Love and Other Secrets

by Christina Mandelski

  I see her car. She’s here. Oh God. Oh shit. I can’t breathe. I’m really gonna do this? Go full-on pizza rat? He puts the car in park, and I don’t move. It’s like my feet are all of a sudden made of lead.

  “Kov,” Eli says. “You got this. Don’t think. Just go.”

  I nod my head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I breathe from my toes, and just like that, my feet are moving again. I grab the plant, the bags of candy, the tub of chalk, and somehow manage to get all the balloons in one hand.

  Then I’m standing in front of the door to Java Infusion. She’s in there. I see her behind the counter, and it’s all I need, that glimpse of her, to know.

  This is the right thing. This is the only thing.

  This promposal is ON.

  Chapter Forty

  Bailey

  The store is packed and loud, and then everything goes silent. I’m behind the coffee machine making a triple shot dark chocolate latte, no foam, when I look up to see what the heck is going on.

  I almost drop the cup.

  “Holy crap,” Jax whispers from the register.

  It’s Alex. He’s covered in mud, still in his lacrosse uniform, holding a million balloons. The crowd parts for him.

  It feels like a scene; the can light shines right above him, and the camera follows as he moves forward. My eyes are latched onto his as I’m swept with all the feelings.

  “What are you doing?” I manage to ask as he reaches the counter.

  Straight-faced, he holds out the balloons. So many rabbit balloons. He thrusts them toward me, and I take them.

  “What are you doing?” I ask again.

  He shakes his head, but one corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile.

  What is happening here?

  He’s holding a white plastic bag from Publix and dumps it onto the counter. He piles up like fifteen boxes of Sno Caps.

  My heart is in my throat. “Alex?”

  “Wait,” he says. He lifts a finger to his mouth, his smile smaller now, his eyebrows pulled together. He bends down and picks something off the floor. The crowd parts once again as he walks toward the chalkboard wall. There’s a big blank spot in the center. He peels open the tub in his hands and pulls out a thick piece of sidewalk chalk.

  My chest constricts. What is happening? My mind’s not working. He’s writing something on the wall. He makes a letter P, about three feet tall. It takes him forever. Then he moves on to an R. His face is serious, concentrating on forming the letters. He stands back, checks out his work, turns to me, doesn’t smile, doesn’t wink, just looks at me, then goes back to writing. Oh my God, hurry up!

  O

  M

  ?

  I swallow hard and glance around the shop. Cell phones are everywhere. There’s his friend Eli, phone up, grinning widely.

  “Go. Out. There,” Jax whispers out of the corner of his mouth.

  Alex walks back over to the counter, bends and picks something else on the floor, and holds out a plant? It’s a beautiful pale blue hydrangea, in a pot. He’s framed by the PROM? behind him.

  “Go,” Jax says, more forceful this time.

  “Stop it,” I snap at him out of the corner of my mouth.

  I stare at Alex, at his handsome face that is so open and his smile that seems to be saying, “I don’t care that everyone in here is watching me.” But it’s not that easy, and I don’t know what to do. I believe in goals, not dreams. This? Feels like a dream.

  I shake my head and turn my back to him. I need to organize my thoughts. As different as we are, as heartbreaking as the last week has been, I’ve never wanted anything so much as I want to kiss him again and say yes. I wipe my hands down the front of my apron, and I realize the problem is this: I can’t go back to being friends. I want more.

  How do I explain that? I can’t think of the right words. I can’t breathe, even from my toes. But then Jax walks away, and Alex is in front of me. He drops to a knee, holds out the plant.

  “Please?”

  “Alex.” I shake my head.

  “I lied to you. I know. I did. I’m sorry. I was desperate. Like out of my mind. I didn’t want you to go with him.” He’s a mess with dried mud and dirt all over his face. It’s still the most perfect face, I think as I stare down at it.

  Even though he might look perfect, I know his flaws. He knows mine, too. I know I’ve got them. I take the plant, put it down on the counter, and shake my head. “I can’t,” I say. “Alex, I can’t be friends with you. I’m sorry.”

  “Me either,” he says, and I’m stunned.

  “Well, then, what do you want?” I ask.

  He swallows so hard I hear the gulp. “I don’t want to be friends.” His voice cracks. “Well, I want to be friends, but I want more. I want to be…” He blinks slowly. “Yours?”

  I point to myself, in case he’s confused. “Mine?”

  He nods. “Since day one. In the express lane. I’m sorry I pretended I didn’t want more. I did. I do. I want to go to prom, but only if it’s with you. I want to do everything only with you.” He reaches out and takes my hands in his. “Please say yes.”

  My heart beats a strong and steady cadence. Everything? With me? I pull a hand out of his grasp and touch his cheek. I’m scared, I’m not going to lie, unsure of what all this means, but then he lets go and reaches for my hips. I let him pull me closer, until we’re so close that all I need to do is bend down and kiss him.

  I swipe at a speck of dirt near his mouth.

  “You’ve got a little something…” I whisper, and then I lean in and he tilts up and slowly, softly, our lips touch. Just before we get down to the business of really kissing, I whisper, “Yes,” and then it happens, like in the movies, except this is not a movie, and it’s not a dream. It’s real.

  The shot pulls in tight. The crowd claps, but then they fade away, and it’s just the two of us. Me. And my prom date. Me and Alex. Kissing.

  When he stands up, he digs in one of the bags. “Oh shit, I almost forgot.” He pulls out a small tube, flips off the cap and dumps something into his hand.

  I grimace. “Is that—?”

  His eyes meet mine. They’re crinkled up at the edges. “Most important ingredient of a successful promposal.”

  He tosses it into the air, and glitter flies everywhere, catching the light, and everything is sparkling and magic, and he’s holding me tight and now I know it’s true.

  No one can resist glitter.

  No one.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Alex

  She said yes.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Bailey

  It’s prom night, and I’m standing behind my bedroom door, staring into the fun house mirror. I feel beautiful. Nervous, yeah, but also like I’m going to prom with the only person on earth I want to be with. The guy I love.

  It’s true. I love him. These last few weeks have been crazy. He’s grounded for a month, which isn’t up until after prom, but his parents were nice enough to give him the night off for good behavior. They even gave him back his phone for twenty-four hours.

  Most of our time together since he asked me to prom is spent in the library at lunch where we hide in the back corner desk and make out.

  The kissing has only improved since that night on his sofa. He might not know exactly what he wants to do with his life, but he’s not just good at lacrosse, trust me.

  Our promposal went viral, as they do, and my film contest entry is almost complete. Eli got the whole thing on his phone and passed it on to me, so I’ve got good footage. I’m not going to lie, it’s embarrassing to watch, but it’s such good cinema. No director worth their salt could turn their back on it. I’ll do some interviews at the dance tonight, and then I’ll edit it all together this week in between shifts at work. I don’t know if it’ll be good enough to win, but it’s exactly what I imagined when I came up with the idea. It’s my original vision—but better.

  High schoolers taking a risk, asking a question, wishi
ng for the right answer, and hoping for a magical night. A high school tradition. The prom.

  Jax begrudgingly gave me the day off again. He moaned and groaned and made me suffer, but I know he’s happy for me, deep down. Somewhere in there is a decent guy that he lets out every once in a while.

  The doorbell rings, and I hear Mom and Dad scuttle. They’re more nervous than I am, I think. Honestly, even though my pulse is racing, my nervousness fades. I can’t wait to see him.

  I apply a little more lipstick and check my hair. Mom helped me pull it up Audrey Hepburn style. Then I smooth down the front of the Christian Dior, breathe from my toes, and go.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Alex

  I have no business going anywhere with someone so hot.

  “You look—” I begin, after hugging her mom and shaking hands with her father, who is nice to me but also looks like he might want to kill me. I can’t think of a word that fits how Bailey looks. “Like a movie star,” I finally finish.

  Hey, that works.

  She quirks up her mouth, and her gray eyes turn up at the corners. It did work.

  I give her a small bouquet of flowers tied with a white ribbon. My mom said corsages are out and these nosegay things are in.

  “Thanks.” She smiles, and all I want to do is kiss her, but then Mr. Banfield will definitely slaughter me in cold blood right here on the kitchen floor. “You ready?”

  We’re going back to my house and taking pictures, and then we’re all riding in a party bus to the hotel in Ocala. There’s an after party at someone’s lake house, but we’re not going. My parents lifted my grounding so that I can hang out with Bailey, but that was the limit of their generosity. I’m more excited to have a private after party with Bailey. We’re going back to my house, where Miriam has left us an all-you-can-eat buffet of our favorites.

  She leans forward and kisses me on the lips. Her mom is smiling, and her dad looks away. She swipes at my mouth. “Lipstick,” she says. “Let’s go.”

  And we do.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Bailey

  The ballroom looks amazing, giant paper clocks and calendar pages hanging on the walls for the It’s the End of the World as We Know It theme.

  The deejay plays great music, and I’m glad to see that my date can actually dance. Every few songs, I grab my camera and walk around the dance floor, then I move to the outskirts of the room for some candid shots. Eli and Nora, who came with us on the bus, are sitting close together at our table. They’re so nice and seem so happy. I see Caleb walking away from the bar with two drinks in his hand. He came with us on the bus too, dateless. He sees me and walks over. I still feel terrible about what happened, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

  “Hey, Bailey,” he says a bright smile on his face. “You having fun?”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “I am. You?”

  “Sure. Of course. I get to dance with anyone I want and don’t have to worry about a date. It’s kinda cool.” I almost believe him, but I suspect he’d like to be here with someone who means something more.

  “I gotta go,” he says. “Save me a dance?”

  “Yes, I will,” I say and put the camera to my eye, focus it on the dance floor. There, at the edge, I see Alex smiling and beckoning me over with a finger. I grin.

  “Dance with me, Spielberg?”

  “Of course, Mr. Trust Fund.”

  He sweeps me into his arms, and we move toward the center of the dance floor. I’m still holding the camera, but he’s going to have to get used to that. I have goals. So does he. He’s decided to major in Psychology. He thinks maybe someday he’ll be a family counselor, maybe a part-time Love Guru.

  The opening drums of the prom theme song starts to play, then the crazy lyrics start to come fast and furious, and I’m right where I should be, in his arms.

  He pulls me close, and we slow dance to this fast song, and I know that I really love this boy with all my heart.

  We sway, no longer secret friends, but it still feels like we’re the only two people here. I have never been so happy, the whole night, the whole world, the whole universe, stretched out in front of us, with endless possibilities.

  It’s the end of the world as we know it.

  And I feel fine.

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  Acknowledgments

  Writing seems like such a solitary endeavor sometimes, but it truly takes a bustling, smart, supportive village to bring a book to life. Thank you to my editor, Heather Howland, whose creativity and encouragement shaped this story. You are incredibly talented, and I’m so lucky to be working with you. Thanks always to Danielle Chiotti, my awesome agent who is so on the ball and always there to shore me up in a million ways. Thank you to the entire team at Entangled. I love all of you and so admire your dedication to your authors and to good books. Thanks also to all the teachers, librarians and book bloggers who champion reading. You make all the difference.

  I’d be lost without my writer friends—WWFCers (are we working for custard now?), LODers, Class of 2k11ers, the empresses of Empire, Amy Dominy, Kristin Rae, and all others who have helped, cheered, read, or critiqued. Thanks to friends and family who put up with my crazy writing moods—happy one minute, harried the next—especially Jill Holliday and my sister Jeanne Durr. Special thanks to Hannah Boyd, Abby Ferguson, Jenna Gorup, and Jack Hyler, whose brainstorming was priceless. I’ll miss you hanging around, but I can’t wait to see how you leave your mark on the world. Thanks to Heather Holliday for your amazing copyediting skills. You’re going to kill it at OU! Thank you, Mom and Dad, for believing in me since the literal beginning. Thanks to my girls—Lily, whose sweet nature and determination inspire me every day. I’m so proud of you. And to Cate for your humor and affection—congratulations on your graduation. Go forth and tell your stories in your own unique way, but yikes, I’m going to miss you like crazy. To my absolute rock and life-long romantic lead, Michael—thank you for absolutely everything. I love you forever. And finally, thank you God for all my blessings and that I get to do exactly what I love.

  About the Author

  Christina Mandelski loves to bring the characters in her head to life on the page. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, traveling and reading (preferably under an umbrella at the beach). Chris lives with her husband and two daughters in Houston. You can visit her at www.christinamandelski.com.

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