Always Never Yours(48)

Which has me thinking about Will.

Yeah, Alyssa flirtatiously touched his arm and wanted to “read lines” with him—the oldest trick in the book. But it was just a week ago he was in my room telling me I’m beautiful. I’m done waiting for him to drop some hint about how he sees our relationship. I’m going to find out.

I grab my phone off my desk. u busy? I text him.

Not right now. Why? he replies.

I text him a location and, 30 min!!! And I don’t let myself worry about whether he’ll be there.



* * *





Thirty minutes later, the bell chimes on the front door of the place I told him to meet me. Will’s head of immaculately slicked hair appears in the doorway. His eyes flit over the shelves, and I signal to him with a wave from my small table in the back.

He sits down across from me, looking quizzical. I push the almond blueberry coffee cake I ordered toward him. “You want something to drink?” I ask.

He stares down at the cake, then looks up at me, lightly amused. “What’s happening here?”

I take a deep breath. “A date.” I turn one of the forks so it faces him. “Coffee cake?”

“A date,” he repeats, reaching for the fork. He doesn’t look entirely convinced.

I begin reciting the speech I prepared in my head on the drive over. “I feel like we’ve been off ever since the night we hooked up at my house. I have a tendency to rush things, but I don’t want to do that anymore. Which, I guess, means I’m not ready to have sex with you”—I pause—“yet. It’s definitely a yet.” Will smiles. Encouraged, I continue. “I like you. I want to be with you. I want to date.”

He puts down the fork. For a horrible moment, every doubt I’ve had about this plan floods my mind. He’s not interested. He likes Alyssa. I came on way too strong. He wants to have sex now. And worst of all, Owen was wrong—I don’t give up too easily. People give up on me.

Instead of saying any of those things, Will puts his hand over mine on the table. “I . . . have to tell you, I was a little intimidated when we started hooking up. Everyone knows you’re hot, and funny, and talented. It was hard to measure up to.”

I blink. I didn’t know “everyone” thought that. To the rest of the school, I thought I was just Madeleine’s flirty friend. Madeleine’s perpetually dumped friend.

Will goes on. “I didn’t know how to handle it, but I want to be with you, too, Megan,” he says with a growing smile.

Muscles I didn’t realize were tensed relax, and I feel unbelievably relieved. But I’m not done yet. It’s now or never. “Okay, then I want a straight answer,” I say. “Boyfriend?”

Will nods once, definite and unmistakable. “Boyfriend.”

“Well,” I say, beaming, “great.”

“I guess that makes this our first date. And we are . . .” He looks around the room. “Where, exactly?”

I let my eyes wander over the familiar surroundings. In the front of the shop, antique books, foreign titles, and bestsellers vie for space on wooden shelves that look on the verge of collapse. Posters of long-dead literary figures curl away from the walls over the register. A spindly staircase in the center of the room winds up to an alcove overcrowded with Shakespeare paraphernalia. The smell of what must be the strongest espresso in Oregon wafts from the coffee counter in the back, where Will and I are sitting. It’s dimly lit, dusty, and perfect.

“It’s Birnam Wood Books,” I tell him. “I first came here to annotate Macbeth for a scene workshop. I found it because of the reference. Ever since, it’s been pretty much my favorite spot.”

Will sniffs the air. “Kind of musty.”

“It’s great, isn’t it?”

He takes a bite of the coffee cake and shrugs. “It’s definitely the first time I’ve gone on a date to a bookstore. But then,” he adds, almost like an afterthought, “it’s the first time I’ve gone on a date.” It’s not as if I’m surprised, but it’s sort of endearing to hear him admit it. “How’s Romeo and Juliet going? I notice the balcony scene’s on the schedule again this week.”

“Don’t remind me.” The last rehearsal went terribly. I’m hopeless on the lines where Juliet declares her love for Romeo, no matter how much emotion Tyler puts into it or how often Jody stops us to repeat it. “Right now, I’m more focused on the Senior Showcase and the scene I’m directing,” I say.

“But that’s one scene,” Will says slowly.

“I’m directing one scene,” I quickly counter. “I’m organizing the entire showcase.”

“I just don’t get why you’d focus on that.” His tone’s light, but underneath it there’s something nearly judgmental. “Romeo and Juliet’s going to Ashland. Come on,” he says, the grin I once found dazzling losing a little of its luster, “you’re the lead in a professional-level performance. That’s way bigger than Stillmont’s Senior Showcase.”

I shrug, trying not to be annoyed that he doesn’t get it, or offended by the way he said Senior Showcase. “It’s my senior year. I’ve been a part of the showcase since I started high school. I want it to be perfect, you know?” Will nods, but his eyes remain skeptical like, no, he doesn’t know. “Besides, I’m not going to let the showcase interfere with Ashland.”