Between Us and the Moon - Rebecca Maizel Page 0,49
for a summer birthday party?”
I step farther into the parking lot and take out my cell. The phone rings a couple of times on the other end.
“Hello?” Mom says.
“Hey, it’s me, Bean.” I exhale away from the mouthpiece of the phone so she can’t hear my voice shaking.
“Beanie?!” She’s either surprised or angry, I can’t tell which one. Oh boy—here it is, I should have brought the damned telescope. She somehow knows I lied.
“Just wanted to remind you I’ll be out late tonight. You said I could stay out a little later? For my birthday? Remember? Like eleven? Eleven thirty?” Making excuses seems safe. I wish I hadn’t called.
Mom yawns.
“I thought you were home already,” she says.
“But—” The rest of my words stop at my teeth.
“Be careful,” she says.
Mom always says, “Be careful.” She says it to everyone, even when they go to the grocery store. She hangs up.
She thought I was home?
I immediately dial Tucker’s number without thinking but click end at the first ring. Ugh. That means he’ll see the missed call. A tiny voice wonders if he’ll call back. I don’t want to answer it either way. I can’t tell him about my humiliation tonight at dinner or here at the Break Away in a dress that’s too fancy for the occasion. Tucker’s not mine to call anymore. He’s not the same. We’re not the same.
I can’t call Ettie, either. She’s at an overnight for band camp.
“Sarah?” Andrew calls my name from the middle of the stairs.
I thought you were home already.
I won’t go back to the party. I never want to go in there again. Who dresses like that for a birthday party?
It’s actually really hard to think someone is home when they aren’t. People make noise—even in a big house.
“Sarah?”
“Yeah?” I call, but my voice squeaks.
Andrew’s footsteps move to the asphalt.
She thought I was home?
Radium, potassium, neon. My bottom lip trembles. Crap. Constellations. Name the constellations. Cassiopeia. Ursa Major.
“Sarah!” Andrew’s voice echoes behind me.
That uneasiness is back. That same uneasiness I felt before I left to meet Andrew. Like there is a hole in the center of my belly.
Andrew meets me at the edge of the parking lot. He steps in front of me and searches my eyes.
“Maggie’s crazy. She’s my ex. We dated last summer. And she wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.” He takes a step toward me and cups my face with his hands. The calluses on his palms rub at the apples of my cheeks.
“I thought this was a fancy party,” I say.
“It is.”
“I didn’t know I was overdressed. I thought, I thought . . .” I can’t finish.
“You could wear a prom dress to the fish market and I wouldn’t give a shit,” Andrew says.
The intensity in his eyes lifts my spirits a little.
“Really? A prom dress?”
He drops his hands. “Yes. And I’m sure you’ll tell me—”
“That would be highly impractical. The satin or the sequins could get caught on any number of shelves or—” He stops me with a kiss. Whenever he looks at me like that, I can’t be Scarlett. I slip up. How does he have this effect on me?
When Andrew pulls away he kisses my nose, too. “Let’s get out of here. Wanna go somewhere? How about the beach?”
“Okay,” I say. The embarrassment still churns my stomach even though it seems like my factual outburst was kind of . . . good?
Once we get back to his pickup, I lean my back against the truck.
“You certainly told her off,” he says and raises his eyebrows.
“I’ve never done that in my entire life.”
“You can hold your own. I like that.”
Andrew presses against me.
His touch just makes me want to do something crazy. Before meeting me, Andrew had never met a girl who tracked a comet. What about a girl who could show him the deepest parts of the ocean?
“No,” I say. “No beach tonight. I know what I want. I want to take you somewhere you’ve never been.”
Andrew raises an eyebrow. “Where is that?”
I want to show him something real.
The real me.
FIFTEEN
“WHERE WE’RE GOING IS A SURPRISE,” I SAY. “WE have to stop at my house. But no one can see us,” I say.
“A covert operation? Excellent!”
I laugh from the bottom of my gut. A real laugh. My laugh. “Let’s go,” I say.
We get into the truck and I slide the window down, I want the wind to whip through my hair. Maybe I want it to sting my cheeks. Andrew’s hand slides onto my kneecap.