“Oh God,” I whispered, breathing hard, unclenching my fingers. “Oh my God, Evan…”
“Goddamn, you taste so good,” he groaned. Shoulders heaving, he rested his forehead against my stomach, spent, as if I were the one who’d turned him inside out.
“The things you say…” I whispered. “Jesus, Evan, how did you learn to do that?”
He shook his head, his breath uneven, his face flushed and smiling wide. He moved away from the wall to run his hands up and down my thighs. “I just did what I thought you’d like. Did you like it?”
“You know I did. Mind reader.”
Evan hauled me off the edge with a splash, and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel his erection straining against his boxers.
“Pay no attention to that,” he said, laughing sheepishly. “Comes with the territory.”
“Yeah, well… Do you want me to take care of it? I mean, it’s only fair. I owe you—”
“No.” His smile faded. “I didn’t do it so I could get something in exchange. You don’t owe me anything. That’s not how this works.”
“How what works?” I asked in a small voice.
“Us.”
“This is us?” I felt shy, unsure and completely exposed. Even more than when he had his face between my legs.
“Yes, Jo,” Evan said. “This is us.”
I felt something break open in me. I wanted to cry. I laughed instead and threw my arms around his neck, driving us both under the water. I kissed him, tasted both myself and his own sweetness on my lips before the chlorine water washed it away.
The hallways were lined with colorful streamers. Posters with balloons pinned to every corner screamed the date and time of Island Dreams, Wilson High’s senior prom.
The prom committee had set up a folding table and a lockbox to sell tickets between classes. June Taylor, president of the prom committee and Annie Jackson, captain of the cheerleading team, chatted and laughed at the table, exchanging cash for “passports to island paradise.”
“Looks like a Party City threw up in here,” I muttered. I looked up at Evan beside me. “You ready?”
“I’m afraid when the big night comes they’ll dump a bucket of pig’s blood on me.”
“If they do, I’ll burn this place to the ground.”
Evan laughed, thinking I was kidding, but I wasn’t. I took his hand and laced my fingers with his, gave it a squeeze. “Let’s do this.”
Annie and June gaped as we walked up to the table hand-in-hand.
“Two passports to paradise,” Evan said with a chuckle at the silly theme. He glanced down at me with a suggestive look and muttered under his breath. “They got the paradise part right.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes as a flush crept up my neck.
“Um…sure.” Annie took out a certificate and I watched with smug satisfaction as she wrote out Evan Salinger and Josephine Clark. She handed it over, staring at Evan. Instead of walking hunched over, bracing himself for derision, he now carried himself at full height. His confidence was gorgeous. And those prom committee girls knew it.
June unabashedly gawked at my boyfriend. “Seventy-five dollars, please.”
My smug smile collapsed. I watched Evan pull out his beat-up old wallet and hand over the money. Money he’d need after graduation, so he could escape Planerville. He paid for the tickets with a grin and wink but I suddenly felt sick.
“I should pay you for my half,” I said when we turned away from the table, leaving June and Annie to whisper behind our backs.
Evan frowned. “Why? I got this.”
“No, I know. It just…seems like a lot.”
The last thing I wanted to do was make him self-conscious about something he was obviously proud to do. I vowed I’d make it up some other way.
Because he needs that money. Because he’s leaving. Evan is leaving…
The bell rang and Evan kissed my cheek. “You’re worth it. Every penny and more.”
After second bell, Marnie and Adam cornered me around my locker.
I glanced at them sideways. “Something on your mind?”
“You could say that.” Marnie crossed her arms. “You and Evan Salinger.”
Adam chimed in. “June Taylor is blabbing to everyone how you guys bought prom tickets this morning. Prom tickets. Since when are you and Evan this much of a thing?”
“Since none of your business,” I said a little more sharply than I’d intended. “And I’ve got a great idea for an editorial for the next Mo Vay Goo: the hypocrisy of the lower social strata of high school. You can call it ‘Punching Down.’”
“Yeah, okay girl, we get it,” Adam said. “We were bitches about associating with Evan. But we’ve come in peace and with like, a million questions.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry, I don’t kiss and tell. No matter what Matt King might say.”
Marnie’s kohl-lined eyes widened. “Oh my god, did you kiss Evan Salinger? What’s it like? Was it totally weird?”