“
Wow. I can
’
t believe you
’
re actually gonna do it.
”
“
I love him,
”
she says.
“
And he loves me.
”
“
I know. I
’
m happy for you.
”
She
’
s younger than me and I haven
’
t even been out on a date yet!
“
You
’
re sure you
’
re ready?
”
“
Definitely,
”
she says quickly.
Finn
’
s footsteps interrupt our conversation. He sits on the other side of Camille and puts his arm around her.
“
He says he needs someone to read to him, Liv,
”
he tells me.
“
Have fun with that.
”
“
Thanks, Finn,
”
I murmur sarcastically as I return to my brother
’
s room.
“
I hope you like
Brave New World
,
”
I say to Trey, plopping down on his clean bed. He hands me his favorite children
’
s book instead. After one read-through, he
’
s fast asleep.
When I return to the living room, Camille and Finn are lying down on the couch, kissing.
“
I guess you can continue to do that, but I
’
m going to be in here reading,
”
I tell them, only moderately annoyed. They both sit up quickly.
“
You
’
re so lame, Livvy,
”
Finn says, joking with me.
“
Shut up.
”
I throw my book at him, hitting him in the chest.
“
I love this book,
”
he says, opening it up to a page and beginning to read out loud.
“
Cliff did a better job of writing the story than this Huxley dude.
”
“
Cliff?
”
I ask.
“
The notes guy,
”
he explains.
It figures he
’
s only read the Cliff
’
s Notes on the classic book.
“
At least start where I left off,
”
I tell him.
“
Where the bookmark is.
”
Not much reading gets done while they are at my house, and after my parents get home, my friends leave. I go downstairs to try to finish the chapter I had been reading, but instead can
’
t help but think about the fact that my friends are going to have sex tomorrow.
And that thought leaves me to wonder how long I
’
ll have to wait for my first time.
Over the next few weeks, Jon meets me at the Art Room and we continue our brief ritual of slowly walking home together. I wish I lived farther away from the school;
t
wo blocks isn
’
t enough, but the idea of us going out on a real date–alone–makes me excited and nervous at the same time.
The Thursday before our planned dinner, I have to wait for him to show up.
“
Sorry I
’
m late,
”
he says with a stressed smile. His backpack is slung over his shoulder and he
’
s got bags under his eyes.
“
Are you okay?
”
“
Yeah. Just worried about the tests on Saturday.
”
“
What tests?
”
“
The SATs?
”
It
’
s obvious he expects me to know this already, but I hadn
’
t realized they were coming up so soon.
“
That
’
s Saturday?
”
“
Yeah,
”
he says.
“
I don
’
t think I
’
m ready.
”
“
Aren
’
t you coming to my house on Saturday?
”
“
Yeah, that evening, right? Your dad said at seven. Right?
”
“
But you have to take the tests that day?
”
“
Yeah. Oh, Liv, I
’
ll be fine. I
’
ll be much better once they
’
re behind me. Don
’
t worry, it
’
s fine.
”
He takes my hand, but does something different this week. He weaves his fingers between mine and rubs my palm with his thumb. My stomach flutters in delight, which just makes me even more conflicted.
“
Just seeing you here makes all that stress go away.
”
I pull on his arm and stop him from walking any further, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk. I sigh aloud, but say words I don
’
t really mean anyway.
“
If you want to wait a week, it
’
s okay with me. I understand.
”
I don
’
t look him in the eyes, not wanting him to accept my offer.
“
Hell, no,
”
he says.
“
That
’
s my light at the end of the tunnel, Liv. I get these tests out of the way, and I get to spend an entire evening with you.
”
“
And my parents.
”
“
Hopefully not for the whole evening. You don
’
t think they
’
ll let us have any time to ourselves? Maybe we could go on a
four
block walk,
”
he says, joking with me.
“
I don
’
t know. You never know with my dad.
”
“
Livvy, I
’
m gonna make your dad like me. I promise you. That
’
s my goal right now–to convince your dad I
’
m good enough to go out with you, and to convince him to trust you with me... even alone.
”
I try to hide my incredibly giddy smile by biting my thumbnail, but I don
’
t think it
’
s working. He takes a few steps toward me, and, instinctively, I walk backwards slowly until my back is against the brick wall of the studio building. I can
’
t bring myself to look away from him. He removes my hand from my mouth, holding it against his chest while he leans in closer.
“
This probably isn
’
t a good start,
”
he says quietly, his eyes glancing down to my lips and back to my mesmerized stare again.
“
What do you mean?
”
“
I want to kiss you, Livvy. I don
’
t think your dad would like that,
”
he whispers, moving closer.
“
But I would,
”
I breathe softly, my voice pleading.
He lets go of both of my hands and inhales deeply, considering it but leaning back slightly with the intake of air. My eyes falter in rejection, but not a second later, his index fingers lift my chin up, his thumbs stroke my jawline, and his lips are warm and soft against mine. I can hear my heart beating loudly in my ears. Feeling light-headed, I close my eyes and I have to clutch his t-shirt to maintain my posture, even though there
’
s an entire building holding the weight of my body. He pulls back sooner than I want him to. My fingers brush against his bare stomach beneath the shirt that I have raveled in my fists. He puts his hands on top of mine, gently releasing the fingers from their grasp.
“
You
’
re cold,
”
he says as he envelops my hands in his and rubs them together slowly in an attempt to warm them.
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
I tell him quickly.
“
Don
’
t apologize.
”
He shakes his head at me as he guides my still-cold hands to his waist, beneath the shirt. He flinches a little at the contact of my full palms against his skin.
“
You
’
re hot,
”
I tell him as I press my hands against him, noticing the heat radiating off of his body.
“
I was just thinking the same thing about you,
”
he tells me, and in the moment, it takes me a second to realize what I
’
d just said to him.
“
Ha,
”
I respond, embarrassed.
“
So clever. But seriously, you feel really hot. Are you feeling okay?
”
“
Livvy, I
’
m flattered, but you don
’
t have to keep telling me–
”
“
Stop!
”
I
’
m laughing as I cut him off, pushing him away playfully, feeling firm muscles against my thumbs. He grabs my forearms to stop his backward motion, pulling me into him again. He wraps his arms around me as my fingers lightly scrape his back, looking for a place to settle. Embracing him fully feels too intimate, but letting my arms loosely hang leaves my fingertips touching the pockets of his jeans.
He clears his throat as a sweet, soft smile settles on his lips.
“
I feel great, Livvy,
”
he says quietly. He holds on tighter with his left arm as he releases his right hand to move a long strand of hair from my eyes. He kisses me again. This one feels even closer, warmer, slower, fueled by more need, or hunger. I feel it too. He
’
s fully in control, and although he backs off momentarily, he angles his head to the left and continues. I can
’
t stop the grin from spreading across my face as my hands settle into his pockets. The tips of my fingers curiously and cautiously press against him, and a sudden hiss of air through his teeth takes him away from me for good. He lets go of me and pulls my hands out of his pockets slowly. He watches my reaction. The smile disappears instantly and my breathing falters; my stomach falls.
When I try to pull away from him, embarrassed, he holds on to my hands. He shakes his head at me with a tender expression, and I can tell he doesn
’
t mean to hurt my feelings.
“
That
feels great, Livvy, but let
’
s take things slow, okay? If I let you keep doing that, I
’
m not sure I
’
ll be able to contain myself.
”
The smile returns, and it makes me feel good to know that he liked what I did.
“
Sorry.
”
“
Don
’
t apologize.
”
He lets go of one hand and takes the other one, holding it tightly as he starts walking toward my house.
“
I can
’
t wait until our date.
”
“
I can
’
t wait until Saturday.
”
He smiles and nods.
“
Do you really think I
’
m hot?
”
I ask him, having never thought of myself like that. I
’
d been called pretty, cute, very put-together (and for that, I had my aunt Anna to thank), but never
hot
. That implied something more. Like I was desirable or something.
“
I do. I think you
’
re more than that, Liv, but yeah. You
’
re hot.
”
It feels like my body is melting. We release each other
’
s hands at the same time.