Page 23 of The Heart That Breaks
“Why not?”
“There’s one obvious one.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not used tonotgetting what you want.”
“Ouch.” I start to deny it, even as I wonder if there’s any truth to the accusation.“I just think we’d have a good time. That’s all.”
“And I’m back to the dress thing.”
“That’s an easy fix.”
“For you. Not for me.”
“It’s really not a big deal, Ann-Elizabeth. Only if you make it one.”
The tardy bell rings, and she moves away from the locker. “I’m going to be late. I have to go.”
“Can I take that as a yes?” I yell after her as she heads down the hall.
She turns around to smile at me. “No.”
I hear her say it, but something tells me I’m a little closer to yes than I was last night. “I’ll take that as progress,” I call back.
She laughs, and shaking her head, takes off running.
*
Ann-Elizabeth
I’M SITTING WITH my back against Henry’s plastic barrel doing my Trig homework with a flashlight when I hear a vehicle stop at the bottom of our driveway. I glance up to see the lights switch off. The engine goes silent. I peer into the dark, trying to make out who it is.
A door opens, clicks shut. Henry rumbles a low growl.
Feeling a stab of unease, I consider going inside, but immediately decide I’m not leaving Henry to face whoever it is alone.
“Ann-Elizabeth?”
Again, the whisper breaks through the darkness, and relief floods through me. I shine the flashlight in the direction of his voice. “Nathan?”
“Yeah. Can I come up?”
Henry is no longer rumbling, recognizing him from last night. “What are you doing here?”
He’s standing a few feet away now, a garment bag in his arms. “I would have called first, but I don’t have your number, and I couldn’t find you on Snapchat.”
“I don’t have a cell phone.”
Clearly surprised, he says, “Oh.”
“I’m probably the only teenager in America, right?”
He steps closer, leans in to rub Henry under the chin and says, “I’m sure there are a couple others.”
“We’re a select few. So where’s your bike?”
“Thought I’d make better time in my dad’s Jeep. And I got a late start.”
