Ryan Hunter

pout, she relented.
    We put our shoes on, which we’d left behind in the car, then I drove us to her house. Liza made me wait by the door until she’d inspected the hallway and made sure that her folks weren’t around. Obviously, she didn’t like me walking in front of them half-naked. Me neither.
    She ushered me past the empty kitchen, but when we headed for the stairs, Mr. Matthews came out of the living room and stopped dead in the threshold. He gave me a once over, his brows furrowing into a deep V.
    “Wet blouse,” I said quickly and held out the dirty bundle in my defense. “She needed something to wear.”
    A laughing Bethany walked up behind her husband and rubbed his upper arm. “I told you he’s a gentleman, darling.” She then gave me a warm smile, easing my tension.
    Without wasting another moment, Liza dragged me up to her room. While she rushed through a shower and dressed, I lounged on her bed, this time resisting the urge to read more of her diary. I wanted to be a nice boyfriend. Someone she could rely on and utterly trust.
    While she skimmed through the many hoodies in her wardrobe, trying to select one that fit her pink strappy top, I walked up behind her, looped my arms around her middle and rested my chin on her shoulder. “Do you still have the Mickey Mouse sweatshirt?”
    Liza sent me a startled sideways glance. “The dark gray one?”
    “M-hm.”
    “I didn’t wear it for over a year.”
    “I know,” I drawled, letting her hear how that fact had bothered me all of last school year. She looked amazing in that sweater, and right now I wanted to give her a choice between either that or the green bikini top again.
    Fishing the sweatshirt out from under a stack of other clothes, she mumbled, “I can’t believe that you still remember that thing.”
    She had no freaking idea what other memories I had saved of her over the years. When she pulled the snuggly fitting sweater on and turned in my arms, I all but asked her to do her hair in those sexy pigtails again, which she’d last done when she wore this outfit. But I decided to keep that option for a day where I wouldn’t have to share her with anyone else.
    Fifteen minutes later, we climbed out of my car in front of the cinema. While Liza headed over to Frederickson and Alex—the guy had finally grabbed the girl he wanted as well—I joined Andy and Sasha by the counter and paid for two tickets.
    Walking back to the others, I found Liza standing way too close to Tony, who must have come just a minute ago, and the sight clenched my gut. Liza had told me that he’d kissed her before sending me the text message on Friday night, but that she’d felt nothing for him. I believed her, but there was this small part in me that felt insecure nonetheless.
    I hooked two fingers into the waistband of her jeans and pulled her just a small step back, marking territories here. Liza looked up at me and reached for my hand, squeezing it with the utmost trust and confidence. With it, she coaxed out my smile.
    Then I turned to Tony. “Hey, Mitchell. Are we cool?” I held out a fist to him.
    He bumped it without hesitation. “Of course.”
    And that was the moment when everything slipped into place. I had my friend back, and the most beautiful girl, the only one I ever loved, stood by my side and laced her fingers through mine.
    When it was time to get to our seats inside and everyone got moving, I held Liza back for another moment.
    “What’s wrong?” she demanded, tilting her head.
    “What did Mitchell say to you?” I just had to know to be able to check the matter off and completely relax with my girlfriend.
    “He asked me if I was happy.”
    I leaned down and touched my forehead to hers, needing to know only one more thing. “Are you?”
    Liza lifted on her toes and placed a sweet little kiss on my cheek. “Absolutely.”

Epilogue
     
    “AW, PLEASE, CAN’T we just go back to my house and make out there for the rest of the evening?”
    I laughed at Liza’s whiny face, and even though that option was one helluva temptation, I dragged her through the front door with me. Standing in the foyer of my house, I wondered who’d be the first to come and meet my girlfriend. Rachel or Mom?
    As it turned out, they walked out of the dining room together, both struggling to keep their beaming expressions under control. I helped Liza out of my leather jacket, which she’d demanded as a paycheck for this official meeting, and hung it on the