So Totally (9 page)

“I just wanted to say, well, thanks for everything. You haven’t asked me about my…strange family stuff…and I know it must be killing you. So thanks. If I could tell you more, you know I would.”

“I know you would. I just want you to be safe. You bring out my protective instincts for some reason. You know what we need?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Ice cream. Let’s get some, and then we need to pick out an outfit for your big night out. You naughty girl.”

Nate picked me up a block away from my grandparents’ house.

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” he said as I buckled my seatbelt.

“According to my
mother
, sneaking out is easy.”

He curled his lip and made a face as he pulled away from the curb. “I hadn’t really thought of how hard it must be to hang out with one of your parents. Does she like…ask you stuff?”

I nodded. “You mean, does she ask me about you?”

He shrugged. “Does she?”

“Yes. And the kiss at school that made the school newspaper by lunchtime too.”

He grinned. “What did you tell her about the kiss?”

Grateful for the cover of darkness to hide my famous blush, I answered, “I told her the truth. That you are infatuated with me and that you’ve already picked out the names of our children.”

“Anyone can see it’s completely the other way around. I mean, who traveled backwards two and a half decades just to meet me?”

“Who dreamed of me before he’d ever laid eyes on me?”

“Touché.”

We kept up the witty banter for the rest of the short drive. “We’re here.”

He got out and rounded the front end of the car, so I waited for him to open my door. How nice was that? I wondered if all ‘80s boys automatically did that, or I just happened upon a rare gentleman.

I placed my hand into his and felt it in my toes as soon as we made contact. He pushed the door closed behind me, and I leaned back into the side of the car, trapping myself between the steel and the boy. “What are we doing, Nate?”

He threaded the fingers of his free hand through my hair. “Daring fate, I guess. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t walk away yet—even knowing that it’s probably gonna hurt a lot.”

I closed my eyes. It already hurt.

He kissed my cheek tenderly, as if I were a treasure. “Come on, spitfire. Let’s go for a walk.”

He pulled two flashlights and handed me one.

“Wow. Always prepared. I bet you were a cute Boy Scout.”

He shone the light under his chin, lighting up his face eerily. “Baby, I was never a Boy Scout.” And then he waggled his eyebrows.

I slapped his arm. “Well, now we know where Kevin learned that stupid eyebrow move.”

He grabbed my hand and led me into the woods. And yes, I am perfectly aware that every horror movie ever made has a scene similar to this in it. And yes, I was a little worried about crazy psycho killers with butcher knives and hockey masks. Not a lot worried, but it did cross my mind.

The path to the waterfall was well-worn. The frogs and crickets sang, the dewy tall grass on either side of the trail brushed against my pants, and the moon shone on us like maybe we had ordered it special. His hand felt big and warm and I wanted to stop time and just capture this moment for a while. Pretty ironic, huh?

We passed the woods and crossed the clearing, turning off our flashlights as the moon was doing a splendid job of illuminating the Falls. Even at night, I had to admit they were breathtaking. We sat cross-legged on the big rock.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

I shook my head, but he took off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders anyway. The scent of him surrounded me, the strength in his hand permeated itself into my marrow (which if taken literally would be very very gross), and I felt myself unwinding on the inside. Rubbing my back, Nate broke the silence. “What’s your favorite food in the twenty-first century?”

“Pizza, thin-crust. You?”

“Deep-dish,” he answered.

“God, we’re doomed.”

We chuckled a little at that.

“What is your second favorite?”

“McDonald’s french fries. You?”

“Ice cream. What is your favorite movie?”

“Nate, what if you’ve never heard of my favorite movie?”

“I’m sure I’ll see it someday. What is it?”

I sighed. “
Grease
.”

“I’ve seen that, you dork. It’s from the seventies. Mine is
Star
Wars
.”

Color me not surprised. “In about thirteen years, they’ll release the second trilogy. Episodes I, II, and III. People like you and your brethren will camp out in front of theaters for days, wearing costumes, waiting for ticket sales and embarrassing their relatives.”

His spine straightened and he was on full alert. “Tell me you aren’t playing a sick game with my head.”

“The Force is no laughing matter. I’m one hundred percent on the level.”

“What is it about? Wait, no. I want to be surprised.”

He was itching for details, I could tell. But he was right—spoiler-free was the way to go these days. I still couldn’t be sure what negative reaction my actions would trigger. The best possible course for my temporary stay would be to treat the ‘80s like a campsite: take nothing out, leave nothing behind, and make sure it’s left better than the way I found it.

That probably included keeping a tight rein on my heart, though something told me it was a little late for that. I’d have to leave it behind when I left.

“What are you thinking about?” He cupped his hand under my cheek so that I looked at him. “You okay?”

“I think I should leave town.”

“What? Why?”

“We still don’t know the ramifications of me spending so much time with my mother. Or anyone, for that matter. I could accidentally give up some national security secrets to the wrong person and risk the entire twenty-first century.”

“And then there’s
this
,” he added, knowing that
this
was really what I was talking about.

“Tempting fate is a bad idea. Fate could stomp all over us and leave me a pile of emotional roadkill.”

“We don’t know that we weren’t
supposed
to meet. I did have that dream, after all.”

“Nate—”

He shushed me with his lips. They were firm and dry, not like some other less than stellar kissers I’d encountered in the past. He pulled back a little and looked into my eyes to make sure I was totally on board, I guess.

I was
so
on board.

I shifted my head to the right and he leaned farther into me. This time he took my top lip between his and my head between his hands. All my limbs turned to jelly and a host of new sensations took over—pointing south if you get my drift.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and we deepened the kiss. He coaxed me to open to him, to let the doubts and worries drop off me like leaves in the autumn—revealing me, the real me, underneath all the things I used to shield myself.

When hands began roaming—and I’m not telling you whose—we pulled back. A long moment passed as we relearned breathing solo. Coming back to Earth reminded me of the first few steps after an hour on a trampoline.

“I should get you home,” Nate said in a croaky voice that sounded like nobody either of us had ever met.

He helped me off the rock and put his arms around me, groaned once, and kissed me again as if he had no control in the matter. This time, I dug my hands in his shaggy hair and made sure I wasn’t the only one of us kissed so thoroughly that they felt exposed.

When we separated that time, I took a little pleasure in the increased intensity shining in his eyes. I did that. Me. I may have been headed for a heartbreak, but I wasn’t traveling alone.

T
HE next day, Heather and I were accosted by Kevin in the parking lot.

“Am I dead, angels? Because this must be heaven.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “You are a troll, you have always been a troll, and you will always be a troll.” To me, she said, “I’m going to leave you here to ruin your reputation alone. See you at lunch.”

Kevin called out, “Heather, is your father a baker?” She ignored him, so he got louder, “I only ask because you have such nice buns.”

I pulled his ear and dragged him across the lot. “What part of
she’s my mother
are you not understanding?”

“Ow-ow. Sorry. I forgot. Please let go of my ear.”

Behind us, I heard, “Can you maim my friends with one hand and drink your coffee with the other?”

My heart doubled in size, just like the Grinch’s, as soon as I heard Nate’s voice and, well, as soon as I saw the coffee cup he was holding.

“Hey, you.”

He smooched my forehead and dosed me with caffeine. No wonder I was gaga for him.

“So what did you two end up doing last night? Paul and I waited at the Falls until ten,” Kevin said, still rubbing his ear.

Choking on my coffee, I dribbled onto my chin. Very nice. “You were there?” How much did they see?

“Yeah, you guys never showed.”

What the?
“But—” Nate shook his head, so I cut myself off.

He was right. I didn’t need to draw a bunch of attention to our tryst. It was enough that
we
knew the legend held—the waterfalls really were enchanted because we were there past ten and never saw Kevin and Paul, and they never saw us. Either that, or they played an elaborate charade to make me think so. Which would be dumb.

And why was it that I could believe that I traveled in time to
years
before I was born, but scoffed at the idea of enchanted waterfalls?

Two blondes passed by us, causing Kevin to hyperventilate and run after them to try out some of his corny lines. Leaving me alone to dawdle slowly to class with my very much older man who just happened to be a junior in high school.

“Don’t you have any books?” Nate asked.

“I pick them up today.”

Awkward silence followed by, “How is your coffee?”

“Good, thanks.”

Awkward silence filled with sudden insecurity followed by, “Are you sorry…about last night?”

“Are you?” Oh God. Please say no.

“I asked you first.”

“If I say yes, I suppose you’ll pour my coffee all over the pavement again.” Things were not going well. “You know, I really don’t need all this drama.”

Nate raked his hands through his messy hair and I remembered exactly how silky the locks felt slipping through my fingertips. “Are you really sorry that I kissed you?” he asked.

I had two choices: follow my heart or protect my pride. “No,” I said.

“Why are you so hard to communicate with?”

Me?
“If I didn’t want this coffee so damned much, I would pour it over your head. I don’t recall you complaining about my communication skills last night.”

Swinging his arm around me, we began walking again. “How could I complain? I couldn’t speak. Your tongue was halfway down my throat, remember?”

“Oh is
that
why you had your hands on my chest? Gee, I thought you were copping a feel, but you were probably just trying to push me away, right?”

“Do you really want to talk about getting handsy, Carrington? As I recall…”

“Okay. Okay. You win.” I’m not saying I was grabby or anything. Not out loud, anyway.

We were almost to my first-period class, so we stopped and he maneuvered me against the wall. “Do you have plans for Friday night?”

“Hmmm.” I tapped my chin while I sorted out my busy social calendar. “I was thinking about trying something in the Elizabethan Era or perhaps the twenty-third century. I can never decide.”

“Friday is D&D night this week.”

Not really the exciting date invitation I had been hoping for, but pretty cute when you think about it. Okay, not really.

“Gosh. I think maybe you should keep guys’ night sacred. Paul and Kevin might start to resent me if I take up any more of your time.”

“Okay, but you’re missing out on some good times. When Paul breaks out the protractor to draw the maps, you know things are a rockin’.”

I giggled. “Speaking of Paul, did you really tell the guys to meet us last night? Or did the three of you cook that up to convince me the falls were magical?”