Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss(61)

Twenty-Nine


We sat on that bench for a while. The breeze coming in off the ocean was starting to make it cold. We’d outlasted the surfers and our cell phone batteries when Donavan said, “Should we head back?”

“Do we have to?” I wasn’t sure what time it was without my cell phone, but going by the sun, it was probably late afternoon. I wasn’t exactly an expert on telling the time from the position of the sun though.

“Your dad is probably worried.”

“He won’t be expecting me until ten o’clock tonight.”

“Well, my mom probably started worrying the second the attendance line called saying I missed school today.”

“I’m sorry about that again.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty.” He stood, my legs sliding off his lap as he did. “Let’s at least move to the car. You’re shivering. I have a phone charger in my backpack. I can see how in trouble I am.” He held out his hand for me.

I took it, letting him help me to my feet. He could charge his cell phone; I really didn’t want to charge mine. I was done on set for the day, so I had nobody looking for me.

He kept hold of my hand as we walked to the car. “You still want me to drive?”

“Will you?”

“For sure.” He opened the door for me, and I slid in. Then he climbed in on the driver’s side and started the car, turning on the heat. He connected his phone. He put his finger up as if telling me to hold on, then reached into his bag again and pulled out a hoodie. He passed it across the center console to me. “It might smell like paper or dry-erase marker or something, but it’s warm.”

I had my own hoodie in the back, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I pulled it on. It didn’t smell like anything but Donavan. A smell I didn’t realize I knew until that moment.

He tried to turn on his phone, but it didn’t have enough battery power to do that.

“We can go,” I said.

“Do you . . . ?” He paused, hesitating for a moment. “I mean, what if we just went back to my house? If you don’t want to go home yet, I mean.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good.”

I looked at the ocean as he pulled out of the parking lot. I felt tired. I leaned my head up against the window and watched the world outside pass by in a colorful blur. He must’ve known I was past talking, because it was a silent car ride. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but eventually my eyes drifted closed.

When I woke up, everything was still. It took me a minute to reorient myself and another minute to realize I had woken up because Donavan’s hand was gently shaking my shoulder. “Hey,” he said. “We’re here.”

I lifted my head, my neck screaming in protest at the weird angle it had been in for the last hour. I rubbed at it and looked at the house in front of me. It was a small home in a neighborhood full of houses that looked exactly the same. The yard was nice: some bright pink and purple flowers in a window box, neatly trimmed grass, stepping stones carving a path to the front porch. It looked homey. Donavan jumped out of the car, and by the time I’d opened my door, he was around to give me a hand.

He glanced over his shoulder, up at the door, a nervous expression on his face.

“Oh, I didn’t ask, are you in trouble? Had your parents blown up your phone?”

“No, I don’t think my mom realizes yet that I wasn’t at school.”

“Do you need to go warn your parents or your sister that you’re bringing company inside?” I asked, not sure what other reasons he’d have for being nervous.

“No, but I kind of need to warn you.”

“Warn me about what? I’m pretty good with parents.”

“I’m sure you are. No, my sister. She . . .” He narrowed his eyes and studied my face.

“What?” I hadn’t put makeup on after my shower, so I knew my cryfest hadn’t reduced me to a mess of mascara or anything. My hair might have been a bit crazy. When I brushed through it, like I had, my curls were unpredictable. I looked down at my outfit, which was just a pair of jeans, his hoodie, and flip-flops. Not fancy, but not bad either. Was he embarrassed of me?

“She’s a huge fan.”

It took me a second to process those words. “Of me?” I asked, incredulous.

“She loves The Cafeteria more than I do, and she cried when your character died.”

“Your sister, the freshman?”

“Yes, Kennedy.”

“She got attached after four whole episodes?”

“What did I tell you? You were very convincing.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I told you that you were brilliant. That was an all-encompassing compliment.”

“Oh, really? So you can say that you told me anything in the future and it’s covered under the ‘brilliant’ umbrella?”

“Pretty much.”

“I guess I’ll brace myself for this, then.”

“I apologize in advance.”

He headed toward the steps, up to the front door, and I stood there taking in a few breaths and attempting to shake everything that happened today. I put on my happy face. I was about to have an audience—his mom; his sister, my only fan. I needed to be on, not a pathetic mess.