Page 2 of It Couldn't Be You
“Oh, no, my mom dropped me off,” I said, thinking of my little cherry red car all un-driven and parked outside my house.
“Wait, do you not have your license yet?” Gabriel asked from his spot sitting in the shallow end. I felt his eyes on me like a spotlight, making me a little skittish, and a little pleased.
“Not yet,” I said.
“Why? You always said you were going to get it right on the day you turned sixteen,” he said.
“She’s scared,” Katie said, waving her hand in the air as if to brush away her older brother’s question.
“Scared?” he questioned.
“Ah, you know, parallel parking,” I said, looking down at my blue flip flops.
“That’s all you’re scared of?” he asked. I shrugged as I kicked off my flip flops and sank into the deep end, a safe, agonizing distance from him.
“She can get it when she’s ready, Gabe,” Katie said, muffled from her face down on the outdoor lounge chair.
I dunked under the water, rising up to Gabriel, staring at me curiously. “What?” I asked, wiping the water from my eyes.
“Come on, let’s get you un-scared. Fifteen-year-old you would be appalled at this news.” He hopped out of the pool, splashing water all over the patio. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” I laughed nervously.
“Leave her alone,” a muffled Katie said, always my defender. I was waiting for her to click into her family’s tendency to call each other out in Spanish, trading names and insults I could barely understand.
“If you can parallel the beast, you won’t be scared to parallel any other car. Especially your little red thing,” he assured me, referring to his beloved truck as “the beast,” a new nickname he was trying out.
I rolled my eyes, wondering how I could drag out this special attention he was giving me.
“Okay, then.” He marched back into the pool and then, to my own thrill and surprise, slipped his hands under me and scooped me out of the water. I was acting appalled but pressed myself against his chest and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. I could feel his voice against me when he spoke, see his pulse racing in his neck.
His mom was laughing, finding the whole shtick entertaining, and Katie called out that she’d rescue me when the thirty minutes of tanning on her backside were complete.
He dropped me down in front of his truck. I landed on my feet with my face only inches—if that—from his face. Our noses could touch. My body was still tingling from where our skin had made contact.
“You sure are bossy,” I choked out, attempting to play it with some semblance of cool. A big ask for my awkward sixteen-year-old self.
“You sure are stubborn.” He stayed close to me, not moving at all, I noted, feeling the heat from his body.
“I’m standing here, aren’t I?” Water was dripping from my dishwater blonde hair all over us, and his hand brushed up against my waist. Goosebumps on goosebumps under the Texas sun.
“Because I carried you,” he countered. His hand touched my arm—gentle and intentional.
“I let you, didn’t I?”
His eyes were wicked as he said, “Yes, you did.” His voice suggested that me letting him carry me out maybe meant something. Maybe meant that I wanted him to.
My cheeks were red as a pepper because, yes, I definitely did let him carry me out. I was a willing accomplice in this whole flirty mess. I didn’t know what to say. My eyes locked on his. My whole body buzzed. He was a kiss away. I could reach out for his loose curl if I wanted to.
I couldn’t breathe a single breath. I could hear how uneven his breathing was, too. His hand was still on my arm. It felt like we were swept up in some buzzing current—swimsuits, warm skin, and us, just us two, alone.
Then his eyes dropped from my eyes to my lips. I felt my lips start to part because my body went on pure instinct when he was around. His other hand found my waist, pulling me in.
Suddenly, he backed away, shaking his head like he was trying to wake up from this dream. I went to speak, but he was already moving on, asking if I was ready for lessons. I was very much not ready for lessons. I was all breathless with wet hair, shaking hands, and very un-kissed lips.
“Keys are in the ignition,” he said playfully as he casually walked over to the passenger side of the car.
That Gabriel,I thought, trying to shake off this consuming, confusing moment as he apparently could.
