“Of you?Always.”
I turn my face to hide the blush surely creeping up the side of my neck.
The couch is one of those modular ones that can be arranged in a myriad of ways.Today it’s configured like a giant bed with throw pillows galore.Carefully, I crawl to a spot at the center, facing the TV.Levi is in front of me, his mass an eclipse in front of the screen.Even as a shadow, he’s beautiful.Next week’s problem.Next week’s problem.
“Found it!”
I smile.“Was it lost?”
“Ha-ha,” he mocks, eyebrows raised.When he comes over and sits a full person’s length away from me, my insides have a silent pity party.I’m not sure what I expected, or even wanted to happen, but this is more space than between boys and girls at a sixth-grade dance.Using his feet, he pulls one boot off after the other, letting them fall to the floor in a heap.
“Are you ready?”
“What are we watching?”
“You’ll see.”The smile he flashes is new, or at least new to me.Gone is the salt and all that’s left is something sweet that presses against his eyes.I worry momentarily that the movie is a thriller—that seems to be a lot of guys’ go-to—but as soon as the opening credits play, there’s a tug of familiarity.
“Matilda?You were trying to find Matilda?”I ask, chin to chest, eyebrows in shock at the brim of my hairline.
“Have you seen it?”
“Of course...when I was seven.”A laugh tumbles out of me.This whole thing is surreal.
“If you don’t like it,” he says, using his forearms to roll himself down onto his side, head in my lap, “we can change it.”
Fifteen minutes in, the weight of his head against my chest sets off confetti in my head.The desire to be close, to touch, feels more like a necessity.I stroke his hair, folding the long strands behind his ear as Danny DeVito prepares to deliver one of the most famous lines in the movie.I start mouthing each word in unison with him, but Levi actually says it aloud.“I’m smart; you’re dumb.I’m big; you’re little.I’m right; you’re wrong.”
“You do really love this movie, huh?”
From this angle I see him smile but it’s not like before, the line of his mouth moving only a fraction.He exhales out of his nose in a big whoosh before turning to his side to face me.
“You know, when I was little, I thought I was Matilda.”
“You thought you were a girl?”
“No, dork.I mean, her dad reminded me of my dad, so in the mind of a child, I thought that meant I was bestowed the same magical powers.”His eyes are trained at the ceiling, but I doubt he sees anything.He looks far away.I continue to finger comb his hair at the part and his eyes close.
“So, do you?”
He opens them again, looking at me.“Do I...what?”
“Have powers?”I say, smiling.
He laughs.“Nah, I tried to make him yell at me like she does in the movie and all that earned me was a boot in my you-know-what.”
He reaches his arm up to scratch the side of his neck, turning so that his nose and mouth hover over my own.My own breath stutters and I command my body to not flinch.Act normal!But then he pulls up, taking all the delicious weight with him.Every cell in my body reaches out towards him, wanting to pull him back down, but instead, I watch in silence as he takes his seat way on the other side of the couch.Matilda is at her first day of school, but even the principal twirling a girl by her hair can’t pull me out of the internal misery I’m in.
“Tate.”
“Hmm?”I look over to where he’s sitting, doing my best to look normal.
“Your turn,” he says, and he claps his lap.I fight the smile threatening to expose me as I walk the distance over to him, laying my head on his chest.He repeats the gesture, smoothing his palms down the length of my hair.At some point I fall asleep there in his lap, awakened only briefly when he wiggles his way from under me and picks me up.
“I can walk,” I protest sleepily as he takes the stairs.
“I know you can, Tate.Just let me do this.”He lays me in my canopy bed, pulling the covers up and over my shoulder.I don’t open my eyes but can feel his presence.He kisses the top of my head before the sound of heavy steps grow quieter and quieter.
