“I’m not,” she says, her voice hard. “It’s just…” She shakes her head. “Never mind.”
I turn around and leave the kitchen. My anger at my mom leaves me like a slow leak while I get my stuff ready to look like I’m going to Tripp’s. By the time I’m walking out the door, I’ve forgotten about our hostility.
“Tripp,” I say into the phone as I pull out of the long driveway and onto a bigger street.
“Why are you calling so early?” His voice sounds like gravel.
“What time did you get home last night?”
“This morning,” he corrects, “and I don’t know. There was sun when I went to sleep. Just be happy you didn’t go out. Be happy you have sweet little Ember to keep your ass in line.”
Oh, I am. Happier than Tripp could ever know.
“Listen, I’m not going to prom tonight, and I need—”
“What? Why not? This is senior prom, man, and you’re nominated.”
“So are you. Just cover for me, okay? I’m at your house today, and I’m staying there tonight.”
Tripp starts making the high-pitched sounds of a girl climaxing. I think he’s been watching too much porn, because in real life it doesn’t sound like that.
“Grow the fuck up, Tripp.”
“Don’t get testy. I’m just fucking around. I’ll cover for you, and I’ll accept your crown, too.”
“You can keep it.”
“Gee, thanks, it’s what I’ve always wanted.”
Hanging up, I continue to drive. We could banter for hours, so it’s better to cut it off now before I get to Ember’s.
When I get to her apartment complex I keep going, turn the corner, and pull into the parking lot of a Vietnamese restaurant. Ember stands up from the curb when she sees me. I lean over and open the door for her.
“Hey, you,” she says, climbing in. When she leans over to kiss me, her scent fills my nostrils.
“I like how you do that,” I say, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Do what?”
“Kiss me first. You don’t wait to be kissed.” To Ember, this probably seems ridiculous. Why wait to have something you want if it’s available and right in front of you? But that’s not the way most people work, at least not in my experience. They are shy, unconfident, want to be wanted, or afraid of rejection. Not Ember. She’s comfortable in her own skin. It’s not that she doesn’t fear rejection. It’s more that she doesn’t fear going through the experience. She embraces it all. The shine, and the sting.
“Now can you tell me where we’re going?” She looks up at me through her lashes.
Taking advantage of the red light we’re stopped at I reach for her, winding my hands into her hair and rubbing my thumbs over the silkiness.
“Shmily?” I ask. She moves her head slowly one way, then the other.
The light turns green, and I release her. I want to keep her in my hands, but soon enough we’ll have all the time in the world.
“Settle in then, because I’m not telling if you won’t,” I reply. “We’ll be there in an hour and a half.”
* * *
“Noah, what is this place?”Ember leans forward and peers through my windshield. I watch her eyes as we travel slowly down the sloping street. Her gaze swings from home to home as we pass them by, and when I slip the car into the driveway of my parents’ beach house, her eye widen. White siding and a gray-blue roof with too many black-paned windows to count stare back at us. It’s not ostentatious, but it’s impressive. Grass grows in abundance, surrounding the house except for the driveway. I roll down our windows, allowing the roaring sounds of the Pacific ocean to fill the car. The churning water is just a short walk from the back door and over the sand dune.
I pull into the garage and kill the engine. “This is my parents’ second home.”
“Umm…yeah. Okay. Totally normal.” Her laugh is a bit unsteady.
