I shiver, grinning as you lead me to the outdoor amphitheater.
There’s a nearly full moon tonight and it bathes the campus in silvery light. Without all the students and general chaos, the school becomes mysterious, magical even. I feel like I could be directing a scene from Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’d put you in the amphitheater downstage right, where the moonlight’s the brightest. You tug me toward it.
“Okay, stay right there,” you say, letting go of me.
You walk deeper into the amphitheater and pull your guitar from a dark corner—the acoustic you named Rosa.
If I were directing us, I’d have me scoot farther downstage so that my back isn’t facing the audience. Cue soft lighting—cream and blue on you and me with the rest of the stage staying dark. This is so good it should be on Broadway.
Gavin and Grace stare at each other across the stage. She crosses her arms, hugs herself, suddenly shy. He smiles as he moves closer.
GAVIN
(strums guitar, singing, a wailing acoustic vocalization similar to Jack White):
White walls
Black heart
My mind breaking
itself apart
Crumpled paper
Dark blue ink
Words from her heart
That bring me from the brink
The edge of sanity
The losing season
Gotta love you, honey
Don’t need no reason
Soft kisses
Warm hands
She’s putting me
Back together again
Her words are glue
She gets me through
Her eyes inspire
Reignite my fire
Soft kisses
Warm hands
She’s putting me
Back together again
So tell me, baby
Tell me true
Do I make you feel
Brand-new too?
Take my hand
Let’s do this now
Be together
I don’t care how
The edge of sanity
The losing season
Gotta love you, honey
Don’t need no reason
The edge of sanity
The losing season
Gotta love you, honey
Don’t need no reason
Don’t need no reason
GAVIN
(Stops playing. He takes the last few steps across the stage, sets his guitar on the ground, then falls to his knees): Grace. Be my girlfriend.
Grace starts crying and Gavin stands, picking her up. He spins and she leans her head back, laughing.
GAVIN
(whispers against her lips):
Tell me this was worth the risk of getting caught.
She tilts back his fedora and presses her lips against his.
GRACE:
It was worth the risk.
UNIDENTIFIED VOICE:
Hey!
GAVIN:
Fuck.
He sets Grace down and they run hand in hand off the stage as a security guard shines his flashlight on them. They race through campus, past the library and the cafeteria. When they reach Gavin’s car, Grace lies on the hood, laughing.
*
SO WE ARE officially together.
I’m not over the moon, I’m on the moon. It’s surreal, this happiness. I’m scared the universe will notice and take you away from me. Because it isn’t fair, how good I feel.
I have no idea the sacrifices that are ahead of me. I’m so clueless, Gavin. So fucking clueless.
“Hey,” you murmur, “I gotta ask you something.”
We’re sitting in your car—it’s only been a couple hours since you sang your song to me, but the sky is already getting light. I’ll need to go soon.
I kiss your nose. “Okay.”
“Now that we’re together, I think we should share, like, what we’ve done with other people.”
It takes me a minute to figure out what you’re saying.
“You mean … physical stuff?”
You nod. “We should just get it out of the way, you know?”
We’re each in our own seats, lying on our sides, hands intertwined across the parking brake.
“I don’t know, Gav.…”
Your grip tightens. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve done that much … right?”
I can hear the slight tinge of panic in your voice. I shake my head.
“No, not really.”
“Okay, then, so…” When I don’t say anything, you sit up a little. “I want us to be able to tell each other everything. You know?”
I think about my mom and The Giant, about all the secrets they have; all of The Giant’s don’t-tell-your-mom’s and Mom’s what-Roy-doesn’t-know-won’t-hurt-him’s. I don’t want to be like them. Ever.
“It’s no big deal,” you say. You hold up my hand and kiss it. “I’ll go first.”
You tell me about Summer. How you did everything but have sex. I’m shocked that you’re a virgin. I never would have guessed.
“Why didn’t you?” I ask. “Have sex, I mean?”
You play with your keys, eyes on them.
“She’s religious. And … it just never felt right.” Your eyes slide to mine. “So…”
I take a breath and tell you about the three boys I’ve kissed. About the older boy whose hands I let under my shirt, down my pants, way back in eighth grade.
You go pale. “Did you … do anything to him?”
This beautiful, perfect night is suddenly ruined. I can see the war inside you. It plays across your eyes. You’re wondering if you actually want to be with me. Maybe you’ll dump me before first period. That’s only four hours from now.
“Yes,” I whisper.
I tell you how I’d never seen a penis before, how I’d held it in my hand. Look what you do to me, the older boy had said.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” you mutter.
“Gav. He’s, like, far away.”
“How do you know?” you ask. “Do you guys keep in touch?”
“No. God, no. It was a summer fling. Camp.” I reach out and squeeze your hand. “It was a long time ago. Forever ago.”
I suddenly feel guilty, like I cheated on you. You won’t look at me and you feel miles away, like what I’d done with those guys has put up a wall between us. I feel dirty, ruined. I wonder if you think I’m a slut. Without warning, I burst into tears.
You glance at me, stricken. “Grace! Oh my god, I’m sorry. Shhhh.” You pull me over to you so that I’m sitting in your lap. “Don’t cry, baby,” you whisper. “All this shit’s over now. It’s just me and you. That’s all that matters.”
“But I can tell how grossed out you are by me,” I sob.
“Grossed out?”
“Because, like, I’ve done stuff with other guys.”
You smooth back my hair. “I’m not grossed out. I’m angry. And not at you. I just hate the thought of anyone but me touching you like that.”
I look up and you gently kiss me, soft and sweet. When you pull away, you lean your forehead against mine and you say the words that seal my fate for the next year: “God, I love you.”
My mouth opens and a soft gasp escapes my lips. “Don’t say it if you don’t … I mean, you don’t have to make me feel better.”
“Grace. I. Love. You. Got it?”
Your ice-blue eyes are dark with feeling, tears brimming. In this light, you’re all charcoal lines and velvet shadows. Something inside me breaks open and the words fall out.
“I love you, too.” I smile. “I mean, duh.”
That’s how the worst year of my life starts—in a Mustang with steamed-up windows, with a beautiful boy who cries.