Forever for a Year(68)
He laughed. Laughed!
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because I thought you were tired of doing sex stuff with me.”
“I’m not!” I said, even though I had been. But now I wanted it more than I ever had before. Like I needed him. Gosh. Gosh. Gosh.
“I’m glad. But I still want to wait today.”
“Why are you being so different? Do you not find me attractive anymore?”
“Carolina … you’re the sexiest girl in the universe.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said. Why was I acting so pathetic now? BECAUSE MY BOYFRIEND DIDN’T WANT TO HOOK UP WITH ME!
“Carolina … I’ve … been … excited almost the entire day with you.”
“Down there?”
“Yep.”
“Even though we weren’t making out?”
“Yep.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Does that make me strange?”
“No,” I said. “That makes me feel good.”
“Really?” he said.
“Yeah. Does that make me weird?”
“No. I like it. So much. But I should go. My mom is waiting.”
“Oh … okay,” I said, then Trevor kissed me and went back to his car.
*
When I got to my room, I missed Trevor so much. I wished I were with him so much. I wished we were naked in his basement. I wished I could make him feel good so he’d know how much I loved him. So … gosh … I put on my new dress, and I, uh, pulled the single strap over my shoulder and I hiked the skirt up so it was almost to my underwear. And then …
I took a picture in the mirror.
OH MY GOSH. I said I would never do this. You read about this stuff in the news. You read about this STUPID girl who took sexy pictures and sent them to a boy and then those pictures got sent around and everyone calls her a slut and her life is over and she has to move or something. But I ignored EVERY SMART PART OF MY BRAIN and texted Trevor the picture. I just had to. I just had to make him happy. Would that make him happy? I don’t even know and I sent it anyway. And then I waited and Trevor texted me:
TREVOR
You are the sexiest girl to ever walk the earth.
And for one second I hated myself. Hated myself that I sent the picture. But also hated that I loved his compliment so much. Why can’t girls just be strong and smart and successful? Why do we have to be sexy too? But we do. Or I do. I want to be sexy. I hate that I do. But I do. And I loved that Trevor made me want to be sexy for him. Again. Or more. Or in a new way.
54
Trevor goes to dinner
My special train ride date into Chicago had worked. Really worked. Carolina sent me a sexy picture. She made me promise not to show anyone, which she didn’t need to ask because I’d literally rather cut off my hand than show anyone a sexy picture of Carolina. Why would I want other boys to know how sexy she is? Then they would want her and I would have competition. Maybe not. But either way, no way would I show anyone. I would never betray her like that. Ever.
The next couple weeks, Carolina would text me fun stuff like “thinking of being naked with you” and “wish we were in your basement right now.” She even sent me a few more pictures. Never of any actual naked private parts. You know, boobs or butt or anything. But what she sent was better. It made me have to imagine what I couldn’t see. Made me think of her all the time. Made me think I’d be happy the rest of my life as long as Carolina was my girl.
*
The following weekend she said we should have a dinner with our parents. When she brought it up, the skin on my face sucked back all at once. Like it wanted to peel away from her even though my actual brain didn’t think it was such a bad idea. Yeah, a couple months ago, it would have been the crappiest idea ever. No way would I want to expose her parents to my mom’s nuttiness. But my mom had been awesome the past month. She had been a real mom. Better than a real mom. She had given me insights and truths that I bet no other mom would ever give. Because she wanted to treat me with respect. I loved it. I loved her again, maybe. I never stopped loving her. I guess I trusted her again, which is more important than love because it has to be earned.
So that’s why I said yes. Yes, we could have our parents all meet. Carolina was so excited, it got me excited.
“Should we tell them we’re engaged?” she yelped out.
“Yes.”
“I’m serious!”
“Me too.”
“You’re not serious, Trevor,” she said.
“You’re not either,” I said.
“But someday I will be.”
Then I said something my old self would have f*cking shot myself for saying: “Someday I’ll spend the rest of my life with you, Carolina.” She did that “awww” thing girls do and then leaped into my arms.
*
On the Friday before Christmas, my parents, Lily, and I met Carolina and her parents at an Italian restaurant called Pontarelli’s in town. My dad said the Fishers should choose the restaurant. He didn’t say why, but I knew: my dad didn’t want to choose a restaurant Carolina’s parents might find expensive.
We got to the restaurant first. I was too stressed out not to force my family to arrive early. But the Fishers were ten minutes late. As we waited, I started obsessing about my mom seeing Carolina’s dad for the first time since high school. What if they had been in love? What if they’d had sex? Would it be awkward? Crap. What if they fell back in love at first sight and tore apart our families and then Carolina and I would feel responsible, and … Screw it, I wasn’t going to think about it.