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understandable after the day she’d had, but somehow I doubted Holly would do that.
    “You have dimples,” she mumbled and her face became even more flushed than a minute ago. “I mean…I never really noticed them before.”
    “I’ve had them since birth…it’s a curse. Old ladies pinching my cheeks all the time.” And in that instant, I was suddenly desperate to know everything about her. Every tiny microscopic detail…either to make me like or her more or less, I really wasn’t sure. I plucked one of the ear buds from her ear and placed it in mine. I hit play on her i-Pod before she could stop me. “I’m dying to find out what a real Jersey girl listens to.”
    It was an old song I recognized from an episode of The Simpsons. “Janis Joplin…I guess it’s a little bit Jersey girl.”
    “Are you a fan of Bobby Magee?” she asked me, keeping her eyes on the sky above us.
    “Sure, who isn’t.” I flipped to the next song and heard a horribly drab voice start reciting pages from an old novel. “Dickens, yuck…this isn’t Jersey girl enough for you, Holly.”
    She grabbed her backpack and hit me over the head with it, but she was laughing, too. God, I love her laugh . Her whole face was bright and curious. And pretty…so pretty. My planning and thinking stopped. We were an island. Me and Holly. Completely alone in this strange moment. All I could feel were the blades of grass tickling my ear and the way her body remained perfectly still but looked as if her muscles were itching to move closer.
    My mouth was so close to her ear and the British man’s voice still played so I started reciting the book with him. It was a section I had memorized years ago for school. She was completely frozen, listening to me with such intensity.
    “Why do you have this book memorized,” she muttered so softly I barely heard her.
    “Mean, torturous English teacher in high school,” I said, then added, “Want to hear it in French?”
    “Yes,” she breathed out immediately.
    I closed my eyes and switched to a different language, which was almost easy. French sometimes flowed off my tongue more rhythmically than English and I was totally lost on this island.
    And so was she.
    After a couple minutes, I felt her fingers brush the inside of my palm. The words tumbling out caught in my throat for a split second as goose bumps spread up my arm. The very tips of her fingers moved along the inside of my hand, tracing over the lines. She was barely touching me and yet it felt like her hands were everywhere all at once.
    My mouth was so close to her cheek and if I could just feel her skin against my lips for a second—
    A shadow fell over both of us and then I heard Danny’s voice, like he was speaking from the far end of a tunnel. “Dude? Are you playing or what?”
    I jumped up from the grass, my eyes moving between Holly and my roommate. “I…uh…”
    “Got distracted?” Danny said, smirking at me.
    Holly sat up and started shoving things into her bag, obviously waking up from the same little daze I had been in.
    I slapped on my sane face and grinned at Danny. “Yeah…I was walking through here, toward the softball fields, and this chick grabbed my ankle and tackled me to the ground. I almost had to break out the mace.”
    “Right. ‘Cause that looked really violent just then,” Danny said. “And I might believe you picked up a random girl if I didn’t recognize her camp staff shirt.”
    I rolled my eyes at him and then looked at Holly. “This is my roommate, Danny. He’s not socially acceptable ever.”
    “We met,” Holly said. “At your party.”
    Oops. Forgot about that .
    “Jackson’s partially right,” Danny explained. “I have issues. Unlike Jackson.”
    And I knew he was about to overstep his boundaries and start spouting off various examples.
    I gave him a shove in the other direction. “Are we playing softball or what?” After another nudge to Danny, I called over my shoulder, “See you