Papa shakes his hand back and then leans forward to kiss me on the forehead. “You look just like your mother did at your age. Have fun, sweet girl.”
I’m not going to cry. I’m totally not.
A couple of my uncles walk over to Graham and start arguing over one of the boxes. I guess after getting a good look at Paolo they want to change their bet.
“Can’t give you that one,” Graham says. “Aunt Kelsey already claimed it.”
I try to ignore their ridiculousness.
With my hand still in his, Paolo pulls me through the foyer and out the front door. We’re headed down the brick path to where his car is parked on the street when I look toward Wes’s house. He’s still in the driveway—and still has his shirt off—but he’s holding the ball against his hip, watching us.
His eyes catch mine and he gives me a small nod. I nod back and then slide into Paolo’s car, where he’s holding the door open for me.
“So that’s probably the most nervous I’ve ever been picking up a girl in my life,” Paolo says once he’s in the car.
“Seriously? It didn’t show,” I say. If that was him nervous, I can’t imagine what confidence must look like.
He looks at me, just before he cranks the car. “There were just so many people.”
I laugh. “Welcome to my world.”
We pull away from my grandparents’ house. I refuse to look back to see if Wes is still watching. Instead, I turn toward Paolo. “Okay, I’m just going to ask. Why on earth did you not already have a date to this party? I mean, is there something I should know?”
He laughs. “Straightforward. I like it.”
I don’t think he’s going to say anything else, but then he clears his throat.
“There’s this girl,” he starts.
“There always is,” I say, and he laughs again.
“I moved here halfway through high school, but I didn’t meet her until we were at LSU, even though she’s from here. Things are complicated. I thought that maybe when we were both back on break, some of the issues we’re having might work themselves out, but it’s not looking too good.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. I want to add,I’m sure it will work out!but it sounds lame. And I’m certainly not in any place to give anyone relationship advice. I stare out the front window, and Paolo glances at me once, then twice. “So what’s this Sara was telling me about all the blind dates?”
I say, “It’s complicated,” and he laughs again. “I overheard my boyfriend telling his friend that he wanted a break from me because senior year is supposed to be fun.”
“Ouch. What a dick.”
“Yeah. So this was Nonna’s idea of cheering me up.”
Paolo slows at a red light and turns toward me. “Is it working?”
I cock my head to the side. “It’s been different. And I’ve had some really weird and some really fun dates. My ex keeps seeing pics of me dating on social media, and since I’m not curled in a ball, bawling my eyes out, he’s begging to see me, to talk to me. So I guess it’s working.”
The light is still red and Paolo leans a little closer. “Then this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to flood his timeline with pictures of us having fun tonight.”
A car behind us honks as the light turns green, and Paolo returns his attention ahead. I’m glad he misses the ridiculous smile stretching across my face.
“Okay, but I don’t want to do anything that makes things more complicated for you.”
“Don’t worry about me. The ball’s in her court. She knows I’m ready when she is. I’m just glad I didn’t have to go to this thing alone.”
I’ve decided whoever this girl is, she’s a dummy. He’s cute and nice and genuine, and she’s an idiot. “So where did you move here from?”
“Cabo Frio, which is a small town near Rio in Brazil.”
“Oh wow. Do you like it here?”
