My smile turns to a grin. “Okay.”
Gretchen, still on speaker, sighs heavily and says, “Levi, please tell me your hair is as glorious in real life as Bee makes it out to be.”
I stop. I freeze and squeak and oh my goodness Levi is looking at me, confused.
“What?” he asks. “What about my hair?”
Gretchen snorts. “Bee obsesses over your hair. She thinks it was made from gold when the gods fashioned it on Mount Olympus.”
“Bee likes my hair?” Levi sounds incredulous.
I want to dig my own grave right about…five minutes ago. “Gretchen, can you just talk about normal things, please?”
Gretchen laughs so loud it’s like she’s laughing into a microphone. “You miss me, Bee. Admit it.”
I’m a little sullen, about to reply that yes, I miss her very much thank you, but Levi gets there first. “Billie misses you all the time. It’s like the plague.”
“Billie?” Gretchen asks. “Is that a new nickname?”
Sudden terror grips me. “NO,” I say, too loud and too fast. “Levi’s trying to guess my name, but SHH GRETCHEN PLEASE DON’T TELL HIM!”
Levi grabs the phone from me, looking so suddenly vexed that I’m worried he’ll burst a blood vessel. “She knows? Gretchen, you know her name?!”
“Of course I know her name, I’m her best friend.” Gretchen sniffs.
“Gretchen, tell me,” Levi begs.
I gasp. “Gretchen Taylor McKenzie, if you betray me I will…do something horrible to you.”
Gretchen grunts. “I won’t betray you, Bee, just calm down. I just…can’t believe you haven’t told him.”
Levi pouts at me but speaks to Gretchen. “I’m her boyfriend now. I deserve to know.”
“One day, Levi, you’ll be promoted to Bearer of the Name.” Gretchen laughs. “It won’t be half as awful as you think.”
Levi thinks this is hilarious.
When the phone call is over, I lie next to Levi with his arm beneath my head and my arm slung over his stomach. I play with the seam of his shirt, feeling the soft fabric between my thumb and forefinger, my head nestled into the crook of his shoulder.
This is so new. So raw. I feel like I’m opening up, piece by piece. Showing myself to the world. And it’s all Levi’s fault.
So I let him hold me, in this new way that feels like he’s drawing me out. He’s searching, reaching; I’m the one he wants. His finger—just a single, soft finger—runs up and down my arm. I resist the urge to shiver and lean into his touch, but it’s a losing battle. He laughs, quiet like a breath, and pulls me in tighter. It’s like he’s trying not to break the moment, same as me, and I thank him silently for it.
Of course, this is the exact moment that a blast of music from the Into the Woods musical hits my ears. We sit still, waiting for it to pass, but then it gets louder and closer. Astrid suddenly bursts into my room, iPod in hand, the song playing at full volume. She sings along with it, waving her hands in the air as she interprets the lyrics with her own dance. Levi sticks his leg out, trying to trip her, but she just flashes him a venomous look and keeps on dancing.
Astrid’s out of breath when the song comes to a clashing end. She bows like a performer and squeaks out, “We’re watching Into the Woods tonight after dinner if you want to join us.” Then she skitters out of the room and slams the door behind her. (I hear my mom yell, “Don’t shut the doors so hard! They’re too old for your abuse, Astrid!”) Levi huffs out a long-held breath. “Was Astrid talking to me or you?”
I love that he doesn’t comment on Astrid’s ridiculous performance. “Um, both, I think.”
“Well. We’d better join the party, then.”
I feel a giggle escape my mouth. (I did not endorse the giggle, but that’s the way these things work, apparently. The boyfriend and the giggles are a package deal.) “You’re very nice to put up with her.”
“Astrid’s crazy, dude. I want to be just like her when I grow up.”
I wiggle out of his arms, pulling him up with me, but when he makes a move for the door, I stop him. This time, I’m the one who leans in close. He holds my arm just below the elbow, my own hand resting on his stomach. When he turns his head, just an inch, I plant a kiss right on the hollow of his cheek, my nose against his cheekbone, and feel the caged butterflies in my stomach flap their wild wings in the beautiful agony of our close proximity.
Chapter 26
Levi sits beside me at the dinner table that night. Millicent sits on his other side, batting her eyelashes. “Hi, Levi,” she says.
He pats her head. “What’s up, Millie?”
“Oh, nothing.” She giggles, observing, “You’re here a lot.”
(How dare she? Those are my giggles.) I roll my eyes and point to her plate. “Millie, just eat your food.”
“Of course I’m here a lot,” Levi says, ignoring me. But he squeezes my hand under the table as he leans close to Millie, whispering a little too loud, “I reeeeeeally like your sister.”
She makes a face, like pure disgust and discomfort, but not without a sprinkle of jealousy. “That’s disgusting.”
Levi nods. “Very.”
Dinner progresses as usual (with loud singing and arguing), and when my sisters get up to put the food away and the dishes in the sink, Levi turns to me in his chair. “Bee,” he says, and then stops. “You have something. On your face.”
I sit up straight. “Where on my face?”
“On the right side of your lip.” Levi smiles.
I wipe my lips with a napkin. “Better?”
“You missed it.”
“Levi, you’re not—”
He leans in…and kisses the spot. It’s more on my cheek, really, but it’s close enough to my lips that my breath hitches and I close my eyes in response.
“—helping,” I finish, when he leans away.
“Got it,” he says.
Then I realize something. My parents are across the able, glancing at us, slightly embarrassed (but apparently not enough to leave). They hurriedly look away, pretending they’ve been talking this whole time.
I know, for a fact, they have not. In my absolute mortification, I whisper, “My mother! My father!” I can’t get the words out right; I don’t know what I’m trying to say.
“What? They love me.” Levi shrugs.
“I know, but—”
“No, I mean, your dad likes me,” he says, quietly, standing up and pulling me with him. Only I can hear him because my parents aren’t paying attention to us now. (Thank God.) “But your mom loves me. Have you heard her talk about how gorgeous I am?”
My nervous giggle sounds incredibly high-pitched. My mom has talked about how gorgeous she thinks Levi is, numerous times, but I had no idea Levi heard her. “Yes. Yes I have.”
“Oh, come on,” he teases. “You’re not embarrassed, are you?”
“Me? Never!” I return, rolling my eyes, but I’m lying. I’m totally embarrassed.
“Well, good, because I’m not either. I think your mom has good taste.”
“Thank you, Levi,” my mom pipes in, because of course she heard him. OF COURSE SHE DID. And she kisses his cheek for effect as she passes.