He looked up slowly from his book, as if he couldn’t break his attention away until he’d finished his sentence. And then he smiled. “Hi, Delilah.”
“Hi,” she said, shifting on her feet while she waited for an answer. Finally, she asked again, “What did you mean?”
He patted the grass next to him. “I wasn’t speaking in code. I just think you’re fun to try to puzzle out.”
“I’m the puzzle?”
“To me, you are.”
Reluctantly, she sat down and tried to force her blush back into her veins. “Why didn’t you want me to see your house yesterday?”
He considered his answer for a few breaths before admitting, “Because I know all the rumors. I guess it makes me uncomfortable to imagine you there.”
Delilah felt a heavy wave of defeat. Was it because of how the rest of the town talked? Did he think she was saying those things too? Or was it that he simply didn’t want her there, which was. . . a different thing altogether.
“I’d never talk about your house, you know,” she said.
His long thumb traced the spine of the book he’d been reading, and she shivered, imagining what it would feel like for that same finger to move up and down her spine. “I know, Delilah,” he said, but he didn’t look up.
Was this it, then? This was going to be the extent of their relationship: She stared at him for almost a solid hour her first day back at public school, followed him home, and then humiliated herself again today. She pushed up from the ground, ready to stand.
Gavin wrapped his fingers all the way around her forearm, with plenty of finger left to spare. “Don’t go yet. I still need to hear at least a couple of stories about the horrors of Catholic school.”
“‘Horrors?’” she asked, sitting back down. Nothing horrific came to mind. Only unending detentions in the corner and bored, undersexed teenage girls causing drama where there wasn’t much need for it.
“Exorcisms,” he suggested, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Abusive nuns. Haunted dorms. Give me something good, Delilah.”
She inhaled and held her breath, staring at him. He was too good to be true, saying just what she needed him to say to show her she wasn’t wrong about him. “How about the wild tangle of lesbian orgies?”
His eyes widened playfully. “I’m all ears.”
“Well, in that case you’re going to be disappointed. No abusive nuns either, or exorcisms, at least none that I witnessed. But everyone was sneaking in booze and drugs and boys.”
“Boys?” His eyebrows inched up slowly.
Delilah laughed, loving that this was the most shocking contraband. In truth, she didn’t have much experience with boys. She’d kissed a few, snuck one into her room to see what making out felt like in a bed, but never more than that.
Holding up his hands, he qualified, “No, I mean obviously boys are much less illegal than drugs, but presumably harder to sneak in?”
“Not necessarily. I mean, you would be hard to dress up as a girl and sneak inside, even in the dark. You’re about seventy feet tall. But most boys our age can pass a little easier for female.”
He snorted. “Now it’s settled. You have to go back to Catholic school just so we can see if you can sneak me in.”
“Sneak you in where?” she asked, voice low and meaningful. “My room?”
But she’d gotten carried away, forgotten herself and how new this delicate friendship was. His smile wilted slightly. “Maybe just into the building to start.”
“Sorry. I seem to always act crazy around you. I’m not usually like this. I swear.”
“What are you usually like, then?”
She considered this. “Bored. Looking for someone to ask me about exorcisms and hauntings.”
He looked past her, contemplating the school in the distance. “I’m not quite sure what to do with you, Delilah Blue. You seem intent on making me your friend.”
“Because I like you,” she said plainly.
“Still?” he asked, smile stuttering back to life.