This Is What Happy Looks Like(37)

“You know what’s at stake here, and yet you deliberately go behind my back—”

“We were just eating dinner,” she said, raising her hands in exasperation. “And the reason I made him come here is so we wouldn’t get caught by any photographers in town. So it’s not like I’m—”

“If you don’t think they’ll find out anyway, if you don’t think everyone will know in about two seconds, then you’re even more out of your league than I thought.” Mom put two fingers to her temple like she had a terrible headache, and then let out a slow breath. “I mean, do you even know this guy, Ellie?”

“Yes,” Ellie said, her voice low and fierce. “I know him. I do.”

Mom shook her head as if she hadn’t heard. “He’s a movie star, for god’s sake. He lives in California. He’s going to be out of here in just a few weeks. How can you possibly think this is worth it?”

Ellie just stood there, letting the words wash over her. The air seemed to have gone out of the room, and even Bagel held perfectly still. But the question wasn’t a difficult one; what her mother didn’t understand was that Graham wasn’t some summer adventure, and he wasn’t a fling. The reasons he was worth it had nothing to do with the reasons that so many girls pored over his pictures in the magazines.

It was much simpler than that. It was that he’d been happy to eat stale tortilla chips at her house tonight. And that he’d sketched her an entire city when she’d asked. It was the way he joked around, and the look behind his eyes when they met hers. It was all the hundreds of e-mails he’d sent her, the words they’d traded back and forth like precious currency for so many months.

It was that he already seemed to know her better than almost anyone, and it had been just a single day since they’d finally met in person. And if that was the case, then imagine what a few more days might bring.

Mom was still looking at her, waiting for an answer, but Ellie didn’t bother. Instead, she spun around and headed for the door.

“Ellie,” Mom called, but she didn’t sound angry, just weary and confused. And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because Ellie was already picking up speed, hurrying out the door and down the driveway, where the back of Graham’s white shirt was still glowing in the surrounding darkness.

When he kissed her, it was like the answer to the question.

It was the only thing she needed to know.

“I’m sorry,” she’d whispered again, once they broke apart. He still had his hands on her shoulders, and he was gripping them like he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go.

“It’s okay,” Graham said, glancing over at the lit windows of the kitchen. “But I should probably…”

Ellie nodded, and he leaned down to kiss her once more. She imagined there were thousands of girls who wanted to kiss Graham Larkin, who had imagined this very moment, but standing here in the darkened driveway, it wasn’t like something out of a movie. It was better.

“Come find me tomorrow, okay?” he said, starting to walk away.

“Good luck with your scene,” she said, and when he smiled, her heart lurched.

Afterward, when she’d stepped back inside the house, edging into the kitchen with a sheepish look, it was to discover that Mom had already gone upstairs. And so the argument simply dangled there, unfinished until this morning, when they were now forced to deal with it over their typically peaceful pancake breakfast.

“Look,” Mom began, sliding a plate onto the table in front of Ellie, and then sitting down in the chair beside her. She leaned forward, and a strand of auburn hair slipped out of her ponytail. “Maybe it’s unfair of me to judge without knowing the whole story.”

Ellie reached for the bottle of syrup. “We’ve been e-mailing,” she said without looking up. “For months now.”

“How?” Mom asked. “I mean, how did you—”

“It was a mistake,” she explained. “A mistyped e-mail address. He was trying to write someone else, but it came to me instead, and we just started talking. I didn’t know it was him. Graham Larkin, I mean. I thought it was just some guy.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Mom said. “I suppose we’ll save the lecture on Internet safety for another day…”

“Mom,” Ellie said with a groan.

She held up her hands. “I’m only saying that there are a lot of crazy people out there…”

“Mom,” Ellie said again. “That’s not the point.”

“Okay, okay. Then what’s the point?”

Ellie lifted her eyes. “The point is…” she said, then trailed off, taking a deep breath. “The point is that I’m glad I didn’t know who it was, you know? Otherwise I never would’ve gotten to know him. Not really. Not like I do now.”

Mom nodded. “And you like him.”

“I do,” Ellie said, her voice suddenly thick. “A lot.”

On the griddle, the second batch of pancakes began to burn, and Mom rose from the table, then stood there long after she’d flipped them, her back to Ellie, her head tipped to the window above the sink.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said eventually, turning around. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”