Virtually in Love (14 page)

Kaz nodded. “Actually, we thought about beginning our romantic adventures with the marathon, but that doesn't really seem like a dating thing.”

Vanessa giggled. “Besides, I'm afraid of your real girlfriend, Shani,” she told Kaz.

“I don't blame you.” He grinned. “I'm a little afraid of her myself. She already texted me on her mom's phone to say her entire family wants to pay to dance with me tomorrow.”

I laughed along with my friends at that, but I still couldn't quite shake the strange feeling of knowing they'd been making plans without me. Was that what it would be like now that they were trying out this couple thing? Somehow I hadn't really thought about that part. What would happen once Trevor went back home—would I turn into a third wheel in their new relationship?

The thought was disturbing, but I decided not to worry about it. At least now I could talk guilt-free about Trevor in front of Kaz.

“Okay,” I said as a waitress flung several menus at us on her way past the booth. “Let's pick our food, and then I'll tell you all about Trevor.”

•  •  •

I leaned forward, peering out the car window as my dad pulled to the curb in front of the movie theater. The place was always busy on Saturday evenings, and there were tons of people milling around.

“Is your friend here?” Dad asked, idling the engine.

“I don't see him yet,” I lied. Actually, I'd spotted Trevor right away. He was leaning against the wall nearby, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Looking impossibly cute, of course. “I'm sure he'll be here soon.”

The last thing I wanted was for Dad to decide he wanted to get out and say hi. He tends to act like he's the world's funniest stand-up comedian when he talks to my friends, which is cute when his victims are Vanessa and Kaz. But I didn't want to spend half our date explaining his goofiness to Trevor.

Speaking of Vanessa and Kaz, I was still kind of freaked out by their big announcement. Sure, it had been all my idea for them to get together. Now that it was happening, though, I was going to have to adjust.

Fortunately, I had Trevor to distract me in the meantime. I couldn't wait to see him again.

“Okay. Call me if you need a ride home later,” Dad said.

“Will do.” I opened the car door and grabbed my purse. “But I'm sure Trevor's cousin is going to drop me off. They have to go practically right past our house on their way back. Thanks for the ride here, though.”

“Welcome. Have fun.”

With a little wave, I shut the car door and waited until he drove off. Then I turned and hurried toward Trevor, who was staring at a movie poster and hadn't seen me yet.

I called his name when I got closer, and he turned and smiled at me. Whoa, swoon—I went a little weak in the knees. But somehow I managed to stay on my feet and make it over to him.

“Hi,” he said. “I was starting to worry you wouldn't get here in time. I got us tickets to the show that starts in, like, five minutes.”

“Oh cool.” I was touched he was being such a gentleman about buying my ticket, though I was a little surprised he hadn't asked which movie I wanted to see. What if he'd chosen something I'd already seen?

Luckily, though, he hadn't. In fact, I'd barely heard of the movie he'd chosen. It was a subtitled foreign film—not exactly my usual type of thing.

Not that I was opposed to a little culture. Especially when it came with a side dish of Trevor.

“Great, thanks.” I took the ticket he handed me, shivering as our fingers touched briefly. “Should we go in?”

Okay, so maybe culture is overrated. The movie started out kind of dull and went downhill from there. At least excitement-wise.

But I didn't really mind. Because about half an hour in, Trevor started shifting in his seat beside me. For a second I thought he was about to get up to go to the bathroom or buy more popcorn or something. But then I felt his hand touch mine—and wrap itself around my fingers.

I practically hyperventilated when I realized what was happening. Holding hands, I thought, little pinwheels of happiness bursting in my brain.
We're totally holding hands! I wish Vanessa could see this . . . .

But I didn't waste much time thinking about my friend. Instead I focused on the feel of Trevor's hand in mine. It was warm, his skin soft except for some funny little callouses on the ends of his fingers I quickly realized must come from playing guitar. I rubbed one of the callouses with my own finger, and he turned and smiled at me in the darkness.

I smiled back and held my breath, knowing what usually came next in these situations. Oh, not from firsthand experience or anything—like I've mentioned, this whole boyfriend-dating thing was all new to me. But I'd seen enough movies and TV shows to wonder—was he going to kiss me?

I leaned in a little closer, hoping my breath was okay, and closed my eyes. Then I waited . . . and waited. I squeezed his hand to let him know I was ready. He squeezed back, but still nothing happened.

Finally I cracked one eye open. Trevor was still holding my hand, but he'd turned away again to stare at the screen.

Oops. Kind of a bummer, but I tried not to worry about it. Maybe this was just Trevor being a gentleman again. Maybe holding hands was enough—at least for now.

•  •  •

“Want another bite?” Trevor speared half a ravioli and held it out to me.

“Thanks.” I smiled and then leaned forward so he could pop it into my mouth.

The movie had ended almost an hour ago, and dinner was going well. Really well. We hadn't stopped talking since we'd left the theater, pretty much. It was great! We'd discussed the movie, reminisced some more about camp, chatted about our current favorite songs and stuff, and now we were talking about Trevor's band.

I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and then took a sip of my iced tea. “So what were you saying about the bass player?” I asked.

He laughed. “Oh right. I was just saying it's so obvious the poor guy has a massive crush on Zoe.”

Right. Come to think of it, he'd been talking about Zoe kind of a lot so far. Maybe that was natural, since she was new. But I'll admit it: It was starting to bug me a little.

“So the bass player,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Think he'll hook up with her?”

“Hope not.” Shaking his head, he picked up his water glass. “I mean, she's hot and all, but we don't need some kind of Yoko situation messing things up just when we're really getting somewhere, you know?”

“Yoko?” I said blankly, trying not to focus on the word
hot
.

“Yoko Ono?” He shrugged. “Most people think she's the one who broke up the Beatles.”

“Oh.” The Beatles were more Kaz's territory than mine. I was about to say so when I heard someone calling my name.

“Chloe! Hey!” it came again.

I looked up in surprise. Maya was hurrying toward our table, Tank lumbering along behind her.

“Hi, guys,” I said, taking in Maya's cute skirt and heels and Tank's tie, which barely seemed to make it around his massive neck. “Date night, huh?”

“Yeah. You too?” Maya was gazing curiously at Trevor.

“Wait.” Tank scratched his broad chin, looking confused. “I thought you were going out with Kaz now, Chloe?”

I froze, shooting Maya a panicky glance. She poked Tank in his beefy bicep. “No, I told you, they're not going to the dance together after all.” She shot Trevor her charming cheerleader smile. “You must be the future rock star we've heard so much about.”

“Oh, right, sorry.” I was feeling flustered, but I did my best to recover. “Trevor O'Brien, this is Maya Aratani, and that's Tank Riggs.”

“Yo.” Tank still looked a little confused. “What's up, man?”

“Not much.” Trevor stood and shook Tank's hand. The effect was like watching a mouse shake hands with an elephant, which should have amused me. But I was too worried about what Trevor might be thinking. It was hard to tell, since his smile looked as cool and relaxed as always.

“Well, we should let you two get back to your date,” Maya said. “Come on, Tank. The hostess is waiting for us.” They both said good-bye and wandered off to their own table.

I glanced at Trevor. “About that,” I said. “Um, you're probably wondering what they were talking about with the whole dance thing, right? Sorry, I should have told you about what happened. I mean, if we're going to have a—a thing together, we shouldn't have any secrets, right? The thing is, Kaz asked me to the dance.”

“Kaz?” Trevor echoed with a slight frown.

“Yeah. But it was before we knew you were coming, and I probably wasn't going to say yes anyway,” I hurried on.

“Probably?” The frown was a little deeper. “Look, Chloe. If there's someone you like around here, I don't have to—”

“No!” I blurted out, desperate to make him understand. To not ruin this super-romantic first date. “We're just friends. Kaz and I, that is. I mean, I've known the guy since we were in diapers—he's like a brother to me!”

“Wait.” Trevor's expression cleared. “Kaz? Is that the guy you've told me about—the geeky band dork you're always hanging around with?”

Now it was my turn to frown. “I wouldn't describe him that way,” I said. “But that's him, yeah.”

“Sorry—no offense.” Trevor held up both hands, palms out, and grinned sheepishly. “It's just that for a second there, I thought we were talking about, you know, another guy. Not just a friend.”

I narrowed my eyes, not sure I liked the way he'd said the word
friend
. With an odd little grin, as if there were something wrong with Kaz, somehow.

“Um . . .,” I began.

I guess he could tell I was getting annoyed, because he leaned across the table and took my hand. “I'm sorry, Chloe,” he said softly, gazing at me, his green eyes glowing with sincerity. “I'm an idiot. It's just that I was picturing a different kind of guy when that big dude was talking, you know?” With one last squeeze, he dropped my hand and sat back, picking up his fork. “One more like, well, me, I guess. I mean, Kaz just doesn't sound like the type of guy I'd hang out with or whatever, so I wasn't picturing him with—Well, anyway, sorry. Are we cool?”

I took a deep breath, telling myself not to be stupid and overreact. Trevor had no idea how defensive I was of my friends. We were just getting to know each other again, still feeling each other out, which meant there were bound to be misunderstandings.

Besides, I was sure Kaz would think I was crazy to freak out over Trevor's comments. What had he said, anyway? That Kaz was a geek? Kaz himself wore the label proudly.

“Sure, we're cool.” I sipped my water, eyeing Trevor over the rim of the glass. As I set it down, I smiled. “Anyway, you'll change your mind about Kaz once you get to know him. Everyone loves him. I mean, you're both music lovers, right?”

“Sure.” Trevor speared another ravioli.

That reminded me . . . . “Maybe you can hang out with him some at the marathon tomorrow,” I continued. “Did you find out yet if you can come?”

“It's tomorrow?”

“Uh-huh. Starts at noon, but I'll there helping with the final setup stuff from around ten thirty or so.” I maintained my pleasant smile, trying not to look impatient with his question, even though I'd already told him the answer half a dozen times.

He shrugged. “That should work,” he said. “Text me the directions, and I'll see if Jon'll drop me off.”

“Really?” I was so thrilled that I almost knocked over my iced tea. “Awesome! We'll have a blast, I promise.”

“Cool.” He smiled at me over his water glass. “So anyway, what were we talking about before your friends stopped by?”

“The band,” I said with a smile. “And how you guys are just about to hit it big if there's no Yoko action . . .”

The rest of the dinner was amazing. We clicked so well, it felt like our tenth date instead of our first. Well, except it was super-romantic, like first dates are supposed to be. I could have sat there forever over our cooling plates of pasta. Unfortunately, Jon texted before we could even think about ordering dessert, telling Trevor he'd be there to get us soon.

Oh well. At least I could look forward to hanging out with Trevor all day at the marathon. He paid for dinner, which was sweet, and then we headed outside.

Jon pulled up less than five minutes later. I was sort of hoping Trevor and I would both sit in the backseat so we could hold hands again on the way back into town. Unfortunately, that thought didn't seem to occur to Trevor, since he headed for the front passenger side. With a shrug, I reached for the door behind him.

“Wait,” Jon said, twisting around and frowning at me when I slid into the backseat. “Am I supposed to drive you somewhere too?”

“Oh, sorry.” Trevor shot me an apologetic look. “Um, can you drop off Chloe at her house when we go back through town?”

“It's right on the way.” I shot Jon my most winning smile as I told him my address.

Jon didn't look thrilled, but he shrugged. “Whatever.”

We didn't talk much on the short drive to town, mostly because Jon was blaring some terrible rap station on the radio. When he stopped in front of my house, I reached for the door.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, raising my voice to be heard above the music.

“Wait.” Trevor opened his door and jumped back to help me finish opening mine. Then he held out his hand with a smile. “Walk you to the door?”

“Hurry up, Prince Charming!” Jon shouted from the driver's seat. “I don't have all night.”

Trevor ignored him, squeezing my hand. I squeezed back, smiling up at him. “Thanks,” I said.

We headed up the front walk, hand in hand. It felt perfect—like a line from the song. When we reached the porch, we paused in front of the door and kind of looked at each other. The porch light was full of dead bugs, which I normally thought was totally gross. But tonight I was glad of it, since it made the light dim and weirdly romantic, at least if I didn't think too much about it.