by Amity Hope
She smiled. “Sounds to me like your mind is already made up.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe it is.”
Our food arrived and we ate in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the cheese-covered concoction placed between us.
Finally Kylie said, “I’m glad you ordered these. Nachos are my favorite guilty pleasure. How about you? What’s your favorite snack?”
I thought she was probably trying to steer the conversation onto a lighter topic.
“You would have to ask that, wouldn’t you?” I shook my head. “It’s Cheetos and guacamole.”
She laughed but quickly cut it short. “Are you serious?”
“I am.”
She laughed again. I loved the sound. I didn’t even care that she was laughing at me.
“You should try it sometime. Crunchy cheese sticks swirled in…well, guacamole. What’s not to love?”
“I will,” she assured me. “Because now I have to try it to see if you’re crazy. What’s your favorite dessert?”
“Anything you make,” I said without hesitation.
She smiled so big her eyes crinkled in the corners. “You don’t have to say that.”
“Sure I do,” I argued. “I’d be lying otherwise. What about you? What’s your favorite dessert?”
She sighed dramatically. “Cheesecake. Any and all cheesecake. That’s why I never make it. I can’t stop eating it.”
I made a mental note of that.
“I have another question for you,” she said. “Where are you going to school this fall?”
“I was accepted at the university in Sapphire Bay.” It was the biggest city to the south of us.
“Me, too!” she said. “I mean, I’m going to culinary school, but I’ll be in Sapphire Bay, too.”
I nodded. “I remember you mentioning you got in there.”
She looked like she wanted to say more. I hoped she didn’t ask if I chose to go there because of her. In truth, it played a tiny part, but it hadn’t been the deciding factor. My hobby, the one Mom hated so much, gave me reason to want to stay close to home. I wanted to be able to work in my shop on the weekends.
“They have a good business program,” I said by way of explanation, even though she hadn’t asked.
“I’ve heard that,” she said.
She fidgeted with a chip before tossing me a verbal curveball. “So I’m the girl you’ve liked for a while?”
I laughed, more out of nervousness than humor. “Oh, yeah.”
Her eyes glittered with curiosity. “How long?”
I shook my head. “I don’t even know how to answer that.”
I leaned back in the booth and for just a second, I debated downplaying everything. Then I decided Luke was right. Maybe it was time I put myself out there. “It’s probably going to sound crazy, but my first clear memory of you is fifth grade.” I paused, trying to gauge her reaction.
“It does sound crazy.” She sounded amused. “You remember remembering me?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Actually, it all goes back to Bethany and Meredith. Those girls have never been very nice.”
“I can’t disagree,” she said, fidgeting with her straw.
“I remember they used to pick on you relentlessly.”
She groaned, looking a little bit horrified. “That’s why you remember me? Because of how badly I used to be picked on? I’m not real crazy about those memories.”
Having been picked on plenty myself, I could relate.
“Here’s the thing,” I said. “You always handled it so well. That’s the part I remember. There was one day, I think it was the day you first caught my attention. It was recess. You were playing hopscotch. Bethany ran up to you and started yelling—”
“Fatty, fatty, four-eyed freckle face.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, as if it was easier if she was the one who said them. “That had to be it. That’s what they always called me back then.”
“I was just going to say they started yelling mean things.” Now that she’d mentioned it, yeah, that’s probably what they’d said.
She scrunched up her face. “I was a mess in elementary school.”
“Nah,” I said. “You were cute.”
She shook her head, but a tiny smile appeared at the compliment. “I didn’t start wearing contacts until middle school. That’s also when I lost my baby fat. Sort of. They used that nickname for years. Apparently, they couldn’t come up with anything more original.”
“Yeah.” I cringed. “I don’t know if Meredith dared her to say it that day, or if she was simply being a little creep on her own. What I do know is that when she turned to run away she tripped. She scraped her hands and knees really bad on the concrete and started bawling. You didn’t even hesitate. You knelt beside her; tried to make her feel better. Then you helped her to her feet and walked her to the nurse.”
Kylie nodded at the memory. “She was bleeding all over.”
“I know. Everyone standing around saw what happened. All these kids she hadn’t just been making fun of, including Meredith, but you were the only one who stepped forward.” My own memory of that day was hazy, but that part was crystal clear. “I remember thinking you must be the nicest girl in the world.” I paused a moment before saying, “I don’t know if you remember but I was scrawny, the shortest kid in the class. Skin and bones. Trevor, Colton, my brothers—they picked on me all the time. And I tolerated them. But Bethany wasn’t even your friend and you went out of your way to be nice to her. I’m not proud to admit I remember thinking I would’ve left her there.”
Kylie laughed. “You might’ve helped her.”
“No,” I said, “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have.”
I half expected to receive a dirty look. I was relieved she didn’t seem bothered by my less than stellar sense of chivalry.
“Freshman year we had English together. That kind of put you on my radar again. Any time the teacher asked someone a question and they didn’t seem to have the answer, you jumped in with a response, taking the attention off them. Over the years I’ve noticed that’s what you do. You help people if you can.”
“I never thought of it like that.” She smiled and her dimples popped. “It’s really sweet that you see me that way.”
“Last year we worked on that Civics project together,” I continued, encouraged by her smile. “We had to write a group report on what would make the perfect utopian society. Almost everyone else centered their ideas on how to split up the wealth, like cars, money, jewelry, houses, whatever. You focused your ideas on how people should treat each other better. The mean girls in our school can be so mean. I guess the fact that you’re completely the opposite has always stood out to me. I hope I don’t sound like a stalker, but I’ve definitely liked you for a while.”
I mean, it wasn’t like I was in love with her back in the spring of fifth grade. It was more like she was the girl I would’ve given the fanciest, glitteriest valentine to, if the holiday hadn’t already passed by.
I leaned back in my seat. I hadn’t meant to dump out my guts like that, but once I’d started, the words just kept coming. I wondered if I should try to backtrack. At the same time, it was kind of a relief to lay it all out there.
She gave me a pointed look. “And you’ve never done anything about it.”
“Nope.” What could I say? She had never shown any interest in me, and I had a healthy fear of rejection. “I have to admit, I was really surprised when you kissed me last night.”
A rosy blush crept up her neck. “I surprised myself, too.”
The hesitation in her tone jabbed at me. My stomach twisted, and I asked, “Do you regret it?” It hadn’t occurred to me, until that very moment, that she might.
“I didn’t say that.” She smiled again, and my fear began to fade. “But one minute, I thought we were just friends. The next minute, Meg and Julia are telling me we’d make a great couple. Then the next thing I know, you were standing there looking so kissable.”
“Kissable?” Was that a good thing? That had to be a good thing.
“Kissable,” she agreed. “But I feel like everything changed so fast.”
Fast? Not on my end, yet I got what she was saying. She was sitting here, so she was obviously willing to spend time with me. But I needed to give her some time to get used to the idea. Maybe give her some time to let her feelings catch up with mine.
“It’s not like I’m expecting us to jump into a relationship,” I said, though it’s what I ultimately wanted. “We can just keep hanging out.”
She arched an eyebrow, her dimples still in place. “Keep filling out the list?”
“Exactly,” I said, feeling relieved that I hadn’t scared her off.
Lucky for me, there was a whole lot of list left.
Chapter Nine
Kylie
“Where are you off to?” Dad asked.
“I’m meeting Emily at the library,” I said.
Leo’s parents were working late tonight, and he’d invited me over.
Mom was in her sewing room, working on a new quilt. I’d already offered up the same fib to her.
“Emily?” Dad’s brow scrunched. “The girl you work with? I didn’t know the two of you were friends.”
“We are,” I assured him. That, at least, was true. I considered her a friend, even if we didn’t hang out together. “I’m helping her with a Civics project. I had the class last year. She’s struggling to come up with some ideas for her utopian society, and I’m going to brainstorm with her.”
He had no way of knowing Emily was an excellent student with a stellar GPA, and I was not going to enlighten him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was next year’s valedictorian.
Mom hadn’t flinched when I said I was meeting up with her. Emily’s parents extended my employee discount to Mom. She did most of her shopping at The Green Goddess so she saw a lot of Emily. Luckily Emily was the epitome of professional politeness. Mom adored her.
Dad nodded. “Okay. Be home by nine. It’s a school night.”
“I will be.”
I twisted around and crashed into Allie.
“Have fun.” She flashed me a knowing smile, then scampered after me when I went outside. “Have fun at Leo’s,” she said with a smirk. “I knew there was more going on with you two than you were admitting.”
“There was nothing going on.” I paused. “Not at first. And I’m not sure what’s going on with us right now.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. Have fun tonight. I’ll keep an eye on Mom and Dad for you, just keep your phone on. I’ll give you a head’s up if they get suspicious.”
“Thanks for covering for me.”
She huffed. “Do you really think I’d rat you out?”
I lifted my eyebrows and gave her a pointed look. “You used to be the world’s biggest tattletale. You told on me for everything.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
I smiled as I ruffled her hair, making her grumble in disdain. “I guess you’re not.”
…
“Are you sure this isn’t a date?” Francesca asked.
“Positive.” I tucked my keys into my purse but didn’t hop out of my car. I shifted my phone to my other ear as I eyed up Leo’s house. “Do we have to talk about this? Can’t we talk about you and Nate?”
“We already talked about Nate and me.” Pressing on with the conversation, she said, “Do you want it to be a date?”
“You’re as bad as Meg and Julia,” I scolded.
“No, I’m not. I know they both think you should go for it. I want to know how you feel,” she said.
I hesitated a moment before saying, “That’s the problem. I don’t know how I feel.”
“Because of James?” she guessed.
“Maybe.” I sighed. “Yeah, that’s part of it.”
Yesterday, James and Colton had stopped by our table. They’d each taken a handful of my homemade caramels. James had complimented me repeatedly. He’d acted like they were the best thing he’d ever tasted. A week ago, that would’ve made my heart explode with happiness.
But I’d kept glancing at Leo. He’d seemed overly interested in his spaghetti. Knowing that James’s presence bothered Leo, even if he was trying to pretend it didn’t, made me feel terrible.
When James had walked away, I’d been relieved that he was leaving instead of excited that he’d stopped by.
But the following hour in chemistry—when he’d walked by and tapped me on the head with one of my own pens—he’d made my heart all fluttery again.
“I’m so confused,” I groaned a bit theatrically, trying to convey my frustration.
“I think you like them both,” Francesca said.
Maybe I did.
“Isn’t James with Meredith?”
“I think so. But I don’t know how serious they are,” I admitted. But my thoughts immediately bounced back in the other direction, and I said, “Leo is such a sweetheart.”
“But…”
“But it could get so complicated. I like having him as a friend. What if we do go out, and it’s a disaster and it ruins our friendship?” I sucked in a breath and said, “Not to mention, I am not looking forward to dealing with my parents.”
“Kylie, don’t over think this. Just go spend time with Leo and see where it goes.”
“I’m at his house now,” I said. “So I should probably do that.”
We disconnected, and I hopped out of my car and made my way up the sidewalk, then pushed the doorbell and waited. And waited. I restlessly tapped my hands against my thighs. After a few moments, I jabbed the button again. When he still didn’t answer, I pressed my face close to the glass sidelight and tried to peer inside. Nothing.
I wondered what I should do. His truck was in the driveway so he had to be here. Didn’t he?
Maybe he was listening to music and hadn’t heard the bell.
Would it be weird if I let myself in? Would that be any weirder than awkwardly standing here all night?
It would be if he was in the shower.
I should definitely wait.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, ready to send a text, when movement from behind me caught my attention.
I twisted around, surprised to see him walking toward me. He had to have come from the garage that was separate from the house.
“Sorry,” he said as he hurried up to me. “I lost track of time.”
“That’s fine.” My lips twitched as I studied his face. Indents circled his eyes, as if he’d been wearing glasses that were several sizes too small. I glanced at the building again, certain it had to be the mysterious workshop Adam had mentioned. Curiosity ate at me. “What were you so busy with?”
He had invited me over because he told me there was something he wanted to show me. I assumed it had to do with his super-secret hobby, but I hadn’t asked, figuring it was best to let him show me on his own time frame.
“Come on.” He grabbed my hand and seemed to relax when I squeezed his fingers.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious to see what Leo did with his free time. Judging by his irritation with Adam the day he’d mentioned it, and noting his hesitation just now, it was easy to determine he wasn’t real comfortable sharing.
It made my heart fluttery to know he was willing to share with me.
We stopped in front of the door leading into the side of the garage. “Keep in mind, this is just a hobby.” His tension hinted that whatever he was about to show me was more than a hobby. I knew, without being told, that my reaction would matter to him. “It’s something I mess around with.”
“Okay.” I was so excited to see I was tempted to open the door myself and barge in. My cheeks ached from smiling. I already knew that whatever it was, I was going to love it. And if I didn’t? I was going to fib. There was no way I’d ever hurt this boy’s feelings. Not if I could help it.
We stepped inside, and in a few heartbeats, I knew lying wouldn’t be ne
cessary. My mouth dropped open as my gaze darted around the cluttered space.
“Wow.” It was all I could think of to say.
“Is that a good wow, or a bad wow?” he asked with a grimace. “My mom hates it in here. She says things like ‘Wow, what a waste of space. Wow, what a mess. Wow, you really have gotten carried away, haven’t you?’”
I blinked at him in surprise. It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, but when they did, I was irritated on his behalf. “She doesn’t approve?”
“No.”
“Leo, these are amazing.”
His artwork lined the floor, hung from the walls, dangled from the ceiling. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It was all made from—and I mean this in the nicest way possible—junk.
I studied the bins full of random parts and pieces. I couldn’t fathom—couldn’t even begin to visualize—a way to put them together. Let alone put them together in a way that turned them from trash into something extraordinary.
“These are all incredible.”
“Yeah?” He looked unsure.
“Honestly, I’m a bit blown away.” I walked around, inspecting each individual piece. There was a pair of owls. He’d used rusted-out shovels for faces, metal scraps for the nose, and round doodads and whatchamathingys for the eyes. An adorable wiener dog creation made me laugh. He’d used some sort of coil or spring for the long body. A set of snails complemented each other nicely, though one had a body made from a hubcap, the other a saw blade. There were cats and robots and birds…the creations went on and on.
Dangling from the ceiling were several wind chimes. Some were fashioned out of old colanders and silverware. Another from an antiquated coffee can and a set of various sized wrenches. An endless number of old keys swirled down from a metal funnel.
“How do you come up with your ideas?” I motioned toward the bins full of scrap metal and discarded objects just waiting to be assembled. “I look at those and see…” I didn’t want to be insulting.
“Garbage?” His smile was wry.
I wrinkled my nose apologetically. “Yeah. But you obviously see much more.”
His gaze darted around, as if he was trying to see the room through my eyes.
