Page 46 of Merry Little Hate Notes

My answer was the same that night as it was at this very moment—it was all real. But this time I knew how to answer.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

HOLLY

IT WAS A SURREAL MOMENT sitting in Brandon’s car outside my house. Carmen totally ditched me for Marco, who apparently lived in a motorhome in the gym’s parking lot. It was kind of creepy if you asked me. Carmen didn’t, in fact, ask me, but I’d told her anyway. She laughed off my warning, explaining Marco was a gentle soul who only wanted to spread love and peace. I bet he did. So I snapped a picture of Marco’s den of love and peace along with his license plate, just in case. If Marco ever pulled up to the Garcias’ house in the old motorhome, Carmen’s parents, along with her abuelas, would go into cardiac arrest.

That left me with Brandon, who was more than happy to offer me a ride home. Brandon, whom I could hardly take my eyes off at the gym. Zac Efron and Josh Duhamel had nothing on him, other than perhaps being better at yoga, but I couldn’t verify that. Even if Brandon wasn’t all that flexible, he was obviously in fantastic shape. We are talking ah-mazing kind of shape. His defined muscles rippled with every pose. I admit to outright gawking when his shirt came up during every downward dog and showed off his abs and chest. His body was a wonderland.

But ... what struck me most about tonight was when our fingers accidentally touched during Savasana. Itreminded me of the night of my sixteenth birthday when our fingers had danced together. I was beginning to realize how much we’d danced around each other growing up. I still couldn’t believe he’d wanted me as much as I’d wanted him. Tonight, I started to feel the truth of it, the way his fingertips grasped for mine and the look in his eyes that said he would keep reaching for me, so please hold on.

So I did. For the ten minutes of Savasana, we kept our small connection while we gazed at each other, and he mouthed that he wasn’t going anywhere. It felt all sorts of magical.

Now here we were, parked in front of the tiny brick rambler Dad and I rented. Some of the magic had faded, and reality was sinking in. I’d been kind of dreading this moment on the ride home, not knowing what to expect. I watched as Brandon stared out the window at my life, not saying a word.

“You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

He turned his head, his brow furrowed as if confused. “Why would I feel sorry for you?”

“Because my life is nothing like it used to be, not like any of us imagined.”

“I don’t think anyone’s life ever turns out how they think it will. Despite that, you are still trying to take on the world like you always did.”

I smiled, feeling a little heated, even though it was snowing outside and I was only wearing a sports bra and yoga pants. It could have been the car’s heater, but I’m pretty sure it was the adoring look Brandon was giving me. “I’m not sure about that.”

“I am.” He reached over and tugged on a strand of my hair. “Also, I was staring at your neighbor’s house, not yours. It looks like you live next to Clark Griswold.”

I peeked out the window only to be literally blinded by the light. Every blinking blow-up snow globe and Christmas figurine you could imagine covered our sweet neighbors’ lawn. And thousands of multicolored twinkling lights adorned their house. “The Jansons take their Christmas decorations seriously. And every other holiday, too. You should see the life-size cupid they put out for Valentine’s Day.”

Brandon laughed. “Are you serious?”

“Oh yes. It’s seriously disturbing. But oddly, I’ve come to appreciate it, probably because the Jansons are great neighbors. Mrs. Janson always tells me what’s on sale at Costco each week.”

“You’ll have to inform me too, since I’ll be getting a Costco membership soon,” Brandon teased.

“You know, I don’t see you as the kind of guy who buys toilet paper and protein bars in bulk.”

“That’s just offensive for you to assume that.” He chuckled. “You think I’m some animal who keeps a paper towel roll in his bathroom because he keeps forgetting to buy toilet paper?”

I dipped my chin to my chest. “I think you have a paper towel roll in there now.”

He jokingly pretended to shove a knife in his chest. “I’m staying with my parents right now, and that behavior would appall Lauren Cassidy. But yes, I admit my place has a paper towel roll in all three bathrooms.”

I giggled. “Maybe you should get a Costco membership, then.”

He leaned toward me, his minty breath wafting my way, tempting me to take a taste. I loved peppermint, after all, and I knew just how good it tasted on Brandon’s lips. “Believe me, I plan on it. We could go now if you want to,” he rushed to say.

I supposed that meant he didn’t want the night to end yet. “Well ... the downside of Costco is they close at eight.”

“Oh,” he sounded more than disappointed.

Weirdly, I was too. It had been a long time since I’d wanted to prolong my time with a guy. Let’s be real—it had been a long time since I’d been with a guy, period. Ooh. My mouth blurted out my scary thought: “Um ... would you want to come in?” What was I doing inviting magic into the house? Chart 218 was sending out Mayday signals, trying hard to alert me that danger loomed ahead. But my heart was doing its best to intercept those signals and remind me of Brandon’s TED Talk, and of the way he looked at me during yoga. Not to mention how I felt like myself around him.

“I’d love to.” Brandon was quick to turn around, grab a hoodie from the back seat, and throw it on like I might change my mind.

I was sad to see his firm chest and bare muscular arms coveredup, but I supposed since it was snowing, it made sense for him to want to stay warm.

“My dad is home.” I thought I should let him know. Not that anything untoward was going to happen between us—even though I’d had some thoughts during yoga—but I knew it was best to take things slow. Grown-up Holly and Brandon didn’t know each other all that well. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” I added.

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