to pick me up, and we stand on his driveway in the chilly fall air.
“Thank you, Liam, that was nice of you.”
“Ah . . . no it wasn’t.” He stretches his arms, rubs his hand over his head. He didn’t wear a jacket outside, and his arms are bare. I always thought I’d go for the slim, nerdy, quiet type in college. But Liam is a football player, which I swore never to date. He’s the popular guy with all the charm. More strikes against him. He’s loud and funny and comfortable being the center of attention in a way I never will be. And yet . . .
“Of course it was nice. You helped me a lot.”
“Maybe. But it wasn’t with a pure heart. Listen, I’m not exactly hiding the fact that I like you. And I’m totally cool with us being friends. It’d just be nice to see you outside of school sometimes.”
Oh.
“I told you, Liam, I don’t have time.”
There are so many things I don’t say.
“You’re right, you don’t have time.”
Exactly.
Wait.
“What?”
“You’ve got this college thing in the bag, Leighton. Why don’t you just, ya know, have a little fun? Do you ever have fun? Because I haven’t seen any sign of it. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Let’s just hang out. Get to know each other more.”
I know there are a thousand reasons to say no. And I’m needed at home.
But Liam is smiling down at me, and I just spent a few hours in the warm, safe haven of his lovely home, and I’m seized by the desire to be selfish. The desire to say yes.
“Okay.”
Liam grins, and I’m already glad I did it.
“Okay,” he says. “So, next Friday, James is having another bonfire. Shouldn’t be too wild or crazy. Sound all right?”
“Okay,” I say again.
“Oh, and . . . do you want a ride to school?” he asks. “I drive right past the turn to your house to get to school, so it’s on my way. It’ll give you a break from a crappy bus ride. Plus . . . maybe you kinda sorta like my company?”
“Kinda.” I smile. “Sorta.”
“Yes?” he asks.
“Um. Yeah. Yes, I can do that. I mean, thank you.”
A minute later, Mom arrives and picks me up. And for most of the night, I feel great about saying yes. All the way home, and while I review my calc notes at our kitchen table. As I say a soft good night to Mom where she’s already fallen asleep on the couch, and as I get ready for bed.
But when I get to my room, I find Campbell and Juniper asleep in my bed, and I feel a pang of guilt so strong it physically hurts.
They stir as I climb in with them.
“Hey, Cammy,” I say into the dark, my voice low. I don’t want to wake her if she’s already drifted back to sleep.
“Yeah?”
“Do you mind if I go to a party Friday night?”
“Ha. I knew it wasn’t about art,” she says. I don’t have to see her face to picture the smile on it. Brat.
“He offered to drive me to school in the morning, too.”
“That’s good, Leighton. We’ll be fine. You never would have said no to my bike rides. You need things, too.”
I should make a point of talking to sleepy Campbell more often. She’s so nice.
“Besides, all you ever do is study. If you read too much, your head will explode.”
And there she is.
I laugh and press my feet up against her bare legs.
“Jesus, Leighton, your feet are icicles.” She grabs an extra throw pillow and shoves it under the blankets, between our legs. “There. The pillow can defrost you.”
Maybe this will be okay. I can’t make a habit of it, but it’s one night. One party. Not even a real party, just a bonfire with friends.
One night to feel seventeen.
Before I miss it altogether.
Chapter Twenty-Three
THE BONFIRE IS WELL-ENOUGH CONTAINED IN a pit dug into the earth and surrounded by a ring of stones, but the flames don’t know it. They spit and lick at us, red and gold claws searching for something to catch on. They strike me as something hungry, and I imagine them catching prey in the form of an old white house on Frederick Street. They would consume it all, crackling with ravenous delight as they fed on wood and painful memories.
The heat of the fire is too much. My face is hot and flushed, and I suddenly feel like I’m the thing