Luke who clutched me to his chest
and murmured, “Lily . . . my Lily . . .”
over and over again.
It was Luke
who rescued me.
Luke.
When I Was Seven
My dad’s tech start-up
almost went under.
This big corporation sued him
or something.
My parents
never explained why.
They just said that unless a miracle happened,
we were gonna go bankrupt.
But then,
a miracle did happen.
Luke
happened.
He’d just inherited
a bunch of money from his grandfather.
So he invested most of it
in Dad’s company
and saved the day.
When I Was Ten
Luke moved into a place
that was literally around the corner.
He’d always lived in the same city as us,
studying for his doctorate, and then working.
So we used to see him at least once a week.
But now
that he lived so close,
he came over all the time.
It made every day
feel like Christmas.
Dad was too late for dinner most nights.
But Luke was always there—
helping Mom cook,
teaching us old English whaling songs,
showing us how to make shepherd’s pie.
Then, while Mom gave Alice a bath
and put her to bed, he’d help me with my homework.
Afterwards, he’d sit with me on the couch,
put his arm around my shoulder, and ask me how I was.
Like he actually wanted to know the answer.
So I poured my heart out to him.
I told him things I couldn’t tell anyone else.
And he listened. I mean really listened.
He was my best friend, my hero,
and my soul mate all rolled into one.
He Was Sort of Like a Character from a Novel
A novel I couldn’t put down.
I love reading almost as much as I love Luke.
When I’m under the spell of a book,
it’s like I’m living in its pages.
I look at my face in the mirror,
and see the heroine’s eyes staring back at me.
And when I put my hand over my chest,
I feel her heart beating.
I especially love love stories.
Rose and I both do.
It was love stories
that brought us together.
We met each other
in Bella’s Bookshop,
just before the beginning
of seventh grade.
When Bella introduced us,
we ended up talking for three hours straight
about which Jane Austen novel
was the most romantic.
Rose: definitely Pride and Prejudice.
Me: definitely Persuasion.
But it didn’t matter.
Because we’d already become best friends.
And Books Aren’t All We Have in Common
Both our moms apparently
thought it would be adorable
to name us after flowers.
And we both knew, when Taylor
showed up on the first day of school,
that our circle had been completed.
We arranged to meet for lunch in the cafeteria,
and got so busy talking,
we forgot to eat.
Taylor’s stories about
blowing stuff up at chemistry camp
made us laugh so hard we nearly peed.
By the end of the day,
Taylor started calling us
“the Triatomics.”
Rose and I had to Google it.
Turns out a triatomic is a single molecule
made of three different atoms.
Which is exactly
what it feels like we’ve been
ever since.
This Morning
Alice and I are apartment hunting with Luke.
I hate the thought of him moving out,
but it’s sorta fun to see all the different places.
In each apartment the agent shows us,
I imagine what it would be like
to live there with Luke.
What it would be like
to cook dinner together
in the shiny new kitchen.
What it would be like
to hold hands on the balcony,
watching the sunset.
What it would be like
to take a bath with him
in the extra-deep jetted tub.
What
it would
be like . . .
But then the agent says,
“You could convert this den into a bedroom
for these two darling kids of yours.”
And my imaginings grind to a screeching halt.
The Next Day, It’s Pouring Out
So we decide to have a stay-at-home
Camp Luke-a-Wanna day.
He teaches us how to play
a game called Sardines:
One person hides and the others search for him.
Then, as each person finds him,
they squeeze into the hiding place with him.
And the last person to find the others is the loser.
Luke hides first,
in a tiny closet tucked under the stairs.
It only takes me a few minutes to locate him.
I wriggle in next to him.
Now, as we wait for Alice to find us,
sitting here together in the thrilling dark,
Luke’s thigh is pressed against mine,
his fingers resting lightly on my ankle.
Our heads are so close
I can feel his breath on my neck.
My heart’s beating so loud
I’m afraid he’ll hear it.
Or worse still—
that Alice will.
Because I really don’t want her
to find us.
But, of Course, She Does
Just a few
all-too-short minutes
later.
When she swings open the closet door
and finds us huddled inside,
she squeals with delight.
And as Luke climbs out,
I could swear I hear him
mutter, “Damn . . .”
Though I probably
just imagined it.
I’m sure I imagined it.
He Holds Out Both Hands to Help Me Up
Then he laces our fingers together.
“Would you like to hide next, Lily?” he says.
And his voice vibrates all through me.
He’s looking right into my eyes when he asks.
And I’m so flustered I can’t speak.
So I just nod.
But Alice breaks the spell.
“No more Sardines,” she says.
“It gets too lonely when I’m the only one left.”
A cloud passes over Luke’s face.
Though it comes and goes so fast,
I’m not even sure if it was ever there.
“Let’s have a ballet recital instead,” Alice says.
He shoots her a look.
Then he turns back to me with a shrug,
and unlaces our fingers.
I’ve Been Wearing Luke’s Necklace 24/7
And every night,
I’ve fallen asleep
with my fingers resting
on its smooth green stones.
I’ve only taken it off
when I’m in the tub.
Which is where I am right now,
up to my neck in creamy bubbles.
&n
bsp; But my fingers are starting to shrivel
and Mom’s shouting that dinner’s in ten.
So I sigh myself out of the water,
and towel off.
I look at my face in the mirror.
My cheeks are flushed from soaking in the tub.
Or maybe from that deeply sudsy daydream
I just had about Luke.
I slip on my bathrobe,
fasten the clasp on my necklace,
tug open the bathroom door—
and bump right into him!
I Mean, Like I Literally Bump Right into Him
I grab my forehead
where it collided with his collarbone,
and we both take a quick step back.
“Sorry!” I say.
“You all right?” he asks, letting his dark eyes
travel quickly over my body.
I glance down
and realize that my bathrobe
has fallen open.
I yank it shut as Luke’s eyes meet mine,
and the flush on my cheeks
spreads to the rest of me.
Then Luke smiles this funny little smile and says,
“You really have become a woman, Lily—
a gorgeous one . . .”
Oh my God.
My mouth goes so dry I can’t even speak.
So I just flash Luke my braces-free smile
and dash down the hall to my room.
I Close the Door Behind Me
And lean against it,
feeling strangely breathless,
as Luke’s words echo all through me.
“Five-minute warning,” Mom calls.
So I pull myself together,
slip on my slinky black lace top,
pour myself into my favorite jeans,
and swipe on some lip gloss.
A second later,
as I float down the stairs,
I hear Luke’s door opening,
his footsteps following right behind mine.
A sweet shiver runs through me.
I can feel his eyes on me.
Feel them taking in
every single inch of me.
But I’m an Idiot
Because when
I reach the bottom step
and turn around,
I see that he’s not
even looking at me.
He’s looking at his phone.
He’s all dressed up—
his hair slicked back,
wearing a fancy sports coat,
and he must have
some kind of aftershave on,
because he smells like the woods.
He pockets his phone, then tells Mom
he’s meeting an old friend for dinner.
“An old girlfriend’s more like it,” Dad laughs.
Then Luke kisses Mom’s cheek
and says, “Good night, kids,” waving
in the general direction of Alice and me.
But he never even glances at me.
And when the door closes behind him,
it feels like all the air in the house
has followed him out into the street.
Now I Know
I know that even though Luke said
I’ve turned into a woman,
he still thinks of me
as a child.
Less than an hour ago,
I’d convinced myself
that some kind of magic
had happened.
That Luke had stayed the same age
while I grew up.
That he’d waited
for me.
Just like he promised me he would
when I was a little girl.
I Just Googled It
And found out
that when you love someone
in an all-consuming way,
even though it makes no sense
because you know that person
doesn’t love you back,
and you know for sure
that there’s absolutely no chance
of him ever loving you back
because
you’ll always be
way too young for him,
but you keep on
loving that person
anyway,
and thinking about them
every minute of every day—
that’s called obsessive love.
And I’m pretty sure
I’ve got the world’s
worst case of it.
Sometimes
Sometimes
I feel like a book.
Like a book
that’s never been opened—
hidden away
in a long-forgotten library,
waiting for someone
to find me,
ease me off
my shelf,
and read me.
It’s Saturday
And Dad has actually decided
to take a day off for once.
So Alice and I have to share Luke
with him and Mom.
Alice wanted
to feed the ducks.
So we packed some sandwiches (for us)
and some stale bread (for the ducks).
Now we’re strolling along
the dirt path next to the river,
headed for a picnic near the little cove
where the ducks hang out.
Luke and Dad are walking up ahead of us,
talking in low tones.
Luke must be telling him
how his date went last night.
My stomach turns over
just thinking about it.
Obsessive love sucks.
I Don’t Want to Eavesdrop on Dad and Luke
I really don’t.
But the breeze
keeps blowing their words
back to me.
“Amber?” Dad says. “Wasn’t she the one
who followed you around campus like a puppy?”
“Yeah,” Luke says with a chuckle.
“The girl just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Dad bursts out laughing at this.
“You’ve never said no to a girl in your life.”
“She was a hot little thing,” Luke says.
“But she’s even hotter now—aged, like fine wine.”
Just then,
Mom puts on some speed to catch up to them,
and slips her arm through Luke’s.
All talk of Amber comes to a sudden halt.
“Hey,” Alice cries, “wait for me!”
She runs up and takes hold of Luke’s other hand.
Leaving me alone, to scuff along behind them,
kicking every stone and pebble in my path.
My Phone Buzzes in My Pocket
It’s a text from Rose to Taylor and me:
Sleepover 2nite. My house. 7?
Taylor texts right back:
No place I’d rather be.
Except maybe in a lab.
Or anywhere with Channing Tatum. ☺
They just got back
from Cape Cod and chemistry camp.
(I still can’t believe Taylor went there voluntarily.)
I’ve missed them both to pieces.
But I wouldn’t be very good company . . .
What should I say?
Rose texts again: Say YES, Lil.
Whoa . . . Sometimes I think that girl
can actually read my mind.
And Taylor adds:
Don’t u wanna hear all our
racy tales of summer romance?
Which is when I finally cave:
I totally do. I’ll bring the popcorn.
And Rose texts back: Thank goodness!
Cuz we gotta discuss The Sky Is Everywhere
+ whether Lennie shud have given her heart
to Toby or to Joe!!!
What would I do without those two?
Saturday Night
I’ve thrown my pj’s,
my toothbrush, and a bag of popcorn
into my backpack.
A second ago, I said goodbye to Dad.
But he was so busy watching a football game
he didn’t even notice.
Sometimes he makes me feel
like I’m the least important
person on the planet.
Now I’m waiting by the front door
while Mom searches her purse
for her car keys.
Alice is doing a “goodbye ballet” for me,
pirouetting her little heart out,
when Luke comes trotting down the stairs.
He’s all dressed up to go out again.
That’s two nights in a row now.
But who’s counting? Sigh . . .
He stops short when he sees me standing here
with my backpack slung over my shoulder,
and offers to give me a lift.
He offers to give me a lift!
What Is It About Being Alone in a Car?
Alone
in a car at sunset
with the guy you’re obsessively
in love with?
Is it the soft leather seats?
The dim dashboard light?
The jazz oozing
out of the speakers?
Or is it how his hands
guiding the steering wheel
are so ridiculously beautiful
you wish you could photograph them?
What is it about being
alone in this car with Luke right now,
that’s making me feel
like my whole body’s humming,
right along with the engine?
Suddenly Luke’s Laughing
And I don’t
have any idea why.
“What’s . . . so funny?” I say.
“Well,” he says,
“I just asked you something,
and I’ve got a feeling you didn’t hear me.”
“Oh,” I say. “Sorry . . .
I must have been . . . I guess I was—”
“Daydreaming again?” Luke says.
And then he flashes me a smile
that’s so . . . so . . . Well it’s just so loving,
that I probably would have keeled right over.
I mean,
if I weren’t already
sitting down.
As We Turn Left onto Kingsley