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me.
    “It’s not hard to crack at all,” I said. “I can tell you what it means right now.”
    “Oh,” Nate said, looking a little crestfallen. He’d probably hoped that we could have found the key to the code together. This had become Nate’s idea of fun.
    “And it’s not even that complicated,” I said. “It’s an alphanumeric cipher.” I paused for a moment after saying that, not quite able to believe that Nate had gotten me using this terminology. “So each number stands for the number of letters in the word that they’re saying to each other.”
    “Ah,” Nate said, tucking that one lock of hair that always seemed to escape (the hazards of growing out your bangs) behind my ear. “Impressive. I wasn’t sure you’d been listening.”
    “Always,” I said, smiling at him. I had leaned forward for a kiss when Nate continued.
    “So what are they saying?” he asked.
    “Oh,” I said, leaning back. “They’re saying—” I stopped short when I realized what I’d be saying to him when I told him the meaning of this code. I’d be saying “I love you.” Even though I’d just be explaining something to him, translating for someone else, I would still be saying those three words to Nate.
    I could feel my pulse quicken as I tried to figure out how to handle this. I didn’t want the first time I said these words to him not to be real. “Well,” I said, my face getting hot. “Like I said, the code is the number of letters in each word. So
one
stands for
I
. And
three
stands for
you
. And so,
four
stands for …” I trailed off, hoping he would figure out the missing word without me having to tell him. After a moment, comprehension dawned and I thought I saw his own cheeks redden slightly.
    “Ah,” Nate said. “Gotcha.” We both ate in silence for a minute before Nate put his pancake container down and turned to me. “But why the code?” he asked. “I mean, I’ve heard Dave and Lisa say that to each other. I’ve heard them yell it to each other across vast distances.”
    I smiled. It was true; even though there had been a lot of drama about saying it to begin with, Dave and Lisa were now not at all shy about telling each other—and anyone else in hearing distance—how they felt. “Lisa came up with it,” I said with a shrug. “I guess sometimes it’s nice to have something that’s just between you.” This was, I realized, probably the reason I liked the Bluff so much. “Something that’s private.”
    “I can see that,” Nate said. He leaned close to me, gave me a quick kiss, traced his finger down my cheek, then looked at me for a long moment.
    I could feel my heart begin to beat quickly. Was this it? Was Nate going to say 1-4-3 to me? Did that mean—OMG, did that mean that
he
loved
me
?
    My pulse was racing, and I looked into his eyes, searching his expression for a clue. I held my breath, myheart hammering, wondering if it was going to happen. Nate took a breath, looking right into my eyes. But at that very second, the music playing from Nate’s stereo switched to something with thrashing guitars and a fairly tone-deaf singer who nonetheless sang very loudly. Nate looked over at the stereo and then back at me, smiling. I smiled back and tried not to let the disappointment I was feeling show on my face.
    Nate pulled out his phone and checked the time, frowning (I knew that’s what he was doing, since at the Bluff, our cell phones were reduced to being very expensive clocks).
    “Time to go?” I asked, feeling my heart sink. Nate no longer had a curfew, so whenever we had to cut our makeout sessions short, it was because of me. And even though my father wasn’t really aware of what I was doing, I knew that when he was home—and hungry, if the stove continued to baffle him—I couldn’t push the curfew thing too far.
    “Time to go,” he confirmed, and we put our takeout containers in the white paper diner bag. We were always really careful about cleaning up after ourselves