Page 101 of The Apple Tree

I kept my gaze on the road and fought to keep a straight face, but I liked the idea of being the Bonnie to his Clyde.

After my silence convinced him to give up on the corsage discussion, I flipped through the radio stations.

“Stop,” Kyle said. “Go back.”

I turned the dial.

“There.” He grinned and started singing the song. Of course, he was a better singer than me.

But I focused more on the words.

It was Chris De Burgh's“The Lady in Red.”

I knew the lyrics, but I let him sing them. No one had ever serenaded me. And I wanted to know if he would sing the entire song because the last line would mean everything to me if he whispered it the way Chris did. As the end approached, I held my breath.

He sang the second to the last line.

My heart flipped and flopped in my chest.

And then he sang the last line, whispering it like in the song.

“I love you.”

I didn’t look at him because I was afraid he might roll his eyes or smile in a way that made it clear he was just singing lyrics. My heart latched on to hope, and I refused to let my mind ruin it.

When we arrived at the theater, I felt like a princess with my prince at my side, opening doors, resting his hand on my lower back, and something in his expression that felt like pride.

He was proud to have me on his arm.

His lady in red.

We caught plenty of looks being so overdressed for a movie, but it didn’t matter because his gaze was the only one that mattered to me.

“Butter?” he asked, ordering our popcorn.

I nodded, finding it impossible to control my grin, and he gave me an extended glance as if my excitement was contagious.

“Come on, gorgeous.” He handed me the popcorn while he stuck the candy boxes in his jacket pocket and carried our drinks.

No one had ever called me gorgeous.

When we found seats in the middle of the theater, an older couple behind us smiled as we sat down.

“Your dress is beautiful,” the lady said.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

She glanced at Kyle. “You’re a lucky man.”

It was too much for my young heart. We were secret lovers in Devil’s Head, but at the movie theater in Filmore we were a couple. I never wanted to go home.

“Thank you,” Kyle said. “I agree.” As soon as we sat in our seats, he leaned toward me, lips at my ear. “The luckiest,” he whispered.

We ate our popcorn and candy and watched the movie. Had I not met Kyle Collins, I would have envied Frances Houseman’s character. I would have watched the movie with Erin, and we would have left with our hearts stolen by Johnny Castle.

The movie was good.

My love story was better.

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