Page 30 of Anytime I Want

I smile, knowing he’s right. He spends most of his time with his headphones in, studying or reading a book. He can get loud and silly, but it is few and far between. He is happy to be along for the ride with Nathan and Graham, letting them shine.

“You know what? Yes. I’d like that.”

“Great. Let’s go.” Josh offers me his arm and we walk together to the auditorium. I grab a pencil out of my bag, but I hesitate.

“I know you’d be great, but you don’t have to do this. Stretching yourself is cool, but you need to take care of yourself too. Find that line,” Josh says.

I smile at him. “That’s pretty wise. Where’d you get that?”

“My mom is big into self-help books, and we listen to them in the car. I have tons of advice like that.”

I look back at the sign-up sheet, and before I write my name under auditions, I change my mind and sign Julia Pritchett under stage crew. I look at Josh and he nods, and I can see the pride in his eyes.

“Baby steps, Jules.” He nudges my shoulder and I smile at my name on the sheet.Baby steps.

***

I ring the doorbell at Graham’s house before letting myself in. Aunty Em doesn’t like to stop what she is doing to answer the door and she’s told everyone that if it makes sense for you to come over, it makes sense for you to walk on in.

“Hey, Aunty, it’s Julia. I’m here to check on Graham.”

“She’s not here.” I hear Graham say from the top of the stairs. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a sleeveless tee. His cheeks are a little flushed, and his nose is red. He is wearing his glasses and his hair’s mussed, like he ran his hands through it after getting out of bed. I don’t know why glasses were nerdy when my parents were growing up. I think they must not have understood the word hot. I’ve seen their yearbooks. Because Graham plus glasses is absolutely 100 percent dreamy. I hold up the plastic bag from the drugstore and say, “I’m here to take care of you.”

He smiles big and rushes down the stairs. Well, he tries. He rushes a few steps and then has to slow down because sicknessand stairs are not a good combination. He’s a few steps from me when indecision crosses his face.

“I don’t want to get you sick though. Maybe you should go?” he says, clearly not sold on the idea.

“It’s okay. I had a chat with the universe. You aren’t contagious.” I wink, starting toward the couch. Graham trails behind, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping himself up before settling next to me.

“So, what do you have in there?” Graham asks. “A movie? I’d love to watch a movie.”

“You think I brought a movie in a bag? What year is this, 2007? We can stream something if you want. Are you hungry? I can grab you a glass of juice—it’s mango orange apparently?—and some crackers or heat up some soup?”

“Crackers please.” I walk past him and he grabs my hand. “Thanks J. I really appreciate it.”He is so cute.I smile at him and walk towards the kitchen, letting the smile linger a while longer.

“So what are we watching?” I ask, when I get back with his snacks.

“I was thinkingPride and Prejudice.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I would offer to read to you, but my throat is a little sore so I thought this was a good pick,” Graham says apologetically.

“This is a great pick. I love this movie,” I say, gesturing to the screen where the 2005 version ofPride and Prejudiceis queued up. Graham offers me a small smile and presses play. We spend the next hour or so making small comments about the movie and laughing together. It isn’t the most extravagant date. It isn’t actually a date at all, but I am pretty sure this would be one of my favorites. Just the two of us, laughing, flirting, trying for casual touches on arms and knees, but knowing each one is super charged. Why did I fight this for so long? Nathan, Mom, and Dadhave all told me that it’s okay. I can let myself fall for Graham. It doesn’t have to mean forever, but I mean, it could be. Graham reaches over to tangle our fingers, and I feel my heart skip a beat. I know, I know, that’s so cliché, but classics are classics for a reason. I squeeze his hand and snuggle deeper into the couch, resting my head on his shoulder. He rests his head on mine and lets out a deep sigh. I can hear his slightly labored breathing from the congestion.

“This is nice,” he mumbles, half asleep. “Let’s do this all the time. Just you and me.” My stomach fills with butterflies, and I nod my head.

“Yeah, I think maybe we should.”

“Don’t worry.” His words slur. “I won’t fall asleep. I don’t want to miss any of this.”

Aunty Em gets home, peeks in at us, and leaves us to do our thing while she starts making dinner. I can tell Graham is getting tired of trying to fight sleep, so I tell him I can head home. He just scoots over on the couch and lays his head on the pillow I had on my lap.

“Please stay,” he says, his chocolate brown eyes burning into mine.

“Okay,” I agree, reaching up to move a black curl from his forehead. His eyes close at my touch, and I can feel his breathing slow. He finally falls asleep, and I jump on the opportunity to look at him. I let my eyes trace his features, admiring his long eyelashes and full lips. His glasses are slightly askew, and I slowly take them off—for his comfort, of course. Not at all because it gives me an unobstructed view. His jaw is covered in light, patchy stubble, making me wonder how often he shaves. Thinking about that made my face heat. It feels almost intimate to think about it. I bring my hands up and gently run them through his hair. It’s soft and full, and I lose myself in the butterflies and this tender moment. My gaze snags on the littlescar next to his lip. I stare at it for a while, trying to remember when he got it. I move my hand from his hair and trace the scar so lightly, I can barely feel his light stubble.

“I was visiting my grandparents and hit my mouth on a rock at the beach,” he says quietly. I jump a little, feeling embarrassed that he caught me staring. “It's okay. I don't mind. I like watching you. In a totally not creepy way. And watching you watch me? That’s a dream I didn’t know I had. You have such an expressive face. It's a window to your mind, and I love to be there.” He clears his throat, and it sets off a coughing fit. He covers his mouth and tries to sit up, using just his core. I awkwardly put my hand under his shoulders and help him sit up.

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