The Opposite of Innocent

by Sonya Sones

  Then she asks how my first day went.

  She asks if Taylor and Rose

  are in any of my classes.

  She asks if we can buy

  some basil on our way home.

  And I answer all her questions.

  But it’s hard to keep

  the quiver out of my voice.

  Because the whole time we’re talking,

  Luke is kissing the nape of my neck.

  As We Circle Around and Around

  Heading back down to the ground level

  of the parking lot, and to reality,

  Luke says he can hardly wait till I turn eighteen.

  “On your eighteenth birthday,

  I’ll put up billboards all over town

  and take out a full-page ad in the newspaper.

  On your eighteenth birthday,

  I’ll hire one of those planes

  with a banner streaming behind it.

  On your eighteenth birthday,

  when it’s finally legal for us to be together,

  I’ll tell the whole world about us.”

  Then, just before we pull out into the street,

  he reaches over, takes my hand, and says,

  “Can you promise to keep us a secret till then?”

  I want to tell him yes, yes I can.

  But I just smile and nod.

  Because I’m way too dazzled to speak.

  A Few Minutes Later

  When we stop off at the market

  to get the basil for Mom,

  Luke buys a bouquet of white lilies

  for her too.

  But when we get back into the car,

  he hands them to me,

  saying,

  “Lilies for my Lily.”

  And my heart

  blooms in my chest.

  But Then

  Just before we get home,

  he says that even though they’re for me,

  we’ll have to pretend they’re for my mom.

  All of a sudden,

  I’ve got a giant lump in my throat.

  I feel ridiculously close to tears.

  “We’ll know, though,” Luke says,

  with a reassuring smile.

  “You and I will know they’re yours.”

  When we walk into the kitchen,

  he whips the bouquet out from behind his back,

  and presents it to Mom with a deep bow.

  “These are for you, Julia,” he says.

  “For being so gracious about

  letting me camp out here for so long.”

  She gives him a playful shove.

  Then she takes the flowers,

  my flowers, and says,

  “Don’t be silly.

  You’ve been such a help with the kids.

  Honestly. We need you here, Luke.”

  And she pulls him in for a hug.

  They Are My Flowers

  But Mom

  gets to choose the vase.

  Mom gets to

  arrange them.

  I want to put them

  on my dresser,

  where I can feast my eyes on them

  while I fall asleep.

  But Mom sets the vase

  on the kitchen table.

  They are

  my flowers.

  Mine.

  It’s the Middle of the Night

  I’ve been lying in bed

  for hours,

  rubbing the stones on my necklace

  as if each one is a tiny genie lamp . . .

  I can’t take it anymore.

  I just can’t.

  I throw back the covers

  and slip out of my room.

  I tiptoe to Luke’s door

  and press my cheek to the cool wood.

  I can feel him

  yearning for me—

  yearning for me right now

  on the other side of this door.

  I suck in a breath

  and take hold

  of the gleaming glass knob.

  But I Don’t Turn It

  I pull

  my hand away,

  slink down the stairs,

  and hurry to the kitchen.

  I reach

  for one of the lilies,

  tear off some petals,

  and sneak back up to my room.

  Then I climb into bed,

  open Rebecca,

  and press the petals

  in its pages.

  Except for one—

  the one that I tuck underneath

  my pillow.

  In Creative Writing

  We’re supposed to be working

  on in-class essays about

  what we did during summer vacation.

  Stunningly original topic, right?

  Mr. Bennett wrote on the board

  that we had to include at least two similes,

  and that we should remember

  to “show” instead of “tell.”

  Then

  he set a timer

  for thirty minutes.

  That was around ten minutes ago.

  I’m glad he didn’t say

  how long our essays had to be.

  Because I’m already finished with mine,

  and it’s pretty short:

  This summer, I felt like a wish that had finally

  been fulfilled. I felt like a dream that had

  finally been remembered. But I can’t tell you

  why, because you told us not to “tell.”

  And I can’t “show” you why either, because

  that would be telling. The other kind of telling.

  And I promised someone I wouldn’t.

  The End (and also The Beginning)

  Photography Class

  Mr. Lewis wanders

  through the room with his camera,

  pausing now and then to snap a picture

  of one of us, as he talks about portraits.

  He says when we photograph

  another human being,

  we learn something about

  what makes them human.

  He says our cameras can see things

  we can’t see with our naked eyes.

  “When a portrait is done well,” he says,

  “it reveals secrets about its subject.”

  Then Mr. L turns and snaps my picture.

  “Ack!” I cry, covering my face with my hands.

  “Don’t worry,” he chuckles. “I’ll never tell.”

  And the whole class cracks up.

  I sneak a peek at Presley.

  He’s laughing along with everyone else.

  But he’s got the kindest look on his face,

  like, I feel you, girl.

  So I smile my thanks, and start laughing too.

  Even though I’m sort of worried . . . I mean,

  what did my portrait reveal? What did Mr. L see?

  Did he see all my secrets? Did he see Luke and me?

  In Madame Melvoin’s Class

  I know I’m supposed

  to be thinking about

  French verbs.

  But all

  I can think about is

  French kissing.

  And about

  Luke’s lips pressing

  against mine.

  All I can think about

  is the fact that ten minutes from now,

  when the bell rings and I rush outside,

  mon amour will be waiting for me.

  I Hop into Luke’s Car

  And I’m just about to beg him

  to take me somewhere, anywhere,

  so we can kiss, when—

  “Surprise!” Alice shouts,

  popping up like a jack-in-the-box

  from the backseat.

  I let out

  a startled shriek

  and she giggles wildly.

  She says, “Wanda’s throat got strepped,

  and the nurse sent her home.


  So Mom asked Luke to pick me up.

  And he’s gonna buy us books at Bella’s!

  Isn’t he the most wonderfulest man in the world?”

  “Yes,” I say. “He is.”

  And Luke and I

  exchange a very quick,

  very frustrated glance.

  But Then I Realize

  That if Bella sees Luke and me together again,

  she might sense that something’s up.

  So I claim I’ve got too much homework.

  He smiles at me and says,

  “No worries, luv. We’ll make it snappy.”

  And his English accent just about undoes me.

  A few minutes later, we’re walking into Bella’s

  and she’s welcoming us with a platter

  of her homemade peanut butter cookies.

  Luke takes a bite and says it’s positively brilliant.

  And Bella’s just about undone, too.

  She blushes deeply and thanks him.

  Then Alice says, “We’re making it snappy, luv!”

  And starts tugging Bella to the children’s section,

  asking her to show her the ballerina books.

  Luke puts his hand on my shoulder,

  and this little thrill shoots through me

  as he guides me toward the “LOVE” section.

  I glance back at Bella and catch her watching us.

  For a split second, I see this look in her eyes—

  this look like she knows.

  But then she blinks, and it disappears.

  On Thursday After School

  When I hop

  into Luke’s car,

  Alice shouts “Surprise!” again,

  and starts giggling her head off.

  I whirl around and shoot her a look

  that’s less than friendly.

  I love Alice,

  but it wasn’t even funny the first time.

  Apparently,

  Wanda is still home sick.

  Someone had better get that kid

  some stronger antibiotics.

  Right now.

  Thursday Night

  I’m lying

  on my bed,

  under the twinkling Milky Way

  of my glow-in-the-dark stars,

  having my nightly tap fest

  with Luke.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  And I’m thinking

  how ridiculously amazing it is

  that he actually

  waited for me.

  That he waited for me

  to grow up.

  Just like

  he promised me he would.

  Friday After School

  Alice pops up

  out of the backseat

  again.

  Like an instant replay

  of the afternoon before.

  Only worse.

  Because now

  it’s been three whole days

  since Luke and I have kissed.

  Or held hands.

  Or had a single second

  alone together.

  My

  whole body aches

  with wanting.

  I wonder—

  can a person

  actually die of desire?

  I Didn’t Realize Luke Overheard Me Yesterday

  When I was telling Mom

  how amazing Mr. Lewis is.

  And how even though he said it’s okay

  to use my old point-and-shoot for assignments,

  I can’t help wishing I had a better camera.

  I didn’t realize that Luke heard Mom apologizing,

  telling me we can’t afford to buy one right now.

  And that he heard me trying to make her feel better,

  telling her that actually, I kind of like

  the challenge of using the one I have.

  I didn’t realize

  Luke heard any of that.

  But he must have—because just now,

  when Mom and I were doing the dishes,

  he walked in and gave me a fancy new Nikon.

  And even though Mom was right there,

  I flung my arms around him.

  But she just smiled fondly at me,

  like she thinks my “crush” on Luke

  is the cutest thing ever.

  It’s So Strange

  To be at this party

  with Taylor and Rose tonight,

  so strange to be

  laughing and joking

  and snapping all these pictures of everyone

  with my brand-new camera,

  so strange to be playing

  this game of truth or dare,

  and to have to keep on

  taking the dares

  because I can’t risk

  having to tell anyone the truth.

  Which is that I don’t

  actually want to be here.

  And that I’d give anything

  to be out on a date right now instead—

  out on a date

  with the boyfriend

  that no one even knows I have.

  And Then, to Make Matters Worse—

  Presley shows up.

  And Rose brings him right over

  to introduce us.

  He smiles at me, swipes his bangs out of his eyes,

  and says, “Oh, we’ve already met. We’re in

  photography together. Isn’t Mr. L cool?”

  I answer that yes, Mr. L is totally cool.

  And Presley says that he likes what he told us

  about how our cameras can see things we can’t see.

  And while we’re talking, I steal a glance at Rose.

  She’s smirking at me with one eyebrow raised,

  silently mouthing, “I can see things too.”

  Just then, Taylor walks up,

  and Rose asks him and Presley

  if they’d mind scoring us some nachos.

  As soon as they head off, she turns to face me.

  She crosses her arms over her chest,

  but doesn’t say a word.

  “Okay. Okay,” I say. “I didn’t tell you we’d met

  because this—I knew you’d make a big deal out of it.

  Presley’s great. But we’re just friends.”

  “Sure you are,” she says with an I-told-you-so grin.

  On Saturday Morning

  When I come downstairs for breakfast,

  Mom’s helping Alice into her jacket.

  “I’ve got a sore throat, too, now,”

  Alice croaks cheerfully. “Just like Wanda!”

  Mom says she’s taking her

  to Dr. Gold to see if it’s strep.

  She says, “Dad’s out buying doughnuts.

  He’ll be back in five minutes.”

  My heart begins pounding.

  As soon as the front door

  swings shut behind them,

  I dash upstairs to my room.

  I go straight to the window

  and peek through the curtain,

  trying to calm the flock of butterflies

  that’s just flitted into my stomach.

  I watch as Mom bundles Alice into the car.

  Then, the second they drive away,

  I race to my door, yank it open—

  and there’s Luke,

  standing right in front of me

  with this huge grin on his face.

  He says he’s sorry Alice isn’t feeling well.

  But not that sorry.

  He Gathers Me into His Arms

  And kisses me with such force

  that our teeth crash together.

  He’s breathing hard,

  pressing his hips against mine.

  And when I feel the effect

  I’m having on him,

  it’s like I’ve morphed

  into Super Lily or something—

  like there’s this strange new power

  coursing
through my veins . . .

  Then We Hear a Car

  Dad!

  Luke wrenches his lips away,

  and grips me by my upper arms,

  his dark eyes drilling into mine.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  he whispers urgently.

  “I’m . . . I’m sleeping over at Rose’s,” I say.

  He leans in

  for one more kiss—

  a kiss so passionate it almost hurts.

  Then he pulls back and murmurs,

  “I know a beautiful spot . . . A spot

  where we could kiss like this all night.”

  And somehow, by the time

  Dad walks through the front door,

  Luke and I have come up with a plan.

  He gives me one more fierce kiss,

  then heads downstairs,

  as calm as anything,

  while I waft into my room,

  and ease the door shut behind me,

  my whole body vibrating.

  Geometry’s Usually So Easy for Me

  But when you’ve just arranged

  a secret rendezvous,

  it’s impossible to focus

  on your homework,

  to concentrate on acute angles

  instead of on your soul mate’s cute ones,

  to think about anything except

  how incredibly much you love him,

  and about the fact

  that if all goes as planned tonight,

  the two of you will finally be able

  to be alone for hours,

  and your only chaperone

  will be the man in the moon . . .

  I let my fingers glide

  over the smooth green stones

  of the necklace I never take off,

  and drift into a delicious daydream . . .

  Then—Wham!

  My bedroom door flies open.

  Alice zooms in and starts

  bouncing up and down on my bed.

  “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” I growl.

  Alice stops bouncing.

  Her lower lip trembles.

  She looks so flushed and feverish.

  “I’m sorry, Lilybelle,” she rasps.

  “But knocking takes too long.

  And I needed to tell you the big news.”

  She flops down next to me, swiping at a tear.

  Now I feel like a total jerk.

  “Aw, that’s okay,” I say. “You’ll understand