She laughed, moving it all aside. “I saw something like this on one of the TV shows in the hospital. They knocked things off the table while they were kissing. My mom shut it off.”
“I should log you into my Netflix account,” I said. “There’s plenty to see there.”
“On the phone?” She rolled next to me and we lay on our sides, face to face.
“Sure. We could watch something together.”
“Not during our real time,” she said, leaning in again.
She was right, as always. We could watch things when we were apart, in our separate houses, separate lives.
Her long skirt tangled in my legs as we kissed. She dressed from another era, but that didn’t matter to me. I ran my hands along her shoulder, her arm, her waist. She rolled on top of me, our bodies touching everywhere. There was no controlling my reaction to her.
If she noticed, she gave no indication, and her weight settled on top of me.
My pulse raced. I’d never been in this position with anyone.
A cold wind rushed beneath the playscape and sent her shivering. She snuggled in close, tucking her head into my neck.
I drew her tightly against me. My heart hammered hard, and I knew she could hear it. She fingered the pocket of my shirt over my chest. “We only have two months to wait.”
I wondered what she meant. To go farther? Should I stop?
She went on. “I’m going to wake up that morning, my bag already packed, and I’m just going to walk out. I don’t care about Mother’s presents or cake or anything. I’m going to go right out the door, and she won’t be able to do a thing about it.”
Her birthday. That was what she meant.
“I’ll be there. I’ll pick you up.” I wasn’t sure what I would do with her. Gram encouraged our relationship, even with Ava sneaking out. But she wouldn’t necessarily be keen on my girlfriend moving in.
It didn’t matter. We would figure it out. We had some time.
“I’ll keep dreaming about that day until it happens,” Ava said.
I kissed her forehead. “Me, too.”
My phone buzzed. It was Bill.
On our way back. I’ve already blown Sarah’s curfew.
Our time was up again.
We kissed one more time, lingering and long, then picked up the scattered picnic.
Ava snuck out a few more times over the next weeks. We took walks. Ate pizza. Soaked up each other’s presence. On my eighteenth birthday, Ava, Bill, Sarah, Carlos, and I sent balls skittering into pins at a twenty-four-hour bowling alley.
It worked, but she still lived in her mother’s grip. She wasn’t in school, had no job, no experience. She’d been kept from learning about money, budgets, rent, and basic survival. Even if she left when her birthday arrived, she wasn’t sure how to fill her own prescription or what to do about health insurance, which she’d never heard of before I told her.
But I wanted to save her.
With no more seizures, I got my driver’s license reinstated. I wouldn’t get behind the wheel often because of the risk, but I wanted that right.
Gram handed me the keys a month before my high school graduation. I could tell she was worried. I assured her I would hit the hazard lights and pull over if I felt the tiniest bit weird, and I would take side streets rather than the freeways, just in case.
My urgency to see Ava whenever I wanted was more important than anything. She’d be eighteen in June, and she’d need me to help her build a life away from her mother.
The night I drove over to Ava’s house by myself, I felt like the king of the world. I parked Gram’s car around the corner and waited.
Ava didn’t come out.
