He shifts to his side, and I do the same. We lock eyes.
With a slight smile, he asks, “Blakely, will you be my girlfriend?”
My lips widen from ear to ear, making it hard for me to form any words.
All I do is nod.
“Yes or no?” he beckons.
“Yes,” I whisper, and he pulls me into a kiss. My whole body feels light and content. It’s as if nothing in the world can change how I feel right now. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. His arms make me feel so safe. Safer than I’ve ever felt before. Like nothing in this world can tear us apart.
“You kids need to wake up.”I squint through a light flashing my way. “Wake up,” another man says.
Kai jerks back and looks up at the light. “What the fuck?”
“What the fuck is right. What are you kids doing out here so late?”
A sense of fear creeps in.
Shit.
It’s the cops.
All I can think about is my mom.
She’s going to kill me. Ugh. Maybe they will let us go. We were just sleeping; we weren’t doing anything wrong.
Kai reaches down and hands me my shoes. “What do you guys want?”
“We ask the questions around here.”
We’re both standing now. Kai is almost the same height as these men. I feel small. Smaller than I’ve ever felt before.
“What are you guys doing out so late?” the officer standing closest to me asks. He doesn’t look so mean. More worried than mean.
“We were hanging out. We must have fallen asleep and lost track of time,” Kai says.
“It’s three in the morning. Do your parents know you’re out here?”
“Yeah, they do. Like I said, we were hanging out. They probably fell asleep, thinking we had already come home. I should take her home. Thanks for waking us up.” Kai grabs my hand and takes a few steps away from the cops.
One officer puts a hand in the way of our path. “No. That’s not how this works.”
“Miss, do you know this guy?" he asks as creases pop up on his forehead.
My brows furrow. I’m honestly confused by his question.
“Yes,” I mumble.
“And do your parents know you’re out?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yes,” I say, although it’s probably less confident than necessary.
“I’m going to need both of your names and date of birth.”
We watch as one officer writes our information down on a pocket-sized notepad and walks to his car. I’m assuming he’s going to look us up. Can they even find information on minors?
“What were you guys doing?” the officer asks again, this time staring right at me.
