Page 40 of Something in Between

“I don’t think that,” he says. “And my sixth-grade field trip was to Sacramento.” He tries not to smile.

“Whatever.”

Royce glances over at Carrie and her crew, who have stopped on the steps now and are pretending not to stare at us. “Is that why you’re mad at me all of a sudden?” he asks quietly. “Because I know them?”

I shake my head, even though he’s got it on the nose.

“I can’t help who I am,” he says. “Or who my family is. Who my dad is. Or who I’ve grown up around.”

I know. I know that, just like I can’t help who I am and who my family is—or isn’t—but I don’t tell him that.

Last night, we didn’t do anything more than kiss and talk...and talk and kiss...okay...a whole lotof kissing. I’m not upset about that—it’s more that I know I’m nothing to him and won’tbeanything to him. I’m just some girl he met during another boring event in D.C. He’s probably been with so many girls.

“Carrie Mayberry said you’re a player,” I blurt. And to be honest, wasn’t that what I thought too? Even before Carrie said it? When I looked on his Facebook page?

“She said what?” he says.

I start to walk away, but he catches my arm. “Are you serious? Are you really going to judge me based on somethingCarrie Mayberrytold you about me? Even after last night?’

“What about last night?” I snap.

He looks around, his hand still on my arm. We’re practically alone, save for a few tourists. The award group has left the monument and is milling around the bottom of the steps. He stares at me. “You didn’t think...” He can’t seem to finish a sentence.

My cheeks are so hot, I feel like smoke is coming off them. Is he really going to say it to my face? That it was nothing to him? That it didn’t mean anything? Maybe he’s right and I’m overreacting. We just kissed after all.

“Nothing,” he says, clearly irritated. “Forget it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I shake his hand off.

Now it’s his turn to look angry. “No, you don’t know anything. If you didn’t think last night was amazing, then there’s nothing I can do to change your mind. I feel like I’ve known you all my life even if we just met. I’ve never told a girl I’m dyslexic, or that I used to have so many tutors everyone called me names and made me feel stupid. I’ve never been with anyone who didn’t care who my father was, or wasn’t using me to get to him.”

I’m staring at him. My head is spinning. “Royce...”

His hands are in fists by his side. “But for all I know you have a boyfriend back home, andyou’rethe one who’s playing me.”

I’m so shocked I can’t respond for a moment. “You’re worried aboutme?”

“Why not? You’re beautiful, smart, funny,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You think I’m beautiful?” I whisper in disbelief.

He blushes. “I think you’re incredibly beautiful,” he says, his voice low and husky like last night.

I don’t have low self-esteem and I know I’m pretty, but no boy has ever told me I’m beautiful. It’s so romantic, I almost swoon.

“You must have a dozen guys trying to date you, if you don’t have someone already. So yeah, I’m worried about you,” he says defensively.

“Well, you shouldn’t be. I have no one but you.” I don’t mean to sound like a loser, but I also don’t want him to think I just kiss every guy I meet at a party.

“Really?” he asks, raising his eyebrows, and his eyes are lighting up again.

“Yeah.” I’m softening. God, he is a sweetheart.

“So you ‘have me,’ do you?” A small smile begins to form on his lips. I want to touch them again, the way I did last night, when I traced them with the tips of my fingers. So I do. My fingers flutter and he reaches for my hand, holds it in his and presses it to his lips. “I can’t stop thinking about last night,” he says when he releases it and puts his arms around me.

“I can’t either,” I say.

“I couldn’t wait to see you,” he murmurs. I can smell him, that earthy, masculine scent underneath the sharp clean smell of soap and aftershave. I want to breathe it in forever. And this time, it’s my turn to pull him close. I pull him by his lapels so that he has to lean down.

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