Page 9 of Part of Forever
But, that’s why pretending to be interested in him made sense logically. He is trying to make a girl jealous, and I’m trying not to fall harder than I already have for Tucker. My dad can see right through us, though. He knows this isn’t what I want, but he hasn’t said anything to me, and since Mom hasn’t asked me about it, I assume he’s kept to himself what he knows—or thinks he knows.
“Probably.” I’m grateful that my voice sounds normal now. “My mom said she’s going to make her famous chocolate cheesecake.”
Meg smiles at me, and from down the beach, one of her friends calls her name. “Awesome! I’ve got to go, I just wanted to say hi.”
“Have fun tonight,” I tell her.
“You too,” she says, glancing between the two of us again before heading off. With Meg gone, Tucker and I fall into an awkward silence again. I intentionally stare at the fire for a few minutes before I look at him. Things have been weird between us ever since I got back from Paris, and I miss how things used to be.
“Wanna dance?” I blurt, startling both of us.
“What?” he asks.
I point to the people I noticed dancing by the water when we arrived. It’s too cold to swim, but some boys pull the girls close to the water, trying to hear them squeal.
“Want to dance?” I ask breathlessly, as if I’ll lose my nerve if I don’t. “With me?”
“Won’t Shawn mind?”
I shrug. “Who’s he to tell me I can’t dance with one of my best friends? Plus, sitting here is making my mind only think about my audition which is stressing me out because I can’t change anything, and I know dancing will help, especially if it’s not the kind of dancing I normally do. Especially if it’s with you.” All the words tumble out in a rush. I need to tell him the truth about how my mom wants me to date Shawn, not me, but I can’t bring myself to say the words.
I can’t read him, even though I’m watching the light of the fire skirt across his face.
I stand up and hold out a hand. “I don’t care what he thinks. I want to dance with you.”
He looks torn for a moment before he jumps up and reaches for my hand. “Let’s do it.” He doesn’t let go as we walk across the sand, and right now, I don’t care if anyone sees.
There’s loud music from a portable speaker when we get to where the people are dancing. I laugh as Tucker throws his arms up in the air and starts jumping up and down.
The rest of the night, we’re like this; a little out of breath, touching each other too much for people who are just friends and for someone who’s supposed to like someone else. But part of me loves the thrill and fireworks of it all. I love watching his eyes light up when a song he likes starts playing, and how he keeps purposely bumping into me during fast songs and holding me close during the slow ones.
“I’m really glad we’re friends,” I say as he pulls me into him as “I’ll Be” starts playing from the speaker.
“Me too.” He breathes against me. My head settles against his chest. He’s got one hand on my lower back, the other wrapped around my hand, and I listen to his heartbeat and breathe in the salty air.
Grace finds us after that, saying it’s time to go, and we’re both quiet the whole way home. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about.
Later, after I get upstairs, I finally pull out my phone. I have three texts from Tucker. Two were from earlier in the evening, and one was from just a few minutes ago.
Tucker
We’re here.
NVM, I’ll just come in to get you.
10:35 PM
“I Belong” by Tyler Hilton
I pull up the song on Spotify and close my eyes while I listen, my heart beating wildly. The last time he sent me a song was back in May of last year. It’s been nine months, and he’s still sharing his feelings through songs. My heart nearly stops as I realize his feelings are exactly the same as they’ve always been.
And so are mine.
4
“Don’t forget,we have a math quiz on Friday, so our next class will be our review day,” Mrs. Adams says from the front of the room, switching off her overhead projector.
She’s been a teacher at the school for over thirty years, and while most teachers have adjusted their teaching methods to newer technology, Mrs. Adams, who’s probably in her mid-seventies, still uses an overhead projector. I didn’t even know what that was until I showed up to my first pre-calc class at the beginning of the school year.
