I spin around to find Cricket Bell sitting in my kitchen, and for some reason, the sight of him makes me slightly breathless, too. “I—I didn’t know you were there.”
Cricket stands, almost knocking over his chair in a rare moment of clumsiness. “I was having some tea. Your parents are loading the car. They were giving you three more minutes.” He glances at his watch. “You had thirty seconds left.”
“Oh.”
“It was good entrance,” he says.
Nathan bursts into the room. “There you are! With twenty seconds to spare.” He wraps me in a hug, but quickly pulls away and looks me up and down. “I thought you understood we were going into nature today.”
“Ha ha.”
“A dress? Those boots? Don’t you think you should change into something less—”
“It’s not worth the fight.” Andy pops in his head. “Come on. Let’s go.”
I follow him outside to avoid further chastising from Nathan. Cricket walks several steps behind me. It’s a careful distance.
I wonder if he’s looking at my butt.
WHY DID I JUST THINK THAT? Now my butt feels COLOSSAL. Maybe he’s looking at my legs. Is that better? Or worse? Do I want him looking at me? I hold on to the bottom of my dress as I climb into the backseat and crawl to the other side. I’m sure he’s looking at my butt. He has to be. It’s huge, and it’s right there, and it’s huge.
No. I’m acting crazy.
I glance over, and he smiles at me as he buckles his seat belt. My cheeks grow warm.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
As always, he chats easily with my parents. The more relaxed everyone else gets, the more worked up I am. We’re already approaching the Golden Gate Bridge, so we’ve been driving for . . . fifteen minutes? How can that be?
“Lola, you’re awfully quiet,” Nathan says. “Do you feel okay?”
“Is it motion sickness?” Andy asks. “Because you haven’t had that in years.”
“WE AREN’T EVEN OUT OF THE CITY. IT’S NOT MOTION SICKNESS.”
There’s a shocked silence.
“Maybe it’s motion sickness,” I lie. “Sorry. I have ... a headache, too.” I cannot believe I’m screaming about motion sickness a foot away from Cricket Bell.
Deep breaths. Take deep breaths. I adjust my dress, but the fabric sticks to my leg, and I accidentally flash Cricket my thigh. This time, I catch him looking. His fingers are messing with his bracelets and rubber bands. Our eyes lock.
A rubber band snaps and shoots into the windshield.
Nathan’s and Andy’s heads jolt back in fright, but they laugh when they realize what happened.
Cricket’s body shrinks up in his seat. “Sorry! Sorry.”
And I’m strangely relieved to know that I’m not the only one freaking out.
chapter thirteen
It’s been years since I’ve been here, but Muir Woods still makes me feel as if I’ve stepped into a fairy tale. It’s an enchanted forest, I’m sure of it. Amid the trees are devilish wood sprites and red mushroom caps with white spots and faeries tempting mortals with golden fruit. The redwoods have the same soothing effect on me as the moon. They seem as old as the moon. Ancient and beautiful and wise.
And I need that right now.
The remainder of the drive was restless, but at least it passed quickly. The park is only forty minutes from home. After strolling the trail for a while, we split up. Nathan and Andy, Cricket and me. We’ll meet back at the car in a few hours, and because it’s not Max, my parents don’t ask me to check in with them. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear they’re trying to set me up.
Wait. Are my parents trying to set me up?
No, they know I have a boyfriend. And Nathan hates the idea of me dating anyone. They must see Cricket as the trustworthy friend he is. Right?
“Is it okay if I eat this in front of you?” Cricket sounds hesitant.
We’re sitting beside the creek that runs through the park, half of the picnic spread before us. He holds up the sandwich Andy made for him. It’s smoked salmon with cream cheese and sliced avocado.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
He points at my hummus wrap. “You’re still a vegetarian, right?”
“Oh. Yeah. But it doesn’t bother me to see other people eating meat, I just can’t stomach the thought for myself.” I pause. “Thanks for asking. Most people don’t ask.”
Cricket turns toward the bubbling creek and stretches out his legs. His pants are well-worn, faded pinstripes and frayed hems. It’s appropriate for the outdoors as far as his wardrobe is concerned, and once again, I find myself admiring his sense of style.