Diary of a Teenage Jewel Thief(22)
Determined to keep my cool, I square my shoulders and put a few extra inches between us before answering. “Yeah, I guess.”
His eyes widen in surprise, then narrow. “Or maybe we could go somewhere else, somewhere we can talk. Get to know each other. Tomorrow?” And just like that, he’s all charm again.
“Are you asking me on a date?” I ask the question partly in an attempt to shake his confidence again and partly because I want to make it perfectly clear I know what’s happening before I make a fool out of myself by assuming.
He blinks in surprise. “Well, yeah.”
I’ve already made up my mind, but I take my time answering, pretending I’m deliberating the merits of going on a date with him. I do my best to effect an air of calm, but inside I’m a giddy bundle of nerves. Finally, I answer, “Okay, tomorrow, then.”
Will visibly relaxes, then reaches into his back pocket for his phone. “What’s your number?”
I recite it and watch as he programs it into his phone under the name “Flower.”
He slips the phone into his pocket and stands, turning the chair back around and tucking it under the table once he’s on his feet. “Cool. I’ll call you.” Then he saunters toward his friends across the cafeteria.
I go back to my book, opening to a random page quickly in an attempt to look unaffected by his visit and our conversation, but it isn’t the page that I left off on. Not that it would have mattered. I’m too flustered to concentrate on a single word; the letters all blend together, blurred by my preoccupation with Will, but I pretend to read anyway, using the book as cover while I mentally replay every word, every look, every second of the last five minutes.
…
My first clue that something is different as we approach the school the next morning is the pink balloons tied to the fence above the retaining wall. But what really drives things home is the way students are paired off, leaning against lockers two by two, making googly eyes at each other.
Valentine’s Day.
I forgot all about it. It’s not like I’ve ever celebrated it or ever had a reason to.
And even though we’ve walked to school together every day this week and half of last, it still feels entirely too intimate today, like we’re announcing something about our relationship, a relationship that doesn’t actually exist. Not yet, anyway.
Will doesn’t seem to notice. If anything, he might be walking a little taller, standing a little straighter. And it hits me: we have a date tonight. On Valentine’s Day. Well, if that’s not rushing into things, I don’t know what is.
I stop Will somewhere near my locker by placing a hand on his forearm. “I didn’t realize today was Valentine’s Day.”
“Are you saying you wish I’d brought you chocolates and roses?” he teases.
“About our date tonight…” I trail off, not quite sure how to voice the reservations I have about our first date being on Valentine’s Day.
His grin disappears in the time it takes me to say the words, and his expression blanks, like he knows what’s coming. He sighs and sifts a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask you out because it was Valentine’s Day, if that’s what you think.”
He pegged it right on the nose. I shrug and busy myself by spinning my locker combination. I don’t want to seem too vested in this conversation; I’d rather pretend it doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.
“Honestly, I wasn’t even thinking about the day.” He leans in close. “I’d have asked you out for last night if I’d thought you’d accept. It’s a day, just like any other day.”
I’d have been a lot more likely to accept a date for the same day than I am to keep a date for Valentine’s. It might just be a day, but the romantic implications of going on a date for Valentine’s Day will complicate my non-relationship with Will far more than I’m comfortable with.
Part of me wants to keep our date, be like any normal girl my age and actually have a date for Valentine’s. But deep down, I know I can never have that kind of life, a normal life with Will. Not without putting us both at risk. Will makes me forget what I am, who I am. What if I get too comfortable and Petrov finds me, but I miss the warning signs?
Or worse, what if I see the danger coming and have to pick up and leave suddenly because Petrov has found us? Leaving my friends behind is one thing; I’ve done it over and over all my life. But a boyfriend? I’m not sure I would handle that heartbreak well at all. Or what if I don’t pick up and leave and someone gets hurt? I’d handle the guilt of that even worse than the heartbreak of leaving. Nope, it’s best just to keep my distance. I swap my civics book and last night’s homework in my backpack for my precalc book in my locker, then zip up. All the while, I avoid making eye contact with Will. When I can’t avoid it anymore, I turn to him.
“Listen,” I begin, and Will’s shoulders droop just a fraction of an inch. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression here. I’m not looking for anything serious. I’ve got plans for my future.” Yeah, I plan to stay alive and not get anyone else killed in the process. “And dating just seems like it would complicate things. Valentine’s Day is a big deal for some people, and I don’t want you to get the idea that us going out is more than it is. So, I’m thinking we probably should just call it off for tonight. Leave Valentine’s Day to the couples.”