We can do this, Max and me.
When the food’s gone and the kitchen’s clean, he and I sneak up to his room. Clothes and sports equipment are strewn about, his bed is unmade, and there are school papers littering his desk. The space smells clean, though, like him. He closes the door, locking it, I notice, then peers at me like a lion stalking a tasty zebra. “Come here,” he says, holding out a hand.
I step forward, slipping my hand into his. I laugh when a mental picture flashes in my mind: a zebra, eager and naive, trotting into the trap of a hungry lion.
“What’s funny?” he asks.
“Nothing. This is just … weird.”
He loops my arms around his neck, then clasps his hands at the small of my back. “It’s good, though, right?”
I lift up on my toes to kiss him. “Very good.”
He walks me backward until we reach the futon under his window. We sit, intertwined.
“How long can you stay?” he asks.
“Not long. I have to work, remember?”
“I don’t want you to go. How’s that for weird?”
What’s really weird is that I get what he’s saying. I’ve lived within fifty yards of him for more than half my life, yet suddenly it seems like we never have enough time together. “Trust me. I’d rather stay here.”
“Ask Kyle to cover your shift.”
“The two of us are supposed to close together.”
“So I won’t see you till tomorrow?”
I tense. I haven’t given much thought to tomorrow. To school.
It’s clear he knows me well when he says, “Jill, who gives a shit? People are gonna find out.”
“An hour ago you were fine with keeping things low-key.”
“Yeah, then I sat through breakfast feeling like I couldn’t touch you. It sucked.”
“That’s just it. Your sister saw us consume a meal together, and she couldn’t have been snottier about it.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“What about Becky?” Becky, who belittles me as often as possible. Becky, who didn’t give a second thought to smacking into me on the quad. Becky, who hates me because she believes I stole her boyfriend. “If you think she’s not going to assume it’s my fault you guys broke up, you’re deluded.”
“Like I’ll stand by and let her give you shit.”
But what if you’re not standing by? I want to ask, suffering the phantom ache of her shoulder check. “You have no idea how terrible girls can be when they feel like they’ve been wronged,” I say. “Let’s just play it cool, okay? I can’t have another thing to worry about. Not right now.”
He rests his cheek on top of my head. “What else are you worried about?”
I stall, then stammer, “Things at home are … not great.” I’m uncomfortable talking about this, even with Max, and besides, the friction that is life under the Eldridge roof isn’t exactly new-relationship fodder. “I’m trying to get back to a good place with my dad, but he doesn’t understand you. He can’t let go of Halloween, or Bunco, or the night Officer Tate found beer in your truck.”
Max pulls away, sitting upright. “Oh, hell. That’s all in the past.”
“I know, but it’ll be a while before he comes around. If he finds out about us now, he’ll be pissed and I just … can’t. For now, can you and me just be you and me?”
His expression softens. He slides his hand under my hair, along the back of my neck, pulling me toward him until my forehead rests against his. “Jilly,” he breathes, “I don’t like secrets, but more than anything … I just wanna be with you.”
“Ditto,” I whisper.
*
When I swing the door to True Brew open, the shop is empty but for an elderly couple sipping coffee at a corner table. When I make my way behind the counter, Kyle looks up from the espresso machine, where he’s vigilantly wiping down the grates. He stops whistling—“Whistle While You Work,” naturally—and his expression morphs from friendly to suspicious. “Jelly Bean, what are you looking so cute for?”
I glance down at my clothing: my True Brew T-shirt and my work-only, coffee-stained jeans. “Are you kidding?”
He rolls his eyes. “Not your clothes.” He studies me as I tie on my apron. “Is that eyeliner you’re wearing?”
I stick my tongue out. “So what if it is?”
“I’d just like to know why, is all.”
“Maybe because I had breakfast at the Holdens’.”
His eyes light up. “And?”
“And … Max and I are good.”
“I sense you’re watering things down.”
I can’t help a little smile. “We talked yesterday. A lot. And this morning.”
“I bet you talked.” He tugs on my ponytail, messing it up.
“Kyle, stop!” I dart away, catching a glimpse of the ancient couple at their corner table. They’re craning their necks to see over the counter—oh, the mischief their baristas are making!
I pull the elastic from my hair, comb my fingers through, and gather it back up. “You better chill, buddy. You’re going to get us fired.”
“Nah. I know the owners. And don’t try to distract me. Max and you…?”
I busy myself topping off milk pitchers. “Are friends again.”
Kyle cocks his head, his skepticism flagrant. “You’re not telling me everything.”
Max and me … We’re so new, so fragile. I’m hesitant to share with anyone—even Kyle—for fear of popping our iridescent bubble. “I’m telling you what you need to know.”
He stares at me for a long moment, then turns away to fill a cup with drip coffee. Handing it to me, he says, “You like him. It’s written all over your face—thirsty eyes and kissy lips, puppy love in all its glory. I mean, keep your secrets if you must, but know that I know exactly what you’re feeling.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. We spent the better part of the morning making out. Is that what you want to hear?”
He laughs, gleeful. “That’s exactly what I want to hear!”
“But listen—not everyone will be as delighted as you, so keep quiet, okay?”
“Please. You and Max? It’ll be old news before you know it.”
“Not as far as my dad’s concerned. He’ll see red if he finds out. Becky will, too.”
“So, what…? You guys are gonna be all covert? Max is cool with that?”
I shrug, refilling the grinder with espresso beans. “I’m not sure I’d use the word ‘cool.’”
“Jill,” Kyle says, sidling up to me. “Please tell me you’re not complicating things. If you think your dad’ll be pissed now, just imagine how furious he’ll be if he finds out you’ve been hiding this guy he didn’t want you to go out with in the first place.”
“I’ll tell him. I just need time, is all.”
He shakes his head. “Jelly Bean knows best, I guess.”
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