Page 35 of The Other Side of Together

When he sees me, his smile bursts in the dim backdrop and he jogs toward me where I stand by the Mexican Liberty Bell. All thoughts of dimming that smile with my reality evaporate into the cloudy sky.

“Hey.” He bends and wraps his arms around me, picking me off my feet. Which is perfect since he makes my legs wobbly every time I see him. I wrap my arms around his neck and breathe in spearmint, his cheek warm against mine.

“Guo Mama gave me your note,” I say, smiling over his shoulder.

He lets me slide through his arms until my feet touch the ground, then laces his fingers with mine. “Dropped it off after youth group.” His voice rumbles over, around, through me. “Guo had the guts to open it and read it right in front of me. She looked at me like she was gonna kiss me.” He smiles over my head then down at me, gripping my hands and spreading our arms out like wings, pulling me into his chest. “Thankfully she only patted my butt, so I made it out unscathed. Still a little shaken, though.”

I laugh into his chest, then tilt my head back to see his face. “I think you kind of like it.”

He leans into me, his mouth on my ear sending vibrations through me. “Would prefer an atta boy from a certain Taiwanese girl a whole lot more, but hey—Guo’s pretty hot for a 200-year-old.” He smiles into the air, and I lead him down the path toward the sea of people spread across the grass in front of the giant projector screen.

“What have you planned tonight besides checking out my butt?”

I bump him with my hip. “Already done that, nothing new.” I say through a smile, and he stops, turning to me.

“I’ve heard about you, Ms. Zhang…” He shakes his head as I pull him across the grass. “Just glad I wore these jeans ‘cause they make my butt look unbelievable.”

I roll my eyes at him but can’t stop a smile as I wrap my hand around his bicep and squeeze.

“But really,” he says, scanning the crowd, “what have you planned this fine April evening?”

“I was thinking we’d hang here for a bit. Just us. And all these people. And Audrey Hepburn.” I nod toward the giant screen. “My white van is in the shop, but I brought the candy. And some Oreos, so if you don’t like the movie, at least your stomach and bloodstream will be happy.”

“What’re we watching?”

“The original Sabrina. My favorite.”

“Huh.” He nods and we bump together as we walk down the grassy hill. “Never seen it.”

“That’s because you have no female influence to show you all the good stuff.”

“Oh, I have a female influence. My aunt is extraordinarily girly, but she likes German films. Super weird. And Meemaw watches Hallmark, so no thanks. Guess you’ll be my first.” He stops walking and looks down at me, shaking his head. “Uh…didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

I laugh but my blush goes through all my skin layers and down into my heart. “Guess we’ll stick to movies for now.”

We find the perfect spot by a tree behind a row of couples already snuggled under blankets, and I pull out mine.

“Kinda disappointed in my dino blankie now.” Marcus spreads out the blanket. “Yours is so sophisticated.”

I smile at the flowers and stripes. “It’s the longest one I could find. Trying to get used to this tall person stuff.” Kneeling, I open my satchel and pull out a family-sized package of Double Stuff Oreos, two small milks, two plastic bowls, and spoons.

Marcus’s eyes light up. “I didn’t think this night could get any better.”

“I do know a few things about the infamous Marcus Miller. Even though there’s one very important thing Imustknow before the movie starts.”

“Okay…” He lowers himself to the blanket and I check out his bum—which looks exceptional in those jeans—before he rolls to his side, facing me. “What do you desperately wanna know about me?”

“Promise you’ll be 100 percent honest?”

He frowns. “Uh, whatever you heard, I didn’t do it.”

I laugh and pull two bags from my satchel and set them in front of him. “Twizzlers or Red Vines?”

“Please.” He rolls his eyes and snatches the Red Vines, lifting onto his elbow to rip open the bag.

“That’s a huge relief,” I say, dropping the Twizzlers back into my bag. “This night can proceed as planned.”

He rips a piece of licorice with his teeth. “What would happen if I’d said Twizzlers?”

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