Harry nearly melted when Sammie rubbed her thumb along his palm. Holding her hand was the softest, warmest, safest, sexiest feeling ever. He would never tire of it. Seemed the Beatles actually got something right. Who knew?
Hand in hand, they walked across the school parking lot.
“Oh, your dad has a Mini. How cute,” Sammie said.
Dad and cute? Really?
One good thing about Dad doing pickup—unlike Mom, he never got out of the car. Mom was always the only parent on the porch at pickup, and the only parent who drove for every field trip, and the only parent who volunteered for every school event. At the science fair, one of the little kids had actually mistaken her for staff. When she was back in charge of, well, everything, maybe he should grow a pair and finally set some boundaries. Ask her to wait in the car at pickup, like Dad.
Dad appeared to be asleep. Not surprising, given how hard he’d worked on the party. At this point, Harry just wanted it to be whatever Dad wanted it to be. Maybe they should have canceled. He and Sammie could have gone to the movies instead and held hands in the back row.
Harry knocked on the window. Dad shot up like Max had when Mr. George caught him napping in calculus earlier that day. “Are we boring you?” Mr. George had asked, and Harry had willed Max not to say yes. Thankfully, the psychic vibes must have worked, because Max had apologized. Seriously un-Max-like behavior.
“Dad, Dad.” Harry knocked again, louder.
Dad opened the driver’s side door. “Once would have been enough, Harry. I have a headache. No need to rap as though attempting to wake the dead.”
Dad’s eyes bored into Sammie. “The car is unlocked, you know. And since I’m not officially a chauffeur, I don’t need to open the door for you.”
Sammie squeezed his hand tight.
Be nice, Dad. Please, be nice.
“Sammie can’t get a ride this evening sooo can she come home with us?” Harry knew he was talking fast, but Dad had to say yes, and he had to like Sammie. That last bit was super important. Dad didn’t like surprises, and this was so totally off script, but he had to like Sammie.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fitzwilliam,” Sammie said. So sweetly.
That had to thaw even Dad’s heart. Don’t screw this up for me, Dad. Please.
“I can help set up,” Sammie said.
“I’ve done everything.” Couldn’t Dad fake it, just for once pretend to be the laid-back, “whatever, dude” parent?
“Oh.” Sammie blushed.
“I’m assuming that’s a yes?” Harry said with a mega dose of bravado.
“Do I have a choice?”
Harry sighed. “I need you to do this. For me.”
Dad sighed, too. Two sighing guys in the school parking lot while the most beautiful girl in the world watched.
“Fine, yes.” Dad turned on the engine. “Nice to meet you, too, Sammie.”
“You’ll get used to my dad. He can be blunt.”
“You don’t have to talk about me as if I’m not here, Harry.” Dad gave him that look, the one that made Harry feel as if he were the size of a flea and even further down the list of life-forms. “What time did you say people were coming?”
They’d had this conversation. Several times. Why was Dad checking?
Harry opened the rear passenger door and let Sammie scramble inside, then joined her. No way was he sitting in the front while she was stuck in the back with Dad glaring at her in the rearview mirror.
“Six. Six sharp.” Harry smiled. At least, he tried. Best get all the news out at once and be done with it. “And Josh’s dad has a problem picking him up tomorrow. He asked if we could give him a lift home.”
Dad angled his head and turned away. “No.”
“Dad—”
“I said no, Harry.”
“Not even if you dropped him off on the way to the hospital?”
“Are you arguing with me?”
Really? Really! Dad had to pull this shit in front of Sammie?
“No. It’s fine. I’ll tell him to ask one of the other guys.” Harry looked at his lap. And Sammie reached over and wove her fingers through his. He knew Dad was watching. He knew, but he didn’t care. Sammie Owen, the most beautiful girl in the school, was holding his hand.