When we get to his car, I pull out my phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Just texting my mom to tell her I’m on my way.”
“Cool.” He studies his rearview mirror until he can pull out of the parking space.
Mom responds immediately: Be safe. And then a heartbeat, a moment, before another text: Thank you for checking in.
“Everything okay?” Alec asks.
“Perfect. Favorite card in the deck?”
“Ace. It can have two different meanings, depending on the game you’re playing. Favorite song?”
“ ‘Down to Zero’ by Joan Armatrading. This one line, ‘There’s more beauty in you than anyone.’ It sort of wrecks me.”
“There’s more beauty in you than anyone.”
I smile. “That’s not the way this game is played and you know it.”
“Couldn’t help it. Seizing the moment and all.”
“I might be able to find it in my heart to forgive you this once.”
“As you wish.”
Alec holds my hand as he drives and I’m left wondering if I’ll ever find the words to tell him how he’s unearthed the deepest part of my heart. Created it, really. When he turns into my driveway he pulls over at the mailbox. “I believe this is your stop.”
“Hah! You know me too well.” I pop out of the car and open the box, its creaking metal latch echoing in the dark woods. The box is empty, though I thrust my hand in to be sure. How is it possible I haven’t heard from Boston College yet? Tyler Grinnel heard from Penn. Amy Gettes was accepted by USC. Where’s my letter? But then maybe it’s wrong to want more than I have.
“Anything?” Alec asks when I duck back into his car.
“No, and I’m getting seriously frustrated.” He puts the car in gear but I steady his arm. “Not yet. I want to say bye without my mom creeping at the window.”
He returns the car to park and pops his seat belt. The heater spurts out waves of warmth. He pats the side of his seat and I move closer, inhaling the sweet smell of his skin and cologne. “I had a great day with you.”
“Me too.”
“Next time we’ll go out to dinner. I like to sample restaurants, get ideas for”—he sputters a laugh—“for the restaurant I’ll never have.”
“Don’t say never. A business degree will help you run a restaurant. That’s something, right? You can go to culinary school after. Your parents won’t have a say then. You’ll see.”
“I wish that were true.” His words clutch sadness.
“You can make it true. It’s your life, not theirs.” I snuggle closer, drape my arm over his waist.
“Maybe.”
“Not maybe. You can. I believe in you.”
Alec takes my hand in his. His one finger draws down the length of my ring finger. Then again. Even this small touch, this odd exploration, seizes my attention. “How did I get so lucky? Let me take you out Wednesday. Our own Thanksgiving, just the two of us.”
Sounds perfect. But there’s something about Wednesday. . . . “That’s the start of Alumni Weekend.”
“And that matters why?”
“It’s Sudbury tradition. The school band does a parade thing and then there’s an athletics ceremony before the football team plays our school’s biggest rival. A lot of people who graduated come back to watch.”
“And are there alumni you want to see?”
“Not particularly.”
“And you don’t love football?”
“Ah, no.”
“So then why can’t you spend the day with me?”
Why was I planning on going to the ceremony? Lizzie and I hate it every year. Literally spend the entire time talking about how much we hate it. “I guess it’s just tradition.”
He bites lightly at my bottom lip, his breath mixing with mine. “Make a new tradition with me.”
His words echo Mom’s. And I want new with Alec. But . . . “I promised Lizzie I’d go.”
“Sure, but if you’re with me we can do a little of this.” His hands glide under my shirt. His lips press along my neck.
“Yeah?” My breath is too faint.
“Yeah.”
Yes. Yes. “Okay.”
He leans his forehead against mine. “Good. Boston College may not have made up its mind, but I can’t get enough of you. You’re mine Wednesday. No friends, no school. Just the two of us. I promise I’ll make it special. You’ll forget all about Alumni Weekend.”
I already have.
He puts the car in gear and we slowly drive toward my house. When I get inside, the air is so still I can hear the hoot of a barn owl outside the kitchen window. I grab an orange and pad to my room, calling, “Mom! I’m home!” There’s no response. I flash forward to next year, returning to my dorm room after a party, no parents to check in with. The intoxicating freedom makes me want Alec with me at Boston College more than ever.