This Girl: A Novel

“It’s just weird.”
    “It is weird,” Gavin says again. “It really is.”
    I can see their point, but I think they’re overreacting. Especially Gavin. He’s known how I’ve felt about Lake for months. “What exactly is so weird?” I put my arm around Lake’s shoulders. “This?” I turn and kiss Lake hard on the mouth until she laughs and pushes me away. We both turn back to Eddie and Gavin and they’re still staring at us like we’re a freak show.
    “Gross,” Eddie says, crinkling up her nose.
    I pick up a sugar packet and toss it in Eddie’s direction. “Go sit somewhere else, then,” I tease.
    Gavin picks up the sugar packet and throws it back at me. “We were here first.”
    “Then deal with it,” I say.
    The table grows quiet and it’s obvious Lake and Eddie have no idea Gavin and I are only kidding around.
    “Personally,” Gavin says, leaning forward. “I thought you and Mrs. Alex made a much better couple.”
    I shrug. “She shot me down. I had to go with my second choice,” I say, nudging my head toward Lake.
    Lake scoffs at the same time the emcee begins speaking into the microphone.
    “The sac has been preselected tonight, due to time constraints by the performer. Everyone please welcome Will Cooper back to the stage.”
    The crowd starts clapping and I slide out of the seat. Lake arches her eyebrow. “Time constraints?” she says.
    I bend down and press my lips to her ear. “I already told you we can’t stay long. We’ll be really, really, really busy after this.” I kiss her on the cheek and walk to the stage. I don’t even give myself time to prepare. I begin my poem as soon as I reach the microphone so that I don’t waste another second. “My piece is called The Gift. . . .”
    If my dad were alive, he’d be sitting right there
    Watching me up here, with a smile on his face
    He’d be proud of the man I’ve become
    He’d be proud that I stepped up to take his place
    If my mother were alive, she’d be at home
    Teaching my brother all the things she taught me
    She’d be proud of the man I’ve become
    She’d be proud of who I grew up to be
    But they aren’t here. They haven’t been for a while .
    It takes time , but it’s starting to make sense .
    I still miss them every time I take a breath .
    Their absence will never go unnoticed.
    But every smile on your face seems to replace
    A memory I’d rather not hold
    Each time you laugh , it fills a void
    Each kiss heals another wound in my soul
    If my dad were here, he’d be sitting with you
    He’d be hugging you . . . saying thank you.
    Thank you for saving my boy.
    Thank you for bringing light to his world.
    If my mother were here, she’d be so happy
    To finally have a daughter in her life
    She’d love you as much as I love you
    She’d make me promise to one day make you my wife
    But they aren’t here. They haven’t been for a while.
    But I can feel their pride. I can feel their smiles.
    I can hear them say, “You’re welcome, Will.”
    When I thank them for sending you from heaven.
    AS SOON AS I return to the booth she’s trying to thank me with a hug, but instead I grab her hand and wave over my shoulder as I pull her to the exit. “See you guys later,” I say to Gavin and Eddie. I don’t even wait for them to say good-bye as we make our way to the door. I remain two steps in front of Lake the entire way back to the car, practically dragging her along behind me. I can’t think of anything but being alone with her tonight. We’re never alone and I need some uninterrupted, alone time with her before I go crazy.
    When we reach the car, I practically shove her inside, then climb into the driver’s seat. I crank the car, then turn toward her and grab her shirt and pull her mouth to mine while I back out of the parking spot.
    “Will, do you realize your car is moving?” she says, attempting to pull away from my grip. I glance out the rear window and cut the steering wheel to the right, then turn back to her.
    “Yep. We need to hurry. You’ve got a curfew and that only gives us two more hours together.” I press my lips to hers again and she shoves my forehead back with the palm of her hand.
    “Then stop kissing me and drive. It won’t be much fun making out with you when you’re dead.”
    •••
    “PULL OVER,” SHE says, several houses down from my driveway.
    “Why?”
    “Just pull over. Trust me.”
    I pull over and park the car on the side of the street. She leans across the seat