I'll Be Here

exactly what it would be.
    So, after I’d finished with the garland and arranged two cheese and cracker trays under the supervision of Brooke and my mother, I took extra time getting ready.  With a large round bristly brush I pulled my hair out under the blow dryer until it was as smooth and shiny as it had ever been.  Leaning closely into the mirror, I applied a second coat of mascara to emphasize my lashes and shiny coat of reddish lip gloss.  Pomegranate Pout.  That’s what it was called. 
    I went through three outfits before I decided on my favorite pair of jeans and a light green raw silk top that I’d purchased the week earlier.  The long sleeves billowed gracefully around my arms and the neckline was trimmed with silver embroidery.  My earrings were silver stars.
    “Knock, knock,” Laney called out, not waiting for me to respond before she opened my bedroom door. 
    She took in my makeup, my hair and the new top and her eyes widened.  “Alex?”  She asked.
    I smiled crookedly and I guess that was enough of an answer.
    Laney laughed and clasped her hands together.  “Finally,” she squealed.
    If I had dreamed up a night, I couldn’t have made it more perfect.  I was all anticipation and spin and flustered breathing.  I couldn’t remember Alex ever looking at me the way that he was looking at me and it made my heart go thump, thump—stop—and then thump some more. 
    This night was special. 
    I could feel that truth like it was the salty wind kissing my hair. 
    It was a promise. 
    And I would be more than I had ever been.  This was also a promise.  Because I looked pretty good and I was clever and full of witty party banter like I had never been before.  And I didn’t trip even when there was a chair where there shouldn’t have been on the walkway between the grill and the shrubs.  And when I told the story about the missing library book, Alex laughed along with mom’s friends from work. 
    I decided that we were in love.  Mutual love.  A far better thing than singular love. 
    There were too many clues to just ignore it.  By the food table when I was sorting out the silverware situation, Alex commented that the shirt that I was wearing brought out the green in my eyes and that my earrings matched the festive decor.  Were those the types of things that guys that were exclusively “friends” noticed?   
    And then he placed a lemon on the side of my soda glass because he knew that’s the way that I liked it and I was sure.
    It was as simple as that.
    At midnight we tossed our paper wishes into the fire and although I’d told mom that the whole thing was silly, I’ll admit that it was exciting to see our dreams hover in the heavy-clinging grayish smoke and then waft upward like a hot breath.
    Laney leaned into me and whispered low, sparing a glance in Alex’s direction.  “Willow, I think your wish is going to come true.”  Just then his eyes swung towards mine and his face transformed into a rare full-watt grin. 
    When most of the guests had gone and Laney was in my room texting her then-boyfriend, I stood outside in the night by myself, trying to squeeze bravery out of every pore in my body.  I would speak with him.  I would tell him how I felt.  If only I could make my brain work properly.
    I shuffled my feet.
    I wrung my hands.
    And then Alex was there, his face lined by the glow from the outdoor lighting.  “Are you cold?”  He asked the question because I was shivering. 
    I couldn’t explain that the tremble in my body was not from the cold. 
    “A little,” I said.
    “Here.”  He slouched out of his corduroy jacket and passed it over my shoulders.  It was still warm from his body heat and it smelled of him.  I entertained a wave of crazy thoughts.  I will never take this jacket off.  I will sleep with it tucked under my pillow.  I will cut it up into a hundred smaller pieces and always keep one in my pocket.
    “Thanks.”  I said.  Alex’s smile was like a slow wink and his fingertips grazed the edges of the jacket sleeve close to the skin of my wrist.  So close. 
    We talked at the same time, each of us saying the other’s name. 
    “Alex—”
    “Willow—”
    I laughed first and he followed.
     “Jinx.”  Alex was facing me head-on and he was beautiful in his tangled kind of way.  I noticed a dark freckle peeking out from just above his collar. 
    When he reached up to swat at a flying insect that lazily circled our heads,