The study hall monitor walked by and gave us a dirty look. Too bad. It was the last day we’d ever spend at this school. What could they do to us now?
Amber smiled at me like the old Amber. “I’m sorry. You should be able to tell me anything, and you couldn’t. That was my fault.” She scooted her chair closer. “So, tell me everything. Are you really going to St. Louis with Went?”
I nodded, giving her a look I figured was a cross between excitement and panic.
“What’s Big D say about all this?”
“Mom’s been pretty great. I mean, she doesn’t know it will just be Went and me.”
“Or that you’re planning to do it.”
“Right. But she knows we’ll be staying the night at Went’s mother’s.”
Amber frowned. “And Went’s mom is cool with this? So, what? Like, she’ll show you to the spare bedroom and go back to hers?”
“Eeew! No! She’s not going to be there.”
“Ah.” Amber nodded. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Bailey? I thought you wanted to wait until you were married.”
“I thought so, too . . . until Went.”
“Are you sure you’re not just doing it for him, though? ”
“What do you mean?” I guess I raised my voice, because the monitor glared over at us.
“Don’t get mad,” Amber whispered. “You’d be asking me the same question if I were the one about to round third and head for home.”
We laughed, and then Amber got serious again. “You know that when people say everybody’s doing it, it’s not true, right? You’re not weird or immature or anything else if you don’t have sex. Nothing says you have to go through with this.”
“I want to do this, Amber.” And I did. Maybe not for all the reasons I’d always thought I’d want to have sex for the first time. I’d pictured that moment often enough. I’d be wearing a beautiful white wedding dress and carrying a bouquet while my new husband carried me over the threshold, both of us eager and crazy in love.
“Well, I’m here for you,” Amber said finally. “You know that, right?”
I hugged her and felt those tears trying to leak out again. “Hey,” I said, shoving us apart and trying to joke us both out of it. “I’m not going away forever, you know. I’ll be back Sunday.”
But the thought that raced through my head, and probably through Amber’s, too, was—what would I be like when I came back on Sunday? What would Bailey Daley be like after crossing this line?
“Meet me in St. Louie, Louie!” Went and I belted out together as we left the city limits of Millet and turned onto the Interstate. Neither of us knew the real words to the song, so we sang whatever lyrics we felt like. We rolled down the windows so everybody in the state would know how happy we were.
Adam sat on my lap and stuck his head out the window. Went’s dad had made us take the dog to his ex-wife’s for the weekend. He said she needed a real taste of what it was like to raise a family. I didn’t mind at all. “Doesn’t your dad like Adam? ” I asked when we’d run out of St. Louis songs.
“Dad hates Adam. The dog may be housebroken at your house, but not ours.”
“You’re kidding. Adam hasn’t blown it at home for ages.” I got eye to eye with the little guy. “Adam, you’d better behave at Went’s, you hear?”
“You got that right. Dad’s threatening to dump Adam at the animal shelter.”
“He can’t be serious!” I hugged Adam closer.
“He’s serious. You don’t know my dad.”
“Don’t you worry, Adam,” I told him. “I won’t let it happen.”
Went put his arm around my shoulder. “Come here, you.”
I undid my seat belt and slid to the middle, where somebody had conveniently installed a middle seat belt. From there, it was easy to lean my head on Went’s shoulder. The day was perfect, sunny but not too hot, blue sky with artful wisps of white floating through. Went kissed the top of my head. “I love you, Bailey Daley.” It was the first time he’d said it. I’d known it was true. I knew how he felt. But he’d never said the words.
My throat closed. Those tears sprouted in my eyes again. But this time, there wasn’t a bit of sadness in them. Only sheer, perfect joy. “I love you, too, Went Smith.”
We pulled into Went’s mother’s apartment complex around noon. The grounds reminded me of a Club Med vacation commercial—kidney-shaped swimming pools, couples hanging out poolside, guys shooting hoops. And the whole thing was walking distance from Six Flags. You could see the top of the roller coasters from the parking lot.
“This is nice,” I observed. I’d pictured a run-down, semi-scary apartment in downtown St. Louis or a dingy building with crackheads passed out in the stairwells. I guess I was as bad and judgmental as I’d accused Mom of being.
“Wait till you see the apartment.” Went snapped on Adam’s leash, then led me by the hand up a flight of stairs—totally free of crackheads—to a big wooden door with “203” on it. The name above the doorbell was Waslynski, not Smith.
“Are you sure you’ve got the right apartment?” I tapped the gold nameplate.
“Mom went back to her maiden name.” He glanced both ways and then reached behind a bush and came up with a key. “Remind me to put it back when we leave.”
He unlocked the door and returned the key. Then he turned to me with his best Went-smile, the one that took up his whole face and moved down his gorgeous tanned neck. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
My heart sped up as I followed him into the apartment. Went and I hadn’t gotten this far in our talks about the weekend. Most of our planning had been taken up with the details of getting us there. The logistics and the timing of when we were going to do what—that, we hadn’t discussed.
“Isn’t it great?” He swooped his arm like a showman unveiling his prized sculpture. “She’s a designer. I mean, professionally. She designs and decorates people’s houses. That’s how she can afford this place. Do you like it?”
The room we were standing in was all white except for dabs of red—a red vase with a single rose on a glass coffee table, a red satin pillow on a stuffed chair, also white. On the walls hung canvases of modern art, white with broad red stripes or funky circles.
“Wow!” I picked up Adam because he hadn’t done his business on the walk in, and I didn’t want him doing it now. I didn’t think I could have lived in such modern surroundings. I would have been afraid to touch anything. But I could still appreciate the beauty of the room. “It’s gorgeous, Went.”
One of the paintings was long and narrow, occupying a good third of the whole wall. I stepped up for a better look and read the signature: Waslynski. I turned to Went. “Nuh-uh. Did your mother paint this?”
Went nodded. “She’s got two paintings in a gallery right across from the Arch. “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”
I held Adam as Went led me from the kitchen and breakfast nook to his mom’s bedroom, her office, and an entertainment room with a giant television and a pool table.
“This place is too big to be an apartment,” I observed.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, kid.” Went slipped his arm around me. “I saved the best for last.”
At the end of the white-carpeted hallway was the spare bedroom. Went touched the door, and it opened to a room that had to be twice the size of my bedroom at home. Unlike every other room in the house, this one had color. The blue bedspread matched the curtains, and oranges, blues, and greens blended throughout, with live plants giving everything an outdoor feel. It was as if the color from the rest of the house had drained into this one room. “I love it,” I managed to say.
Went took Adam from my arms and set him on the carpet. Then he leaned down and kissed me. The kiss started out soft as butterflies, then grew harder and more intense. I kissed back just as hard, losing myself in him.
I felt his arms around me, moving up and down, making my whole body tense, then mush, then tingly, then light. With one movem
ent, he swept me up into his arms. We didn’t stop kissing while he carried me into the bedroom and laid me on the bed. I closed my eyes and felt him on top of me, surrounding me, kissing me. His hand slid under my shirt.
“Arf!” Adam barked and barked. Then he pounced onto the bed.
As if I’d been wakened from a trance, my eyelids flew open. Sunlight streamed in through the open curtains. I bolted upright, forcing Went off. His shirt was unbuttoned. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might have a heart attack. I fought for words. When I could catch my breath enough to speak, I said, “Went, let’s go to Six Flags.”
“Now?” He stared at me in disbelief.
I nodded. “Could we, please? ”
He took a deep breath and let it out. Then he sat back on his heels and started buttoning his shirt. “Now.”
“I just . . . well, I thought it would be dark. And I have this little nightie thing in my bag that I spent my life’s savings on. Plus, I don’t want Adam to watch us.”
Went burst into laughter that drained all the tension out of the room. He finished buttoning his shirt, then picked up the little dog. “Thanks a lot, Adam. You and I are going to have a man-to-man talk about this later.” He set Adam down and helped me up.
“Is it okay?” I asked, afraid that I might have wrecked everything.
“It’s okay.” He hugged me to him, wrapping me in his arms so I felt safe . . . and loved, like I could do it. I could give myself to Went Smith.
14
“You’re sure you’re not mad?” I asked Went for the tenth time as we dodged traffic to get to Six Flags. We had to leave Adam in the apartment and hope for the best.
“Bailey, I keep telling you. It’s better this way. I want everything to be perfect. So, wait until dark, expensive nightie, and no dog.”
Went had said all the right things. He understood, and it only made me more excited about our night. This was a guy I could be happy with for the rest of my life.
Once in the park, it felt like we were inside a snow globe, with the rest of the world shut out and unable to do anything but watch us. Paths were lined with souvenir shops and food stands. Carnival music played. We passed a mom and dad with two kids, all of them stuffing themselves with cotton candy. I imagined Went and me years down the line, walking this same path with our own kids. I slid my arm around Went’s waist.
“Where to, Captain Bailey?” he asked.
“To the merry-go-round!” I knew the way blindfolded. The Grand Ole Carousel had been my first ride every time I’d come to Six Flags.
When we got there, I pointed out the big black horse. “That’s my horse.”
“He is, huh?” Went asked as my trusty steed spun out of sight, ridden by some elementary school impostor. “Don’t suppose that horse’s name is Bailey?”
We laughed and scooted in as soon as they opened the gate for the next round of riders. This was about the only ride without long lines.
“You can ride Brown Beauty,” I said, climbing onto my black horse and introducing Went to the lesser brown model next to me.
Went started to climb up, but someone on the other side of him said, “Excuse me.” It was a girl about our age, wearing shorts and what could have passed for a bikini top. “I don’t suppose y’all could give me a lift up on this little ol’ white horse? ” Her Southern accent was thick enough to smother an alligator.
“Sure.” Went moved to the other side of Brown Beauty and stood behind the girl. “How do you want to do this?”
She laughed and smiled back at him. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
No. The question is, what do you think you’re doing with my boyfriend? There were empty saddles all over the merry-go-round—horses, tigers, chariots, all without riders. Why did she have to pick the horse next to ours?
Before I knew what was happening, Went had lifted her up and set her in the saddle. His hands stayed too long around her bare stomach. “Are you all set?” he asked, like he was afraid she’d fall off if he let her go.
“Fantastic, thanks to y’all.” She stuck out her sweet li’l hand. “I’m Jessica.”
Went shook her hand and nearly bowed. “Went Smith. Pleased to meet you.”
The merry-go-round started up, and Miss Jessica squealed like it was her first ride on the Screamin’ Eagle, instead of a kids’ merry-go-round.
“Went, you better mount, cowboy.” I said this while flashing a fake smile at Li’l Miss I’m-Too-Much-of-a-Girlie-Girl-to-Mount-a-Merry-Go-Round.
Went finally climbed aboard Brown Beauty. “Yahoo!” he cried, holding on with one hand and acting like he was rodeo riding.
A Southern laugh sounded from the other side of my boyfriend, and I saw Went give his full-court smile . . . to her.
As soon as the ride stopped, I yanked Went off his horse and led him to the exit. “On to more manly rides!” I cried. “How do you feel about roller coasters?”
We started with the easiest coaster and worked our way up. I’d always loved roller coasters. I remembered Mom bringing me to Six Flags and coaching me to stand on tiptoes when we reached the you-must-be-this-tall-to-ride signs.
Went and I were halfway through the long line waiting for The Boss, working our way to Mr. Freeze, my personal favorite in the roller-coaster category, when my gaze landed on two people who looked older than my grandparents. They were sitting on a bench and eating from the same ice cream cone. One would lick, and the other would laugh. Then they’d change roles. They watched each other with such profound love that I wondered what had brought them to Six Flags. Their fiftieth wedding anniversary? A birthday? Or did they come here every Saturday? I wanted that to be Went and me in fifty years, laughing and sharing an ice cream.
I turned to Went to point out the old couple, but he wasn’t there. I looked around until I saw him pressed against the side ropes half a dozen people behind me. He was talking to some girl who looked college age. I started to shout at him, but I didn’t. I stared at this great-looking couple smiling and talking together. Anyone would have thought they were boyfriend and girlfriend.
How could he look at her like that? I could never look at any guy the way he was looking at her. That’s just Went, I told myself. He doesn’t mean anything by it.
The line kept moving forward. Went and I kept moving farther and farther apart.
I waited for him to catch up with me, and we rode rides all over the park. I lost myself in the thrill of every minute spent with Went. I loved having him to hold on to when the roller coaster made that jerky climb right before the big drops. I loved his laughter when I screamed on the high-speed turns.
But then I’d lose him—for seconds or minutes. I lost him when I went for Cokes and found him, like I knew I would, talking to a stranger, a girl who looked like she’d won the lottery. Sometimes I lost him when we were only inches apart, like on one ride where we had to share a train car with two girls from Illinois. I wasn’t the only one hugging my boyfriend during the scary turns on that ride.
We ate dinner at a theme restaurant while cartoon characters roamed the aisles like they did all over the park. One minute I felt like the luckiest person on earth, so much in love with Went that I couldn’t wait to get back to that apartment and show him how much I loved him. And then I’d catch him eyeing a girl at another table, or he’d flirt with our waitress, and I’d have to excuse myself and go to the john so I wouldn’t cry.
When we walked outside, it was that magical time when day fights with night and slowly lets night have its way. Went took my hand. “Look at that sky, Bailey. It’s perfect. For us.” Orange-tinged clouds danced in the sky, and the setting sun winked at the horizon. The park lights winked, too. Nothing in the park was slowing down. People milled around in mini-packs. Theme-park characters handed balloons to crying children and posed for pictures with honeymooners. Went leaned down and kissed me. “Let’s go back.”
I nodded, a thrill flashing through me. This was it. This was all that mattered. Went was
never going to see the other girls at this park again. Only me. We headed for the exit. After a few steps, the heel of my right foot ached. I couldn’t help limping.
“What’s the matter?” Went asked.
“I guess I must have a blister. It’s no big deal.”
“You sure?”
We walked on, but I couldn’t come close to a normal walk. I had to slip my heel out of my stupid shoe and scoot the thing forward with my toes.
“Bailey, let’s take a look.” Went guided me to the nearest seat. Wooden benches were scattered around an octagon of bright pink flowers. It was one of the best places for kids to get their pictures taken with Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck.
I plopped down on the bench, and Went kneeled at my feet. Gently, he took off my shoe and lifted my foot to examine my heel. “Ugh,” he said, still holding my foot in his hands. “No wonder you were limping. You’ve got a king-sized, broken blister.”
“I’ll just keep my shoe off. I’ll be okay.” I started to get up, but he still had my foot.
“No way. Don’t suppose you have a Band-Aid?”
I shook my head.
He released my foot, set it down so tenderly, then stood up and glanced around. “There’s got to be a first-aid station around here. I’ll get some ointment and a Band-Aid.”
“Went, don’t,” I protested. “I can walk. This is silly.”
He grinned down at me. “No. What’s silly is having me carry you out of here. And that’s the only other option.”
“I’m sorry.” I felt like crying, and not because of the stupid blister.
He bent down and kissed my forehead. “Take it easy. I’ll be back with Band-Aids.”
There was nothing to do but lean back and wait. I watched two little girls, who had to be twins, get their picture taken with Bugs Bunny. A group of high school guys and girls formed a chorus line with Taz and Daffy while a woman snapped their pictures with everybody’s cameras.
I hadn’t worn my watch, but it felt like Went had been gone forever. I hoped he hadn’t had to walk too far. The orange clouds faded into the sky, leaving a gray-blue mix that blotted any leftover sun. Still I sat and waited. My thoughts bounced back and forth between what could have happened to Went and what was about to happen with Went and me. I didn’t want all of this time to think.
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