16 Things I Thought Were True (17 page)

He pushes himself so he's sitting up straighter. “He's autistic and he, you know, needs a lot of attention. But he's all right though. He's a good kid. He's young. Only seven.”

I process that. I realize that the more I talk to people, the more I see everyone has something going on underneath the surface.

“My mom doesn't work anymore. Not since my brother was born. That's when my dad started driving a truck. Before that, he was home. He worked for the State Department, but he makes more money driving a truck and I think he really likes it. The only thing that bothered him was that he had to quit coaching my baseball team. I quit too, a couple of years later. That's when I started working, to save money for college.”

“You played baseball?”

“Yeah.” He rips out a bunch of grass and throws it up in the air and watches it blow away. “Pitcher. Believe it or not, I was pretty good.”

“Why wouldn't I believe it? I suck at sports,” I tell him.

“So what's your thing then?”

“You mean besides Twitter?” I grin to show I'm kidding.

He rolls his eyes. “Hardly. Like when you were growing up? What'd you like to do?”

“Well. I was a Girl Scout. And later on I started hanging out at the YMCA. My brothers did sports there and I got suckered into volunteering, babysitting. Lexi thought it was lame, but I actually like working with kids.” I lower my eyes.

“Well, I can lend you my brother anytime. He'll teach you lots.”

“How come you didn't say anything about him before?” I ask.

“Well, it's not like I go around telling everyone my brother is autistic. I mean, I'm not ashamed of him. But people…they judge, you know.”

I press my lips tight and nod. “I used to think everyone else had it so easy. Like if I had a dad, my whole life would have been perfect.”

Adam laughs. “Perfect is not a real state of being, dad or not.”

“I'm getting that.”

He stares off into the distance. On the street across from the schoolyard, there's a group of kids playing, and every once in a while, a shout or a laugh blows over in the wind. “Ever since my girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend, dumped me, I've been kind of, you know, steering clear of girls. Like I don't want to get involved. I'm going away to school at the end of high school, so I didn't really see the point.”

I hug my legs tight.

“And you know, I didn't even really like you at first. I'd heard things about you. I mean the video. You were a wild girl who danced around in her underwear. And all the guys talked about your butt, how smoking hot it was.”

I open my mouth to protest but he keeps going. “And you kind of have this thing, this air, that you don't need anyone. Like aloof or whatever. “

I squish my face up.
I
do?

“And you're so pretty.”

My cheeks heat up, with pleasure and embarrassment.

“But then, that day at the hospital, I saw who you really were. Not a snob who thought she was better than everyone else, but a girl trying to be brave. And you were trying to be tough, and I knew then you were nothing like I thought. And I wanted to get to know you better.” He stares off at something not visible to others. “I'm leaving Tadita after high school. And everyone at Tinkerpark hates me. I get moody sometimes.”

I look at him for a long moment and bite my lip. “A year is pretty far away. I don't care what anyone at Tinkerpark thinks. And you should see me when I have PMS.”

He laughs and the tension between us lifts.

“People whisper behind my back wherever I go,” I tell him. “I can never escape what I did, what got posted. Not in Tadita.”

He laughs. “Are we really sitting here trying to convince each other why we shouldn't be together?”

I hold in a girly giggle—and an urge to shout
Let's not!

He doesn't take his eyes off me. “I don't care so much what other people think. That's one of the blessings of having a brother like mine.” He scoots his butt closer so he's right beside me, and then he reaches up and tucks a long strand of hair behind my ear. “I really want to kiss you again,” he whispers. His head moves and my head moves and then his lips press on mine. Soft, full lips that make me shiver. I stop for a second and pull back, staring into his dark eyes. Watching him watch me. Seeing his pupils grow larger under his glasses.

I surprise both of us when I lunge at him, wanting those lips on mine again. I land on top of him.

“Whoa,” he says with a laugh and gently pushes me back a little. He stares into my eyes and then his gaze lowers. He lifts his finger and slowly, gently brushes a fingertip from my throat to the middle of my chest. I close my eyes and swim in the wonderful sensation. Immediately, all my blood rushes down.

“You're so pretty,” he says again, and he makes me feel like maybe I am a little bit. He bends his head down and his warm lips touch my neck. I tilt back my head to give him access and groan as he traces his way back to my mouth. When his lips find mine again, I attack back with zest. I feel like he can see into me, and it doesn't embarrass me or make me ashamed. I lay out my soul. I've never felt the desire to share everything. I cling to his neck as he pushes me gently back on the grass. Interesting. So this is what everyone was talking about.

I move my hands down and feel the muscles and knots along his back and breathe deeply. “You smell so good,” I tell him, and my thoughts turn naughtier.

“I like you, Morgan McLean,” he says as he leans on his elbows, balancing himself over me.

“I like you too,” I return shyly.

He places his hand along the side of my face. “So beautiful.”

I turn my head away.

“What?” he asks, staring down with eyes that are almost black.

“I may be many things but not beautiful.”

He traces his finger over my chin. “Trust me, Morgan. Some girls are cute and some girls are pretty. But to me, you're beautiful.”

My breath stops momentarily before entering my lungs. Our mouths are so close. I hope my breath is fresh. It's doubtful, so I hope he doesn't notice.

“I don't need to be saved,” I tell him.

“I wasn't offering,” he says.

His lips press down on mine and nothing else matters. Nothing but this. I want to be this girl, the one who gets the guy, the one who walks down the hallways at school holding hands and has automatic plans on Saturday night. It's not me, not who I've ever been—not even who I wanted to be. Not really.

Until now.

A throat clears.

I open my eyes. Adam's open as well. We glance over and there's an older woman standing on the grass, not so far away from us. She has a little black dog on a leash, a Chihuahua, and he's staring at us like we are slutty exhibitionists.

“I'm all for young love,” the woman says, and her eyes twinkle with merriment. Adam flips himself into a seated position and I sit up. “But maybe you should take it somewhere private. You're giving a free show to a group of boys on the street.” She points off and I see the boys with skateboards on the street. But they're indeed all holding them under their arms, their eyes on us. When they see us looking over, they start whooping louder.

I smooth out my dress and pat down my hair, pulling a few blades of grass from the back. “Oh my.”

“Oh my, indeed.” The old woman giggles as if she finds our teenage hormones amusing. “Come on, Fredrick. Our work here is done.”

The Chihuahua gives a little woof, but it sounds more like a burp than anything else.

She waves and giggles again then walks away with the little black dog.

Adam stands and holds out a hand to me. I reach for it and he pulls me up. “Whoa,” he says. “That's embarrassing.”

“But fun,” I say and giggle at my forwardness. We start running as the boys on the street make catcalls behind us. We run fast, holding hands all the way back to the truck.

“We can go to my house,” I tell him when we climb back inside. The boys are little blips we can barely see, but they've gone back to skateboarding off the curbs.

Adam glances sideways as he fires up his truck.

“My mom is out. My brothers too. They took her to a movie. They'll be gone awhile.”

“Really? You want to do that?” He backs out of the parking lot and heads up the street.

“Yeah,” I tell him. “I do.”

“Okay.” He smiles and reaches for my hand over the console. We hold hands all the way back to my house without saying too much. All I can concentrate on is the feel of his fingers and his thumb as he rubs it over mine. When we reach my house, he shifts the truck into park in the street in front of Mrs. Phillips's house and pulls out his keys. He leans across the middle panel and lays a scrumptious but short kiss on me. “Wait here.”

He hops out, walks around the truck, and opens my door. Then he grabs my hand and pulls me out, closing the door behind me. He bends down and kisses me and it alters my brain chemistry. When he comes up for air, I'm too tongue-tied to say a thing, but he takes my hand and pulls me toward the front door. Well, I float. When we reach the porch, he stops, turns to me, and smiles.

“You make me want to be a better person,” he says softly. “To deserve you. I want you to know how right you feel to me.”

I swear the birds in our neighborhood sing brighter. His lips are perfect. Soft. Warm. Thrills run through me. All over me. I could stay like this forever. Freeze time. Stand in front of my house and kiss Adam for the rest of my days.

“Keys,” he demands. I stumble, still connected to his lips, trying to rummage inside my purse to find the keys. I concentrate on his fingers stroking my back. I'm incapable of thinking straight, but my fingers locate the keys and I hand them over. We step apart and he unlocks the front door and holds it open and we both step inside the front foyer. The lights are off and it's dim, and he pulls me by the waist until I'm pressed up against him, and I drop my purse, slip off my shoes, and he steps out of his.

We walk into the living room, not speaking as we move to the couch. We kiss and my head rides through wave after dizzy wave. A throat clears.

“Um, Morgan?” says a squeaky voice.

We both snap our heads up.

“Oh my God. Amy?” It's the equivalent of a cold shower. I sit up and move away from Adam. He coughs and sits up too. Amy's on the couch opposite ours, pulling on her shirtsleeves and looking at the floor.

She gets to her feet. “I'm totally sorry. I tried to get your attention but you were kind of busy.” Her face is scrunched up and her chin is quivering and she rubs at her forehead.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I wanted to talk to you.” She glances at Adam, and her bottom lip quivers even more. “I've been texting and tweeting, but you haven't answered.”

“I'm so sorry—I didn't have my phone.” I can scarcely even believe the words I'm saying. When have I ever gone so long without my phone?

“When I came by to see you, Jake was here. He told me you two went out but that you wouldn't be long, and I could come in and wait. I guess I fell asleep. When I woke up, you two were all…” She sniffles and hiccups another sob. “I'm sorry. I'll go.”

She's shaking and obviously upset as she hobbles toward the door.

I stand and go to her side, taking her arm. “Amy? What's wrong?”

“Amy,” Adam says. “It's okay. We can all talk.”

“No,” she says, fluttering her hands around and then stopping in the front hall to slip on pink Uggs with a sparkly design of Miss Kitty on the side. “I wanted to talk to Morgan. No offense.” She runs out the front door. I watch as she hurries down the walk, wondering how Adam and I missed the yellow Mazda parked down the street.

Something is wrong. I glance at Adam and then run out after her in my bare feet. I catch her pretty easily and grab her by the arm.

“Amy,” I say. “Please. Something's obviously bugging you. Come and talk.”

She folds against me. “Would you ever lie to me?” she asks me.

My breath catches. After all this time, has she found out what I've been hiding? About the video? My part in it? “Not about anything that I thought was really important. Why?” I ask.

“Well, I mean. I think of what your mom did, and how you'll have to find some way to forgive her. And that's not fair…for you to find out that I did too? That I left something out. Something important. That's kind of like a lie of omission?”

I open my mouth. My cheeks warm. She doesn't know the truth about the video. The truth I've been hiding from everyone. This isn't about me. I lead her back inside.

“I want you to know the truth about me,” she says.

I take a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.” Adam's standing in the middle of the living room. He stares at us as we walk to the couch. Amy sits first and her shoulders slouch over. I sit beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. She's so tiny.

“Do you want me to go?” Adam asks. “So you two can talk alone?”

Amy looks up and stares at him, long and hard. “Are we friends?” she asks him.

He nods.

“I mean real friends?”

“Of course.” Adam nods solemnly.

“If you and Morgan fight or break up, I'm taking her side,” she tells him, lifting her chin.

I duck my head to hide my smile.

“Deal,” he says. “But we can still like each other in secret.” He winks at her.

“You can stay,” she says to Adam. She takes a deep breath and sits up taller on the couch. “I have an appointment tomorrow. With my oncologist.”

The phone rings, but I don't even look at it.

“I've been in a holding pattern. It was a good run.”

Adam and I glance at each other. My face flushes. The hair on my arms stands on end. I turn back to Amy, frowning. The phone rings again.