“So,” I announce, “his name is Maximillian. Obviously.”
Levi laughs, so hard and so suddenly that he presses a hand to his stomach. “Okay, okay,” he concedes, turning onto his street, breathing hard as he tries to control his laughter. “Maximillian it is. Can I at least call him Max, if I need a break from the mouthful?”
“Well, duh. Any self-respecting Maximillian needs the nickname Max. It is the Way of Things.”
His smile never breaks, and I am happy. I adore that smile.
Levi’s house is small.
I guess I didn’t notice this factor the last two times I saw it, but now it’s obvious. Unlike the last time I was here, lights illuminate the windows, contrasting the night. I like it immediately, with its shutters and gables and white siding. It looks inviting and warm, and I’m bombarded with an image, one I’ll never, ever be able to forget: Levi and me, sharing a perfect kiss on the patio, my hands on his shoulders as he hooks his arm around my waist and dips me backward.
I stop in my tracks. I just thought about me and Levi kissing. The real Levi, the one not kissing me, is staring at me from the patio, waving me to him.
I’m frozen.
“Come on, Bee!” he calls out.
That’s what does it: His voice (and his hair) and his welcoming smile as he sweeps open the door. I pick up my pace, entering his home. A delicious smell hits me, like oranges and cookie batter and summer. It also smells like Levi. (But let’s pretend I never noticed, for the sake of my sanity.)
The front room consists of a brown leather couch and a TV mounted on the wall, as well as a bookshelf stashed with self-help, cooking, and gardening books. Around the corner I hear Paula Abdul singing away, her voice echoing in the small space. I slip off my shoes and place them beside Levi’s, put my purse by the door, and follow him inside.
Levi’s mom stands at the kitchen sink, her back to us. She’s singing with Paula, voice rising as the song’s emotions heighten. Levi clears his throat loudly, making her jump and turn, glasses askew on her face, bubbles coating her hands.
“Levi, dear.” She pauses the music by touching her elbow to the pause button on the iPad. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I wonder why,” he teases, letting her kiss his cheek. “Mom, this is…” He shrugs, pauses, and shrugs again. “I don’t know. I don’t know her name. She won’t tell me.”
I gape at him, but it quickly turns to a smile. “Oh, so you’re trying a different tactic now? The guilt trip?”
Levi’s response is to stick his tongue out at me. His mom laughs, reaching for me. Her hug is warm, her hands still soapy. She holds them away from my body so as not to get suds on my hair. “That was his favorite as a little boy, the guilt trip. He’s quite good at it actually. This young man’s charm is unreal.”
I shake my head, pretending to be exasperated. “My name is Bee. Nice to meet you.”
Her smile is just like Levi’s. “Bee, I’m Suzie. You’re welcome in my house any day.”
“This nameless creature,” Levi interrupts, “has been helping out at TCP for a couple of weeks.”
“It’s only been a few days,” I protest, but Levi’s words strike me. It feels like I’ve been a part of this for a lot longer. Like I’ve always belonged here. (I think I like this.)
“Welcome to the Project, Bee!” Suzie waves her hands in the air. “You want to stay for cookies? They’ll be done in about twenty minutes.”
“I’d love to.”
She claps. “Goodie! Levi, get our guest comfortable, maybe with some coffee or tea or juice or something, and I’ll bring the cookies to you.”
Levi salutes his mom. “Thanks, you’re the best, love you, all that mushy stuff.”
“You know you love it, Levi Brenton Orville.”
“Have fun with Paula,” he says over his shoulder, ushering me toward the back of the house. There’s a sitting room and a small hallway that leads to the bedrooms. Levi opens one of the two doors in the hall and disappears inside.
I hadn’t thought about what his room looks like, but when I see it, I know I wouldn’t have expected this. It’s nearly bare, with white walls and navy bedding and books that evenly line the baseboards of one wall. The sliding doors to the closet are closed. I stare for a second too long into the full-length mirror at my frizzy hair and reddened face. I’ve been thinking about him too long, obviously.
“What?” he asks, stirring me from my trance. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no.” I shrug. “Just…thinking.” I hope he can’t see the lie.
He reaches into his closet and pulls out an iPod and headphones. “We’re going to need these,” he says.
Once we’re in the sitting room at the back of the house, Levi stands in front of me, feet planted, unraveling the ear buds. “You’re going to listen to ‘Michicant’. I’ll be disappointed, severely, if you don’t like this song.”
I sit down on the couch. “Are you threatening me?”
“Yeah, with a life without cookies.”
“Ah!” I gasp.
His smirk is very satisfied. (I think about kissing him again.) “Here, have these.”
The song that plays into my left ear (Levi has the right ear bud) is…not exactly what I expected, but it’s not my favorite, either. I can’t see myself listening to this on a daily basis, let alone it becoming my favorite song. But I sit through the whole thing, shoulder to shoulder with Levi. His eyes are closed, and he looks so peaceful I almost don’t say anything when the song is over.
He sits up and takes the bud out of my ear. “Well?”
I smile sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders. “Well.” I clear my throat. “I really want a cookie.”
He rolls his eyes.
“But it wasn’t…terrible?”
“That’s all you’ve got?” He sighs loudly and heavily. “I suppose that’s all I can ask of you.”
“I didn’t love it, but it didn’t make me cringe like the last song I heard by them.”
“Which was?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Hmm.” His humming noise is full of disbelief.
“Here,” I say, pulling out my phone. I find my favorite Blindside song and hook up the ear buds. “You get both ears, and you have to listen to the whole thing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, laughing.
I flick his arm, then immediately pale. I touched him. On my own. Without thinking about it. Sitting back on the couch, I try to calm myself. It was just a flick, Bee. Chill. And yet, all I can hear is Gretchen’s voice, buzzing inside my brain, saying, You’re a goner, Bee. So far gone.
Mortified, I focus on the sound of Suzie and Paula’s duet with enough energy to power New York City.
When the song finishes, Levi hands me my phone, movements lethargic. His eyes are sort of glazed over. “That…was beautiful.”
“I told you.”
“But I feel incredibly slighted. Or, just…not good at this. Now I have to show you a song you’ll really love.” He wraps his headphones as he studies me. “I must think about this in depth.”