make it work?” she asked. “Cross-country?”
“Mom.” A bright flash of genuine irritation jetted through me at how quickly she went from me hanging out with Sam to imagining a long-distance relationship. I loved her romantic streak, but sometimes it was more pushy than anything. “I’m eighteen, and we aren’t a thing.”
“I’m not setting you up to be a child bride, Tate. But to just . . . have fun. Be eighteen.”
“Isn’t it your job to discourage this kind of behavior?”
I could almost see her waving this concern away “You get plenty of that from Nana. I’m just dreaming, you know me, having the fun conversation and what-ifs.”
“I like him but—I don’t want to get my hopes up and start talking about what-ifs.”
“Why not?” she asked. “It’s not like you won’t be disappointed regardless if nothing happens. I don’t know why people think permanent denial is better than temporary disappointment.”
I knew she was right, allowing myself a few moments of fantasy as I made my way from the elevator to the back doors that led to the garden. My only boyfriend to date lived a half mile down the road from me. What would it be like to date someone in another state, clear across the country?
“I mean,” I said, giving in, “he’s so cute, Mom. But he’s more than that, he’s really easy to talk to. I feel like I could tell him anything.”
Mom paused again, and in that silence I heard how quickly the unspoken question formed. Finally: “Did you?”
What was I hearing in her voice? Fear or excitement? Sometimes they sound the same—thin and tight, words clipped.
Would she be angry if I’d told him? Or would she understand my desire to lay claim to this glimmering history of ours? Sometimes I got the weird sense that I was disappointing her by not rebelling and shouting from a megaphone who I was, who she was, where we came from. In London, I wanted there to be a reason for my small-town clothes, bland ponytail, outdated style. I told myself it could be fun, playing the role of the country mouse in a big city. But in the privacy of my own thoughts and as selfish as it sounded, I wanted the world to know that it was just an act, that I wasn’t meant to be a fish out of water in this land of cosmopolitan women.
Daughter of world’s most famous actor has been living a simple life in a tiny town and never learned fashion. She’s so down to earth!
But I told Mom a lie instead of the truth. “No way, Mom. I would never.”
She exhaled, humming quietly. “Okay, muffin. Let’s talk tomorrow?”
I blew her a kiss before hanging up, feeling the sour weight of the lie settling in my gut.
Not unlike pulling a curtain closed, the guilt melted away as soon as I stepped outside into the dark, glimmering night. Sam didn’t look up as I settled beside him on the chilly grass, but I could feel the way he shifted, sliding just a little bit closer.
“’Bout time,” he said. It was dark but I could hear the smile in his voice. “I was getting sleepy.”
The urge to reach out and hold his hand spread through me like an electric wave. “Sorry. My mom called to see how things are going.”
He turned to me in the dark. “Is she jealous, with you and Jude all the way out here in London?”
“I wondered the same thing.” I sat up and crossed my legs, looking down at him. Inside, I felt keyed up, sort of jittery.
“You okay?” he asked.
“She asked me whether I told you about Dad.”
Sam smiled up at me. “You mentioned me to your mom?”
“Yeah.”
“And?” He waggled his eyebrows. “What’d you say?”
“That I met a guy named Sam.”
Playful disbelief took over his expression. “That’s it?”
I hoped he couldn’t see my flushed neck and cheeks in the darkness. “What am I supposed to say?”
“That I’m handsome, and both talented with words and know my way around a farm.”
This made me laugh. “I’m not sure you’re talented with words or farms; I haven’t seen proof.”
“I notice you didn’t argue with me about being handsome.”
“Are you trying to impress my mother?”
He pushed up onto his elbows, giving me flirty eyes. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her you’re nice and—”
“No,” he said, waving me off. “I mean when she asked whether you told me about your dad.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “I lied. I said I hadn’t.”
This seemed to surprise