Page 34 of The Other Side of Together

When we reach the end of the tunnel, I pull her into my side “Still good with being out for a few more hours?”

She nods. “I’m fine with never going back. As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m so good.” I shove away college and internships and what-ifs and pull her closer so we bump into each other as we walk. “What if I’m a kidnapper?”

“You’re my top pick for kidnappers.”

I stop walking and pull her toward me, wrapping my arms around her. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

She laughs into my chest then looks up at me. “On the topic of kidnapping. My very favorite movie ever is showing in Dolores Park on Monday night, and I was thinking since I owe you a date, maybe you’d go with me? Hopefully willingly so I don’t have to throw you in the back of my white van.”

“Does your van have candy and puppies in it?” I smile and hold her tight until her smile melts through my shirt. “Don’t promise if you can’t deliver.”

She laughs to the sky, her chin jabbing into my chest. “Candy, definitely.”

“I’ll tie myself up and be ready on Monday.”

Her smile lights the space between us and now, I wanna think about the future. The rest of this day. Monday. Whatever days I’ll spend with her after that.

“So…” I sweep away hair that blows across her face. “When you said your best day hasn’t happened yet, I decided I wanna take that spot. And just…stay there.” The ocean breeze whips our hair around, and I smooth hers against the back of her head. “But only if my chances are at least 50 percent.”

A motorcycle speeds past, its rumble shaking the ground and my guilt, and I almost let go of her until she talks against my chest.

“At least50 percent.”

I take a deep breath, fill my lungs with mist. Tonight, when I can’t sleep because there’s too much Mei in my head, I’ll figure out how I’m gonna get the girl and the motorcycle.

I unwrap myself from her. “Challenge accepted.” Pulling out my Sharpie, I write #1 on my arm, then cap it and slide it back in my pocket.

1 *Answer: Sofishticated

CHAPTER 13

Marcus: Mei Day, Mei Day, going down. Sooo tired. FaceTiming until 2 AM takes it out of a guy. Know that guy we saw in Union Station yesterday with the fedora who was sleeping standing up? I’m that tired. 429% Worth it, though. Church isn’t helping. I legit head bobbed and got an elbow to the rib. What are you doing?

Mei: Thinking about you.

Marcus: I approve of this. We’re in 2 different places doing the same thing even when I’m supposed to be thinking about Jesus. Jesus and I are cool though. Got a text from him just now that says you and I should hang out again. Sooner than soon. Quicker than ASAP. Muy rapido. And whatever “fast” is in Chinese. That. Don’t know if I canwait until tomorrow night.

Mei: I love that hint from Jesus. He and Buddha probably talked. But bad news—I have to go. ? Thanks for the note. Still smiling.

Marcus: NOOOOOOOOO……….

Mei: I’ll text after my shift.

Marcus: We should hang after your shift. Maybe we can stay…by the bay…catch some rays…the rest of the day. Yay?

Mei: If I could, it would…be so, so good. It would be my tres favorite day…says Mei…but I have to work at 2…Boo…rather be with you…

Marcus: Guess it’s just me and Jesus until tomorrow night. Then? You and me, #Dos Date…of Fate…don’t be late…

If only Marcus knew the truth about me.

I almost told him so many times yesterday. We’d texted the entire day. Marcus counted 1353 texts. Plenty of chances to tell him the truth, but I got scared. So…maybe tonight.

People stream past me, carrying blankets and pillows, lawn chairs and wine bottles. I scan the faces of the couples holding hands and laughing as they disappear down the grassy hill toward the movie screen. Two guys in glow-in-the-dark footie pajamas dart through the crowd holding hands as a group of old ladies flutters past in Audrey Hepburn hats, robes, and slippers. Marcus texted saying he was on his way and my nerves are swirling in gusts of excitement and a bit of adrenaline, sparky and jittery.

I scan the park and spot him coming down the steps instraight-leg jeans rolled at the ankle, a black hoodie, backwards baseball cap, and his gray Adidas. I swallow and clench my fists at my side, digging my nails into my palm because it’s Marcus Miller, and he’s here with me.

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