was disgusting, so I did, too. I wonder if I’d been born a Senn and looked like a Senn, would I have tried so hard to be one? Maybe I would have been the one to pull Ethan into the stomach monster. Instead, I’m still letting him lead the way. Still working up my courage to tell him about Anthony. I keep waiting for the right moment, but the lecture must be nearly over and I still haven’t done it.
Anthony: What time?
It’s the last text Anthony sent. The same as the text before that. I didn’t even respond to the newest one.
“I think they look like worms,” Ethan says.
Worms are not a good segue into Anthony.
“I’m anti-worm, too. I’m in favor of legs.”
“Spiders?” he asks, knowing I had nightmares about Shelob on The Lord of the Rings.
“Not too many legs.”
“Lobsters have a lot of legs, and they’re delicious.” He sets the wormy gray mass back into the exhibit. “It’s weird that we’re afraid of snakes and spiders because the amygdala section of our brain tells us to be afraid. But then our frontal lobe tells us it’s not rational to be afraid.”
Speaking of irrational, there’s this guy I like.
I sigh. There hasn’t been one decent moment to bring up Anthony. Over lunch, we had to talk about Ethan’s new apartment, and Ethan’s class schedule, and Ethan’s internship. Then Mom was busy with unpacking and laundry. And this morning.
You could have done it this morning.
My conscience pipes up, unwilling to lie as much as I wish it would. There was a moment in the kitchen, everyone drinking coffee while we went over the calendar for the next few days. If Mom wasn’t a biologist-turned-professor, she would have been an event planner. She likes everything planned to the minute. Ethan asked about the trail project and Grant. It would have been easy to say something then.
By the way, a friend of mine from school is also volunteering.
I didn’t.
We moved on to the logistics for the fundraising dinner, and I could have brought up Anthony then.
I didn’t.
And then Dad jumped in to tell Ethan that I’d asked Grant to join us at the dinner.
“Wait,” Ethan had said. “Are you and Grant a thing? He and Katherine did break up.”
“We’re not a thing,�
�� I said.
“They’re both concentrating on the future right now,” Dad said. Then he winked at me. “But they could be a thing.”
“They did get married,” Mom said. “Ethan, you officiated.”
“I was six!” I sputtered.
The three of them laughed. Then they’d started in about Grant.
“He’s a great guy.”
“Smart.”
“Ambitious.”
“A scientist on a similar path.”
“You two have always had so much in common.”
When I clapped my hands over my ears, Ethan laughed. “Come on, Mai. You’ve always liked the guy.”
Miserable, I could only shrug. I have always liked him. I do like him. The problem is, not like that. I like someone else way more.
But how did I say that? How could I bring up Anthony in front of the Grant Ellison cheer squad?
Grant.
I had to tell him about Anthony. And I had to uninvite him to the dinner. Even if he was a family friend, it wasn’t right.
But first I had to explain to my parents about Anthony.
My boyfriend.
Last night, we’d gone back to the party as us. When people noticed our hands locked together, things had gotten super awkward.
There was Delia. Surprise.
Cooper, Tucker, and Jason. Surprise.
Josie, the only one not surprised, was thrilled. Eventually, so was everyone else. Well, except Delia. When I told Josie about the boyfriend part, she’d hugged me and said Jane Austen would have been proud. High praise, indeed.
But now it feels like none of it actually happened. All my nervousness is back. What if I tell my parents about Anthony and they disapprove? What if they insist I break it off? I’ve never purposely gone against them. I’ve never even lied before. If they find out I’ve lied about Anthony, they’ll be so mad. So disappointed. That’s why it has to happen slowly. Why I have to do this exactly right.
I don’t want to disappoint them. I don’t want them to look at me and not see a Senn. I don’t want them to look at me and wish they’d chosen a different baby. Talk about stupid brain wiring. My frontal lobe knows it’s not rational. But my amygdala, down deep in the center of my brain, knows that I had birth parents who had me and didn’t want me. Who gave me away.
How to Quit Your Crush Page 16