Dave touches my arm. It’s a simple move. I don’t think he notices that he’s doing it, and the act makes those butterflies flutter. He picks up the crate with the itchy kittens. “We’ll take care of them.”
“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Cranford says.
We turn to look at her.
“Beyoncé’s a boy.” She pulls Bey out of the crate and shows us the evidence. I’d missed it in my examination last night, maybe because Bey was peeing on me at the time.
“Great,” I say as Dave chuckles. “Thanks, Doc.”
“No problem. Call if you need me. And let me know if you hear anything.”
I fake salute her. “Will do.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Dave moves closer as we walk to the car. “What does she mean by that?”
I don’t want to tell him that I may be leaving in a few weeks for the West Coast. I’m not sure why. Fool, I think. Of course I know why. “Summer job.”
I watch Dave’s forearm as he carries the kittens between us. He whistles a song while he walks, just a dude and his cats, not a care in the world.
I like him.
Dammit. I like him.
Dave
Maggie adjusts the carrier on her lap and peeks inside. “I can’t believe I missed that they have fleas. I must have been distracted by their cuteness. Do I even tell Meg?”
Suddenly I’m itchy. I scratch the back of my neck. “Let’s see how things play out.”
When she doesn’t respond, I look over. Her ponytail is flipped across her shoulder and she’s so close. Like a few feet away. If I weren’t driving, I could stare at her all day.
“You seem calmer today,” she says.
I pull out of the lot and shrug. “Maybe because I have a plan. I never have a plan. It’s kind of nice.”
“Well, I’m the queen of plans. Fill me in.”
I pull onto the street and take a few breaths to settle my nerves. “Well, Magdalena…” As I check out the passenger window for oncoming traffic, my gaze drifts down her neck over her shirt, which fits…nicely. Really nicely. I refocus on the street. “First, I’m taking you somewhere—”
“Where?”
I ignore her and continue. “Second, we’ll go clean your room and do laundry—”
“Wait!” She reaches over, squeezing my forearm. “Where are you taking me?”
I love how she’s been touching me today and that I’m not going into cardiac arrest or becoming a stuttering fool. This date is working out a lot better than yesterday’s. “Surprise. And third. I have a gig tonight in the city. Maybe you and your friends want to come?” I didn’t intend to invite Maggie, it just sort of came out. I don’t want my date with her to end, and maybe the city will stretch it out. I hold my breath and wait for her response.
She lets go of my arm. “That’s a full day you have planned for us.”
I don’t like that statement. “I know Meg only promised me one date with you, but the way I see it, this is like one long date dragged out because of the mongrels—”
“I’d love to,” she says.
I smile but my words stop in my throat, confirming that I’m not totally in control of my faculties around her yet.
She looks into the crate. “And Beyoncé, Mr. Fluffy Paws Timberlake, and Elvis are not mongrels, Dave.”
“They have fleas. They’re dumpster-diving, disgusting—”
“Little angels,” she finishes. “Angels with fur. And they’re ours. We have to love them.”
The thought of anything being defined as “ours” makes me grin. I picture myself as a cartoon character with red hearts flowing out of my eyeballs.
She pulls out her phone. “I’ll text everyone to see if they want to come see your band tonight.”
“Sounds good.” I gulp and tap a beat on the steering wheel with my thumbs. A few miles down the road, I point out her window. “Look.”
Lady Liberty stands tall in the Hudson. I point Sadie into the state park with the awesome views of the Statue and the city.
Maggie gasps. “You brought me to the Statue of Liberty?”
I cringe. “Oh no. Is this dumb?”
I pull into a spot, wondering if I should pull back out and ditch my plan.
“Are you kidding? I love it!” She grabs my arm again. Her touches—my hand at the shelter, my arm when she’s excited—cause jolts of energy to zap through my body.
When I park, she lifts the carrier and opens her door, placing the kittens in the back seat. I get the basket I’d hidden in the trunk. “Shall we?” I hold out my bent elbow. I lifted that line and move right from the vampire book.
“We shall.” She loops her arm through mine. I suck in a breath as that jolt courses through me.
The park is empty, except for a few moms with kids on the playground. I lead her to a sunny spot overlooking the river, Ellis Island, and the Lady. I fling open the blanket I’d packed.
She helps spread the blanket and sits, her legs folded under her and her ponytail blowing with the breeze off the water. I can smell her strawberry shampoo as she pushes a loose strand behind her ear. She uses her hand to shade her eyes and looks up at me. “Sit.”
For a moment, I think I’m in a dream. All the times I imagined her looking at me, sitting near me, talking to me, and here I am with her full attention. I’m so going to blow this.
I sit and open the basket, apologizing for the simple food inside. “I didn’t know what you like, so I got us some sandwiches and iced teas. Cookies. You know, staples.”
She smiles and grabs a drink. “Nobody’s ever made me a picnic before.”
I remove the ice packs and lay out the snacks. “Not even Winston?” I can’t believe her boyfriend of all those years wouldn’t take her on a picnic.
“Especially not Winston. His idea of a picnic was eating fast food in the car.” She laughs, but I hear the disappointment in her voice.
I open the cookies and hand her one. “Is it hard living next to him?”
She shrugs. “Sometimes. We’ve known each other since we were seven. Every summer, Win and me, at camp. It’s a long history to give up on. Not to mention I thought he’d be leaving the country, and he ends up next door to me.” When she takes a second to look up to the sky, I see the pain on her face.
“Winston’s a fool.” I’m jealous of the little shit and the gift he received from fate to be next door to Maggie. Jealous, but at the same time, I want to kick his ass for hurting her.
“We’re trying to be friends again. We were fine in Miami. It takes time. You know, broken hearts and all that.” She pulls the chocolate chips off her cookie and eats them separate. Somehow, she makes it look cute.
I’m lost in a Maggie trance, watching her eat her cookies for a moment until she asks, “What about you?”
“Me? I don’t know Winston well enough to try to be friends.” Maybe my lame attempt at a joke will distract her from what she’s trying to ask.
“Ha. I mean, have you ever had your heart broken?”
I pause for a second to come up with another joke, but the truth is easier. “I’ve never given it to anyone to break.”
“That’s sad,” she says. “Everyone should have their heart broken once. Makes them appreciate love more.”
I’m not so sure. I’ve seen heartbreak in action with my sisters and Tuck. It’s not pretty. “That’s an interesting way to look at things.”
She pulls out her phone and checks her messages. “Everyone wants to come to your show tonight. Chase, Juliet, Rocco, Pooja. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” I beat down my nerves about Maggie watching me and the guys perform.
She tucks her phone back into her pocket. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Hmm.” I focus on my cookie and try picking off the chips like she does.
“Why don’t you have a phone?”
I shrug. “I have one. I have no desire to use it and don’t feel like setting it up. It’s in the box.”
&nb
sp; She raises her eyebrows. “Lazy much?”
“And…” I reach over to tug her ponytail, “I don’t want to talk to people all the time. I like hiding. I don’t want my parents or my sisters harassing me.”
“You have sisters?”
“Three. I’m the third of four. The fifteen-year-old was a mistake. You have any siblings?”
Maggie rolls her eyes. “I have a fifteen-year-old annoying sister too. Definitely not a mistake.”
We compare little sister notes, concluding that the two of us were way more mature at that age than our sisters are. The conversation is casual, and for a second, I forget I’m supposed to be nervous.
“You know, I may not have a phone but I have an iPod I can’t live without. Does that impress you?”
She shakes her head. “Um, not at all, Mr. Last Decade. Phones play music too now.”
“Do they?” I tilt my head and look to the sky, acting like I don’t know.
Her eyes widen. “You’re kidding, right?”
I reach for her arm. “I am.” Her skin is warm and soft. I run my thumb over her wrist. She doesn’t pull away.
“I’d like to see your iPod. Maybe you can play me some music sometime?” she whispers, as if she’s uncertain.
“We…we can do that?” My brain scrambles.
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
I shake my head, not sure how to answer. “You want to hang out with me? Even though I’m a weirdo with no phone?”
She reaches for my wrist this time. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, David.”
I put my hand over hers to hold her there, to keep her connected to me. The more we touch, the more I crave it. “Well, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met either, Magdalena.” Her smile stirs up a bit of my inner rock star Dave. This time when I flash my grin, she’s the one who blushes and turns away.
We sit in silence, picking at our food and looking over the water. It’s comfortable. The sun is hot, but there’s a nice breeze off the Hudson. New Jersey’s perfect in the spring—not too warm, not too cold. Every few seconds, I find a way to touch her. Hand her something, make my knee touch her leg, nudge her with my shoulder. It’s like I’m in middle school all over again. Maggie doesn’t seem to mind.
She catches my eye and smiles. When I look away, she scoots closer, so we’re arm to arm, and rests her head on my shoulder. Feels damn good. I feel like a champ as we sit there, looking at the skyline and eating cookies. The Statue appears to sway, waving at us. I exhale and let the sun warm my face. It’s just like the romance novels.
“Can I tell you something, just so you know?” I ask her, without thinking too hard about it.
“Sure.” She turns to me, our faces inches apart.
I look at the ground in front of me. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone since the first week of school. It’s sort of because of you, and sort of not.”
“What do you mean?”
I take a moment. Now that I’m more in control of myself, I feel the need to explain to her why I’m not rock star Dave when I’m around her. How she’s different to me. Why I want to be around her. “When I first saw you, you were at the library, feeding the squirrel. I thought I was the only one who could see you, like you were a vision I created. When I realized you were real, I couldn’t believe….”
My voice trails off. I try to match my feelings for Maggie in those early days to words.
Her blue eyes widen, and she tilts her head, studying me. “What couldn’t you believe?”
I continue before I lose my nerve. “I couldn’t believe we were sharing the same air.”
“Dave—”
“Not in a crazy way. I wasn’t stalking you or anything. I just liked looking at you. Still do.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “You’re too sweet.”
My face warms and my stomach knots. This is the most I’ve ever said to a girl about my feelings. “I wasn’t waiting for you, since I thought you’d be with Winston forever. You two seemed tight. But still, how I felt about you made me want to find something…real. Or more real, if that makes sense, than just random hookups. You, and then when Frank died, it’s like I wanted to change myself. Live a better life.”
She smiles. “Living a better life is a good thing.”
I shrug. “Chase seemed a little aggravated by my reputation. I wanted you to know…that…I’m not….”
As I search for the right word, Maggie’s eyes widen, and her face freezes. Her brow furrows as she grabs her arm. Her deep breaths are loud.
Something’s not right. “Maggie?”
The arm she’s grabbing swells before my eyes. “Oh no,” she says.
My heart beats faster as I study her face. Her jaw tenses, and her eyes start to tear. “What’s wrong?”
She leans close. “I have about ten seconds to get this out.” Her eyes laser into mine. “I just got stung by a bee. I’m allergic. I need you to go to your car and get the allergy shot out of my purse. It’s a tube with a yellow top. You have to go quickly. Bring it here.”
A million thoughts rush through my head. Allergic?
She gasps for breath.
Watching her struggle pushes me into action, but I don’t want to leave her. “Maggie? Oh my God.”
“Go!” Her tone is forceful, but her volume is low. “The bag.”
The panicked look in her eyes scares me to death, so I listen to her and take off, running for Sadie. I reach the car in about five seconds flat, throw open the passenger door, and grab Maggie’s bag. I yell, “Call 9-1-1” at the moms in the park as I run by back to Maggie, hoping someone will help us.
I search the bag as I move. The yellow tube. It’s buried on the bottom.
When I reach the blanket, I fall to my knees in front of her. Her arm is swollen. She’s grabbing her throat. “Open,” she says, using her chin to point to the tube in my hand.
I look at it, my hands shaking. I can’t even figure out how to open the damn thing. “Holy shit, Maggie, what do I do?”
She takes the tube and pops the top. A syringe slides out. Holding it in her fist, she jams it into her thigh, right through her jeans.
A woman holding a toddler runs over. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. Did you call an ambulance?”
The lady nods and holds up her phone.
I help Maggie lay flat. She collapses on the blanket and holds her leg out. “Rub where I put the medicine. Lift my leg onto your lap.”
I take her leg, massaging the medicine through her jeans. With my other hand, I reach and push her hair from her face. “Are you okay? What should I do?”
Her breathing returns to normal, but her eyes are wide as she examines her arm. She looks as scared as I feel—but says, “I’m okay.”
Within minutes, an ambulance arrives. I tell them what happened as they take her vitals. They lift her onto a stretcher and wheel her away.
“Wait!” she yells. The stretcher stops moving.
I run to her side as they’re about to load her into the ambulance.
“Come?” she begs.
As if I wouldn’t. “Of course. I’ll follow.”
The driver takes Maggie’s purse from me and tells me they’re taking her to the emergency room at St. Gertrude’s. I run to Sadie—I’d left the door wide open—and drive as fast as I can to catch up to the ambulance. No phone means no GPS, and I can’t lose sight of Maggie. Not until I know she’s going to be okay.
Chapter 8
Maggie
When I wake up in the hospital shivering, a warm blanket magically appears over my shoulders. I blink a couple of times to focus.
Dave.
He brushes my hair from my face. “How are you feeling?”
His twinkly eyes warm me as much as the blanket does. I smile through my chattering teeth. “Cold. Shaky.”
“The doctor said those are the side effects.” Scooting his chair closer to the bed, he tilts his head to mirror mine, examining me. Then he lays his c
heek on the pillow next to me. “So the farm girl is allergic to bees?”
Poor Dave’s trying so hard to impress me, and then I go into anaphylactic shock. The whole thing is just…ridiculous. I can’t hold back a giggle.
“Any other allergies I need to know about?” His voice is soft, his smile wide. He leans in like he’s telling me a secret he doesn’t want anyone to overhear.
I can’t stop laughing. Maybe it’s from the meds, or the situation, or nerves with him being so close yet so coherent. “I’m sorry I scared you,” I spit out between giggles. “You…you’re this amazing musician dude, and I’m a mess.”
He laughs too and wipes a tear from under my eye with his thumb. “Are you kidding? You were like a boss with that needle. I’m thankful you did it and I didn’t have to.”
I recall the details. The park. The sting. Dave at the shelter. “The kittens?”
“I left them in the carrier in the car with the window cracked. They’re fine. I took care of them.”
Of course he did. I stick my hands over the blanket and he takes them in his, inching his upper body even closer.
“Are you regretting that Meg set us up on this date?” I whisper. “Last night, the dumpster. Now, the hospital.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he says. For the ninth or tenth time in the past twenty-four hours, I melt a little.
Then with a chuckle, he asks, “How about we get your sorry-excuse-for-a-farm-girl, allergic ass home?”
I like hospital snuggling with him though, so when he tries to sit up, I pull him back, keeping a hold of his hands. He rests his head on the pillow next to me, and his long fingers squeeze mine.
I lift my head and kiss his nose. “Thank you.”
His cheeks turn pink, and he leans in and does the same. It’s the first time I’ve felt his lips. They’re strong and warm, like everything about him. After he pecks me, he sits up and hits the button on the bed for the nurse.
The doctor discharges me, and Dave drives us back to Sheridan. I text Meg and my mother and tell them what happened, that I’m fine and well-cared for. I make sure Meg knows not to come back to the room until we deflea it. Mom tries to give me an earful about being careful, my allergy, spring bees, and boys, asking why I was on a date when I’m supposedly on a sexual moratorium. I blow her off and tell her I’ll call her later. I can’t deal with the motherload now.
She Wants It All: Book Three of the Sheridan Hall Series Page 7
