“I did.” Anika smiled, eating the last of the fun-size Snickers bars she always pilfered when she came over and squeezing closer to him on the couch. They were cuddled up in the basement-slash-entertainment room, a comfy, ugly space with wood paneling, faded posters, a discolored rug that had somehow survived his dad’s college dorm, and a huge flat-screen TV. It was the only place that had escaped his mom’s meticulous decorating, holding none of the charm of the rooms upstairs, and yet it was Gael’s favorite.
“I mean, you may have overhyped it a tad,” Anika continued, pursing her lips. “But I’d expect nothing less.” She smiled, and Gael allowed himself to take her in: her dark glossy hair pinned into thick braids around the crown of her head—looking like some kind of badass milkmaid; her wide-open eyes that grew two sizes bigger when she was being funny or making a point; her tiny, unassuming mouth. She was a perfect, beautiful girl, who was also offbeat enough to love this movie (almost) as much as he did.
The word love stuck in Gael’s mind like a peanut butter sandwich to the roof of his mouth. So delicious and at the same time so uncomfortable. (Or so I’m told. From my position in the world, I don’t exactly get to indulge in many PB&Js.)
It was September 18, one month to the day since they’d first kissed, something he would have made a big deal of, except Anika had gone on and on about how annoying it was when her best friend, Jenna, kept them posted on her relationship length just about every week.
He knew a month was fast to say it. And yet it felt so natural, so right.
Gael held her tighter as Anika nuzzled into his chest. Her body felt warm and soft against his. He and his family had spent countless hours watching movies on this ratty basement couch, but since his dad had moved out, he’d been watching them almost exclusively in his room. With Anika, it somehow felt okay to be down here again. There would always be the pang of what used to be, but now there was at least the promise of what could be, too.
Gael ran his hand over her braids as his eyes flitted to the clock on the Blu-ray player. It was past 9:30, and her curfew was ten on weekdays. Anika wasn’t exactly the type to care much about curfew, but Gael was the type to want to show her parents how much he respected their rules.
Anika looked up at him mischievously. “Not exactly the most romantic movie.” She smirked. “Though I suppose more romantic than the Battlestar Galactica marathon I imposed on you last week.” She didn’t drop her gaze. “I guess we’ll just have to make up for it.”
Anika ran her hands through his hair, her fingertips on his scalp making him shiver, and then pulled his lips to meet hers. Her kisses were fast and insistent, and in seconds, she was on his lap, straddling him on the couch.
Gael pulled away. “Hold on.” Those pivotal three words burned in the back of his throat, where they’d been lodged for the past few days. Anika had already told him she had to study tomorrow night and wouldn’t be able to come over, which meant that if he didn’t say them soon, he’d have to wait another forty-eight hours.
And for a Romantic1 like Gael, that was an unbearably long time.
Anika gave him a playful peck of a kiss. “Why? I promise I’m not a maniacal seagull in disguise.” She kissed him again, then raised an eyebrow. “Or am I?”
Gael laughed, then rested his hands on her hips and tried to ignore the urgency in his pants. Anika’s face was flushed. She looked so startlingly beautiful, he knew that he couldn’t not say it now.
“I wanted to tell you something,” he said.
“That you’re a maniacal seagull in disguise? I’m cool with it.” She pulled him back toward her, clearly uninterested in talking.
He kissed her for a second and then pulled back again.
He felt like he was going to throw up, but in the best possible way. He felt a tingling in the tips of his fingers. He felt that he could do this right, even if his parents couldn’t. He wondered how long it had been since he’d blinked. He knew it was now or never. (I, for one, prepared for what I knew would, inevitably, follow.)
“I just wanted to say that I love you.”
I caught the flash of panic as it started across Anika’s face, and I sent a strong gust of wind whipping through the tiny basement window. It tickled the edges of a Pokémon poster tacked precariously over the couch with years-old Scotch tape. In an instant, the poster fell on top of them.
Gael batted the poster away. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Anika said quickly.
As I’d hoped, Anika took advantage of the interruption to compose her face. The panic was gone.
It was only then that Gael realized she hadn’t said it back.
“No pressure to reciprocate or whatever. I know it’s only been a month . . . it’s just that, well, I felt I had to say it.”
Anika nodded.
“You’re not super weirded out, are you?” Gael stared at the tattered poster on the couch beside them, Pikachu’s frenzied, cheerful eyes gazing back. He forced himself to stop biting the inside of his cheek and picked at his thumbnail instead.
Anika hesitated an agonizing moment, but then she grabbed his chin, tilted his face back to hers.
“No.” She kissed him long and deep. When she broke away, she was smiling again. “I’ll see you this weekend, okay?”
Gael swore he saw hints of love in her eyes.