The Stillburrow Crush (15 page)

But then Luke's voice said, "Hello?"

I couldn't speak at first. My heart was thumping too madly and I had to calm myself. Luke said hello again. And I bit my lip after taking a huge lungful of air.

"Hey, Lucas," I said.

He paused and I swore it was to check his caller ID. Then he said, "Carrie?" He sucked in a breath. "What're you doing?" If the bewilderment I heard in his voice was genuine, the boy was clueless. I could almost see him glancing out his window to check if the sky had turned orange and the ground was purple.

"Hello?" he said again. "Carrie?"

My heart leapt. A battle inside me began. I was tempted to hang up and forget about my crazy scheme. But I wanted to see him again. I didn't want to make a fool of myself over him, but I hadn't shaken off my impulsive frame of mind yet.

"I'm still here," I said, and sat down on the corner of my unmade bed.

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He waited for me to go on but when I said nothing, he hesitantly asked, "Do you need some help with trig?"

I shook my head, though he couldn't see it. "No," I said.

"OK." I could picture him shaking his own head, trying to clear it. "Then...what's going on?"

I gulped in a lungful of air. "Could you meet me tonight on the corner of Oak and Adams with your car?" He lived near there and Oak Street trailed off into the country toward the lake. We could drive out somewhere and set off the fireworks.

"Why?" I heard him say.

"I'll let you know when we get there." My stomach was churning. What was I doing? He was going to say no. Of course, he was going to say no. "How about seven," I said.

"It'll be dark by then, right?"

"Uh..." Luke let out an uncertain laugh. "What's this all about?"

I fell back onto the mattress and stared up at my ceiling. I suddenly wanted to say, "Never mind. I didn't mean to call."

But instead I said, "It's about our little secret."

"Our—" His voice cut out, then he said so quietly I could barely hear him. "More people wrote in to the paper?"

"No."

"Then what?"

I grinned. If I wasn't good at anything else, I was great at frustrating the poor guy. "Meet me and you'll find out."

Luke took forever to decide, but finally he relented. My chest began to swell. We were going to meet again. I was going to see Luke alone one more time.

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For the first time, we said goodbye to each other before hanging up.

"Since I'm the one driving, don't you think you better tell me where we're going now?"

I shut the passenger door of Luke's Mustang and glanced over at him. He darted a suspicious peek at my book bag. It was stuffed full, and lumpy. But he didn't ask what was inside, probably because he knew I wouldn't tell him.

I shrugged. I was nervous. I hadn't yet fully decided if this was a good idea or not, therefore I hadn't settled on all the details of my plan, like where this event would take place.

"It doesn't matter where we go," I answered. "As long as it's outside of town where we're alone."

Luke glanced at the bag again as I slid it to the floorboard between my knees. He put the car into gear. "You're not one of those serial killers that gets her victims alone and then slices them open and drinks their blood, are you?"

I wiggled my eyebrows. "What's your blood type?"

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he mumbled something under his breath. It sounded like he said,

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

"We can always go back," I said, watching him, almost hoping he'd stop and turn around but wanting him to keep going at the same time.

"Heck no," he said. "There's no calling it quits now. I've got to see what this is all about."

He pulled the car off onto another country road and came to a halt. He killed the engine but kept the headlights on.

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When I realized where we were, I gasped softly. It was our spot. I turned to him, ready for an explanation.

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "I didn't know where else to go."

My insides grew warm and snuggly. Instantly, I thought of our last visit to this exact spot. I felt like we were repeating history, returning to our first kiss. It was like Luke and I were destined to repeat the scene until we got it right.

"All right," he said, turning to me. "What's in the bag?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm glad to see you too," I said, and reached forward to lug the bag onto my lap. I unzipped it and moved it back when Luke leaned over to peek inside. He glanced up and I shook my finger at him.

"To start with," I said, trying to sound dramatic, "we have this." I pulled the first item free. It was a thick red-and-white-checkered tablecloth.

In the dark, I caught a glimpse of Luke arching one eyebrow. He lifted the tablecloth out of my hand. "A blanket?"

He sounded baffled.

I nodded. "Very good. Now be a doll, will you, and spread that out on the ground."

His head swiveled up to me. "On the ground? Outside?"

I nodded. And he shook his head.

"You've got to be kidding me. It's freezing out there."

"Well then, you're in luck because I've got something to warm us up." I pulled out a full bottle of wine. He snatched that away from me too, peering at the label. When he saw it was the same bottle he'd pulled from my mom's kitchen drawer, I added, "Be glad I decided against the ice cream."

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He looked up, shaking his head. "You never cease to surprise me."

I took the blanket back and handed him a silver utensil. "I also thought to bring a corkscrew. There's no cups, though."

"So where's the food?" He smiled as he worked the corkscrew into the cork. When I pulled out the Tupperware container, his smile dropped and his jaw fell open.

"Right here," I said, grinning. "But it's not much." The plastic was fogged from the temperature difference inside the container. Luke bent down to peek inside.

"What is it?"

I popped the lid. "Cheese, apples, rolls, and...watermelon,"

I said proudly, showing off the ruby-red, bite-sized chunks inside. "They don't sell whole watermelons at Getty's General this time of year. But I found this much being sold with a whole fruit platter of grapes, pineapple chunks and melon balls."

"Why watermelon?" he said.

"I'm trying to re-create something," I said. I rested the bag in my lap, the last surprise still inside. "Tell me what red-and-white-checkered tablecloths, wine, and watermelon remind you of."

"Um..." He frowned as he tugged harder on the corkscrew.

Then he said, "Summer, I guess," just as the cork popped out. The bottle teetered and some juices dribbled down the side of his finger. He licked the droplets off. My stomach dropped as I watched his tongue lap up the excess. He glanced over at me, seeming unaware of how much I'd been gawking. "It reminds me of summertime and picnics."

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I reached inside the bag, wanting more than anything to impress him. "You're getting close," I said, and came up with a fistful of the fireworks I'd nabbed. I waved them back and forth like a flag. "Now what does it remind you of?"

Luke took a wad of sparklers out of my hand and stared at them as if he'd never seen them before. "The Fourth of July,"

he said, his voice full of awe.

"Ever celebrated the Fourth in November?"

He shook his head. "I think I'm about to, though."

I grinned, opened my door and got out of the car. I could hear him still inside, groaning and muttering about the temperature before I shut him in. Finally he got out too, carrying the opened bottle.

It was freezing. There was a bit of a wind too, which made matters worse. I pulled the collar of my coat up over my neck and huddled deep inside. I watched Luke's silhouette as he passed the headlights. The lights caught him perfectly. He shivered and rubbed his arms.

"How'd you talk me into doing this again?"

I set the tablecloth, fireworks and watermelon on the hood of his Mustang. When I looked up at him, I knew my cheeks and nose were red with cold.

"I want you to write a poem about this," I said.

Luke glanced around him at the night. He rubbed his arms and a cloud of white fog exited his mouth. "About what?"

I nodded toward the hood where my supplies lay strewn like an Independence Day hood ornament. "About all that."

"The Fourth of July?"

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I grinned at his bewildered tone. "That's why I planned this. I love the Fourth of July...the lights, the food, the festivities. And I want words to describe how it always makes me feel. Only...I can't write like that. Not like you can." I looked up and caught a side view of his face as he studied the tablecloth. I saw that overbite of his and my stomach dropped.

For moment, he said nothing. Then he whispered, "OK."

The air rushed out of my lungs. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath, waiting for his response. I hadn't realized his answer would be so important either, until he'd given it and I felt the relief. Suddenly, I wanted to hug him and thank him profusely. But then I caught myself.

I twisted my body away so he couldn't see my face and I reached for the cloth. I was about to lay it out on the ground in front of the headlights, but he stopped me by quietly taking the blanket from my hands. Without a word, he went out in front of the car a few feet and flipped the tablecloth up in the air. For a moment, the cloth fluttered in the cool night and wavered above him. As it began to float down, Luke stepped back and held the blanket wide. It landed perfectly, settling over gravel and dirt with such grace and style my breath caught in my chest. Luke's back was to me as he bent down to straighten a slightly wrinkled corner. His shoulders were wide and well formed. And I saw his midnight hair glistening in the headlights.

He stood slowly and I noticed his grace of movement. He was so beautiful. As a chilly gust of wind came up and stirred 144

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his hair and clothing, artistically ruffling his perfection, it seemed like he was meant to look exactly as he was.

When he turned, I swallowed and held up a watermelon piece. He stared at it a moment before reaching out slowly and taking it from my fingers. My stomach curled as he lifted it to his mouth and took it between his teeth.

"Mmm," he said. "At least it still tastes sweet this time of year."

I tried my own sample bite, and while I chewed Luke led me to the tablecloth and we sat down. It was cold enough to make my teeth rattle, but they didn't because the temperature didn't bother me. In fact, a strange warmth had ignited in my stomach and was steadily working its way up my arms and down my legs. And the closer Luke settled himself next to me, the hotter it burned.

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We taste-tested the wine first. Luke held the bottle by the neck as he drank and I watched his throat work when he swallowed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His blue eyes were bright as they met mine. Then he moved his hand from his face and sighed. After he handed the drink to me, he never took it back. I hadn't had more than one glass before. And when I told Luke this, he said I wouldn't get as sick if I drank slowly.

It was so nice being there with him. I forgot I'd been nervous, and I teased him about the way he sucked the juice out of his watermelon before eating it.

After we polished off the rest of our snack—which he just had to note was all "health" food—we delved into the fireworks. I realized I hadn't brought any form of fire. But Luke came up with the idea of using his car's cigarette lighter to light the bamboo punk I discovered mixed in with the fireworks.

We set off the jumping jacks first. They made little sparks of light and sounded like crackling pops in the night. Then we worked our way through the sparklers. I tried to spell my name but Luke started to use his as a sword and we ended up having a jousting match instead—a short one because the sparklers stayed lit for only so long.

Next we set off bottle rockets. We'd toss them in the air right before they took off. Luke had better aim than I did because mine would dive right into the grass before popping.

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His always managed to fly up and explode into a short volley of crackles, briefly lighting the night.

We collapsed on the tablecloth when every last firework had been set off. I was surprised there'd only been a few duds in the old pack. Almost everything had exploded with a satisfying report.

I sat huddled in my coat, shivering, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

From his corner of the blanket, Luke glanced up. "Cold?"

I sent him a get-real look. "Nope. I'm nice and toasty."

He sighed. "You really can't control that smart mouth, can you?"

"Would you rather I had a stupid mouth?" I watched him as I tilted the bottle up and took a long drink. When I was done, I started to shiver again.

"Come here," Luke said.

I scooted away and gave him an uneasy look.

He rolled his eyes. "Are you telling me you can invite me out here to the middle of nowhere all alone in the dark of the night, but you're too chicken to sit next to me and share a little body heat?"

I stared at the headlights of his car, wondering how much longer they could stay on before the battery went dead. I trembled again and used my numbed fingers to wipe the hair out of my eyes. "It's not the middle of nowhere," I said.

"We're not that far from town."

Luke took two handfuls of my coat and yanked me across the blanket toward him. His voice nearly growled as he said,