Fangirl

and slid toward him, pushing her arms around his shoulders. Levi smiled so wide, she wished it hadn’t taken an adrenaline rush for her to feel like she could hug him like this. His arms moved around her waist, and she held him tightly, her face in his coat.
    Levi’s mouth was close to her ear. “You shouldn’t reward me for endangering your life, you know. Think of the precedent you’re setting.”
    Cath held him even tighter. He was good. He was good, and she didn’t want to lose him. Not that she felt like she was going to lose him on the interstate. Just, in general. In general, she didn’t want to lose him.
    “I wouldn’t have thought twice of driving through this back home,” he said quietly, “by myself. But I shouldn’t have done this with you. I’m sorry.”
    She shook her head.
    The street was silent, and the cab of the truck was dark gray and white-bright, and after a few minutes, Levi’s hand trailed up her back and down again.
    “Cather,” he whispered, “I really like you.…”
    *   *   *
    When they got out of the truck, the windshield was covered with snow. Levi carried her laundry. Cath let him. He was nervous about meeting her dad, and she was nervous about her dad, period. She’d talked to him every day since Christmas break, and she’d been home to visit—he seemed like he was doing fine, but you never knew with him.…
    When Cath opened the door, he was right there in the living room. There were papers everywhere, onionskin taped to the curtains and walls, all his ideas sorted into buckets. And her dad was sitting on the coffee table, chewing on the end of a Sharpie.
    “Cath,” he said, smiling. “Hey … is it Cath time already?” He looked at the windows, then down at his wrist; he wasn’t wearing a watch. Then he saw Levi and stopped. He took his glasses off his head and put them on, standing.
    “Dad, this is Levi. He gave me a ride.” That hadn’t come out right. Cath tried again: “He’s, um … Levi.”
    Levi held out his hand. “Mr. Avery, nice to meet you.” He was drawling. Maybe his accent was a nervous tic.
    “It’s nice to meet you,” her dad said. And then—“Levi.”
    “I’m really sorry about taking Cather out in this weather,” Levi said. “I didn’t realize how bad it was.”
    Nothing registered on her dad’s face. He looked toward the windows. “Is it messy out? I guess I haven’t been paying attention.…”
    Levi’s face went nearly blank. He smiled politely.
    Her dad looked at Cath and remembered that he was going to hug her. “Are you hungry?” he said. “Is it dinnertime? I’ve been in a Franken-fog all day.”
    “Did you guys get the Frankenbeans account?” she asked.
    “Still pitching. Eternally pitching. So, Levi,” he said, “are you staying for dinner?”
    “Oh,” Levi said. “Thank you, sir, but I better get back while there’s still some light.”
    Cath wheeled around. “Are you kidding me? You’re not driving back to Lincoln in this.”
    “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Four-wheel drive. Snow tires. Cell phone.”
    “No,” Cath said harshly. “Don’t be an idiot. We’re lucky that we got here okay—you’re not going back.”
    Levi bit his lips and raised his eyebrows helplessly.
    Her dad walked past them to the door. “Jesus,” he said from the porch. “She’s right, Levi—I’m just going to keep saying your name until I remember it, is that okay?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Cath pulled on Levi’s sleeve. “You’re staying, all right?”
    He licked his bottom lip nervously. She wasn’t used to seeing him nervous. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.
    “Okay,” her dad said, walking back into the living room, “dinner…” He still looked like he was in a Franken-fog.
    “I got it,” Cath said. “You keep working. You look like you’re on to something.”
    He smiled at her gratefully. “Thanks, honey. Just give me another half hour to sort through this.” He turned back to his concepts. “Levi, take off your coat.”
    Cath started taking off her boots and hung her coat on a hook. She pulled on Levi’s sleeve again. “Take off your coat.”
    He did.
    “Come on,” she said, walking into the kitchen. Everything seemed in order. She glanced into her dad’s room and into the bathroom. No toothpaste poetry.
    “I’m sorry,” Levi said when they got into the kitchen.
    “Shut up,” she said. “You’re making me nervous.”
    “I should go.”
    “Not as nervous as I’d be if