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positive energy into the universe
and hoping it comes back something better.”
    “You’re not like other girls, Cally.”
    She rolls her eyes. “You say that like it’s
a good thing.”
    “It’s so refreshing. You have no idea.” I
slide a hand into her hair and kiss her again. This time, I linger.
Our lips brush, our tongues rub, and before I know it, she’s on her
back and I’m on my side, pulling her body close to mine and
resisting the instinct to slide my thigh between her legs.
    She keeps her eyes closed for a long time
after I draw back, and I’m struck for the thousandth time by how
beautiful she is. Dark hair. Pale skin. Rosy lips. “I should get
home,” she whispers.
    I nod, but I stay there looking at her for a
few more beats. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t seem uncomfortable
sitting in the silence.
    When walk back to her house, I take her the
long way, through town, knowing everyone will see us and talk.
Wanting them to.
     
    ***
    Cally
     
    Three weeks and six amazing dates, and
William Bailey doesn’t seem bored with me yet.
    The gossip mill isn’t giving up on us
entirely. There’s all sorts of speculation as to why a guy like
William would spend so much time with a girl like me. But the worst
of it has died down. Apparently, the possibility of us having sex
in the bleachers isn’t nearly as juicy if we’re actually
dating.
    He showed up to my house tonight and asked
my dad if he could take me on a walk. It was the sweetest thing,
though my dad looked a little puzzled by it. We find ourselves down
by the river again, the early spring breeze ruffling our hair, the
sun loosing its grip on the edge of the horizon.
    “This is my favorite time of day,” Will
whispers.
    I lean against him and sigh. “Sunset?”
    “No.” He reaches over and slides a hand into
my hair. “The part where I’m next to you.” Then he brings his mouth
down to mine and kisses me softly.
    I live for these kisses. These happy moments
between the craziness at home, the demands of the girls, and the
stress of school.
    “You are beautiful. You know that?”
    “Hmm,” I say. “I’m not sure. Tell me
again?”
    “You.” He presses a kiss to the corner of my
mouth. “Are.” Another kiss right under my earlobe. “Gorgeous.” His
hand slides up my side until his thumb is brushing the underside of
my breast.
    That light touch feels so good, and I arch
into it, even as my brain screams it’s time to pull away. He lowers
his mouth to mine and kisses me until I’m breathless. My body wants
more, but I’m terrified of what it will mean if we go further. I
need to know I’m enough. To know I’m not my mother.
    “I’m sorry,” I whisper, pulling back. “I
can’t.”
    He leans his forehead against mine and
closes his eyes. He’s breathing heavily, and I like that I can do
that to him. I like it too much.
    When he pulls back and looks at me, he says,
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry.”
    “I’m not ready.”
    “You don’t need to be ready for anything. I
just got a little carried away.”
    “It’s not that I didn’t like it. It’s just…”
I draw in a shaky breath and force a smile. “I liked it a lot. I
like kissing you, but that’s all we can do, and I’d understand if
that meant you didn’t want to date me.”
    He stiffens and turns toward the river,
resting his forearms on his knees. “Not all guys are shallow jerks
who only care about the physical stuff.”
    “I don’t think that of you at all,” I
protest. “But I want to be fair to you.”
    “Then give me a chance,” he says, turning to
me. “Be my girl, Cally. I don’t want there to be any confusion
about what we are to each other.”
    My stomach flips at the idea, and I can’t
figure out what I could have done to deserve someone like him. “Did
you miss the memo?”
    The breeze floats by, and I can smell him.
Boy soap and aftershave. It’s a scent I could snuggle into and
drift away on.
    “What memo?” he