Page 45 of Part of Forever
“You do,” I whisper, as if saying the words quietly will stop the flood of emotions that’s pouring through my body.
“I only want you,” he whispers back. I can see the sincerity in his eyes. I feel it in his voice and with his hand in mine.
He deserves to be with someone who isn’t me.
I choke out a sob, feeling strangely emotional; normally what girls at school say about me doesn’t get to me, but tonight, it does. He pulls me to my feet, leading me through the ballroom, away from everyone who seems to be watching us and out into the cool air. We end up sitting in his truck. I don’t look at myself in themirror, but I’m sure my mascara has been cried off or is streaking down my face.
“Rosie,” he starts but I just shake my head. Nothing he could say will change anything. Have I been selfish, to keep him for myself? To love him and keep him close even though it’s going to kill him when I’ve gone to Paris?
These thoughts bring a fresh set of tears. I can’t even look at him. He’s holding my hand, a connection I don’t want to sever. My phone vibrates.Good, a distraction,I think, and pull it out of my bag.
Tucker
Ordinary by Alex Warren
I look at him as music fills the truck. It’s a song I know I’ve heard before, because it’s on our playlist, but I’ve never really listened to it.
Tucker starts singing along, staring straight at me as he does. My heart breaks into a million pieces, but it’s like he starts to pick them up and put them back together as he sings. The emotion in his voice is raw and I wonder if he’s going to start crying, but he just keeps looking at me and singing along.
I’m quiet when the song ends and a new one starts.
“I don’t want to be with anyone but you,” he says quietly. “I know that you love dance and that it’ll always be a big part of your life. Sometimes it makes me crazy when all you seem to think about is what you want.” His voice catches. “But I want to be with you. And it’s not true what she said, because you do care about more than just yourself, and anyone who knows you knows that.”
I nod, because I can’t seem to find words. I want to believe him, but Missy’s words won’t stop rattling in my head. Along with my own thoughts. I need to tell him the truth.
“Are you—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Yes, I’m sure.” He takes in a breath. “I love you, Rosie.”
“I think I love you, too,” I say and he just shakes his head, laughing.
“Seriously, you’re going to pull the ‘I think’ again?”
I start laughing too.
“Okay, okay, I do love you. I think.” We both laugh again, a feeling of calm settling over us. “I just don’t know how to be sure. I mean, I’m only eighteen. Can you really feel that way about someone at eighteen?”
“Yeah.” He sounds so sure. “You can.”
“How do you know?” I ask. My heart and head are both pounding. I’m exhausted and his confession feels so right, but it’s also making me second-guess everything. I need to tell him about the tumor.
“I know, because it’s how I feel about you,” he says and squeezes my hand three times. “When I do that, I’m telling you I love you.”
“I like that,” I say, and it’s true, because now we have something that’s just ours. A way to say how we feel without having to actually say it. Not that he really needs to say it; I can tell by how he looks at me—and how he treats me—exactly how he feels.
Tell him now.The thought startles me. I know I should tell him about the tumor. Tell him that it wasn’t my appendix they took out last week. But even with Missy’s outburst, tonight has been so good and I don’t want to ruin this moment. I will tell him the truth, just not yet. I don’t want to ruin tonight.
Instead, I say, “I love you, and I’m tired.”
“Well then, let’s get going,” he says. I close my eyes on the way home, paying attention to the music and the way his hand feels in mine. I open my eyes when we stop.
“This is your house,” I say, stupidly. Maybe he knows I have something else that I need to tell him, and this will be my chance.
He smiles. “Yeah, quick pit stop before I take you home.” He hops out of the truck and opens the door for me. “Come on.”
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, as if he’s got a million more surprises up his sleeve.
