but you’re right. My dad has no clue, either.”
“It’s the mothers you’ve gotta watch out for. They’re the ones behind the scenes micromanaging every detail, making you think something they want you to do is really your idea.”
I kept silent as I always do when people start griping about their mothers.
Ian must have sensed that he’d overstepped some sort of boundary, because he added, “But I’m sure your mother’s nothing like that, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
More silence. I hugged my knees tightly. After a few minutes of this painful awkwardness, Ian asked softly, “Did I just say something wrong? I do that, you know. A. Lot.”
Oh, god. Exactly what I wanted to avoid. If I said, “I don’t want to talk about it,” I’d come off as rude. And yet, if I did relay the morose story about losing Mom, Ian would probably pull a move like my funeral-boyfriend, Derek James, and get as far and as fast away from me as possible.
This was the one vow Jess and I had made to each other: No one would know about her family’s “downturn in finances,” as the Swynkowskis put it, and no one would know about Mom. But if there was one lesson I’d learned during this summer, it was that some rules are worthwhile, and others need to be broken.
I said bluntly, “My mom’s gone.”
“Oh.” He pushed a stone with his foot. “I was afraid it was something like that. When did she leave?”
“She didn’t leave. I mean, not willingly.” I took a big, cleansing breath like Ari, my grief counselor, said I should in these situations. “She died. A year and a half ago, after being sick forever.”
Dammit! As I feared saying that out loud triggered the familiar dreaded reaction. My eyes suddenly burned. My nose tingled. I was going to cry, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“I miss her every day.” My voice choked.
Ian said, “Come here.” His arm slid around me, drawing me to him, and he gently pressed my head to his shoulder. We sat like that until my sobs subsided and I could be a normal human again.
“Sorry,” I said. “I try not to do that.”
“It’s your mom. I totally get it.”
We were silent again, so quiet that the frogs had enough confidence to start up. “I really like being here, Ian. With you.”
He didn’t say anything, and I was worried that I’d come across as too needy, what with the crying and then the sappy admission that I liked him. I started to wiggle away, but he only held me tighter.
“Would you think I was scum if I made a pass at you right now?” he asked.
I smiled to myself. “That depends. Do you want to kiss me because you just found out I’m a tragic figure? Or is this your thing, hitting on girls who’ve lost their mothers?”
“Zoe,” he said, with complete and utter seriousness, “I’m not gonna lie. I’ve wanted to kiss you every day since I saw you at orientation making an ass out of yourself with Dash.”
“It was Dash who—” But I didn’t get a chance to finish. He thumbed a few remaining tears off my cheeks and hesitated.
“You okay with this?”
“With what?” My pulse had started pounding so hard, it had drowned out every sound except for my beating heart.
“I know you’ve been through a tough time, and I don’t want to—”
Oh, please. I brought my hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down. At the touch of his lips on mine, I quivered, and—sensing this—he wrapped me in his arms to steady me.
We broke away, and he shook his head. “Wow. And I do not mean that in the Fairyland sense of the word.”
“I know, right?” I laughed.
“Let’s try that again just to make sure it was legit.” This time I let him make the first move. And this time we didn’t break away.
Somehow we got off the rocks and onto the beach, falling onto the sand, laughing. Next I knew he was on top of me, kissing me and stroking my hair and all I kept thinking was, He’s a Hollister model. How rad is that?
I wanted him to keep going, but he rolled off and rested on one elbow, just looking at me and grinning.
I said, “What?”
“I was just remembering you that first day, how self-righteous you were about everything. You were like some sort of ice princess.”
“I was so not an ice princess.” Valerie. She was an ice princess.
“Really? You