“Abother?” He closed the space between us. “God, Abigail. It’s not abother.”
“It’s not?” I looked at him warily.
He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Why would it be a bother?”
My whole body trembled from trying to hold myself together. “I don’t have any interest in being with someone who isn’t into me, or who thinks I’m being clingy. If you thought I’d be a chill hookup because I said I wanted a fling, I’m sorry. But I’m not feeling very chill. Honestly, I think hooking up isn’t going to work for me because I want more.”
“Abigail. So do I.”
“You—what?”
“Ilikeyou.” He swept the hair out of my face, hand lingering on my cheek. “You did notice we’ve been going on dates, right?”
“Um.” I starred up into his warm brown eyes, feeling utterly confused and uncertain and a tiny bit wonderfully hopeful. “Maybe?”
“We went out to lunch and we went to the party and we’re picnicking today?”
“But—it’s August. You leave for school in two weeks.”
“Cambridge isn’t so far away from South Hadley.”
“You shouldn’t go to college with a partner. Everyone knows that.”
“Who’s this everyone?”
“You know. Everyone.” I lifted a shoulder. “College is for making new friends and experimentation and reinventing yourself. You don’t want to be tied down. Didn’t you break up with your ex because you didn’t think a college student should date a high school kid?”
He studied me. Then he picked up my hand and started tracing the lines. “I broke up with Erika because we’d outgrown each other, not because of some arbitrary college/high school thing. And besides. Here’s something I’ve learned from a very smart girl.” He smiled at me, steady, serious. “Sometimes you should do whatyouwant to do, not what everyone else thinks is correct.”
I let out a strangled laugh. “Practical advice for majors and life goals. It wasn’t about—I don’t know, feelings.”
“I’d argue feelings are practical. Emotional well-being matters, doesn’t it?” He cupped the back of my neck. “I want to date you, Abigail Schoenberg. Do you want to date me?”
I swallowed. There were so many reasons this didn’t make sense and would fall apart, but right now, none of them mattered. “Yes.”
“All right, then. We’re dating. Why are you fighting this so hard?”
“I don’t know,” I said despairingly. “I mean, I do. Honestly, your family freaks me out a little. And I’m nervous you might mean it now but you won’t mean it in a few weeks when you go to school.”
“Then we check in and if we want something else, we want something else. We don’t stop ourselves because of what wemightwant, in the future.” He smiled at me. “We live in the present, Abigail Schoenberg. We commit.”
“Okay. Okay.” I breathed out. “I want that. I want you.”
“Yeah?” A small smile curved his lips and grew, and grew.
“But what about your family?”
“My family isn’t dating you.”
“Your grandmother thinks I’m going to break your heart. She thinks we’re going to repeat the mistakes your grandfather and my grandmother made.”
“I have a solution, then,” he said lightly. “Don’t break my heart.”
A sudden, horrible premonition rose in me. You couldn’t promise not to break someone’s heart. I knew that. And I also knew Noah believed, absolutely, if you loved someone, you did anything to make your relationship work.
“We’re not going to make the same mistakes as our grandparents,” I said. Weweren’t. We were going to get a happy ending.
He pressed his lips against mine, soft at first, then hot and undeniable. “All right, then. Let’s make our own.”
