“Are we—” He sounds genuinely nervous for the first time since we left the pool yesterday. “Together?”
“I…” I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t fishing when I said it. I didn’t think it through, didn’t weigh the words ahead of time and consider them for three days, like I usually would. This is the verbal version of spontaneously hiding that frozen fish in his room. Being in his bed is doing something to me. Or maybe he’s finally gotten me to lighten up.And look what it’s doing to you.
“I think we could be,” Asher says. “Should be,” he corrects himself.
“Yeah?” There’s a little flutter in my stomach, and I’m not sure if it’s telling me to go for it, or warning me that this is the worst idea ever. Right now, everything feels equal parts scary.
“Are you going to make me say it… officially, or something?” He says it like he’s being tormented, but there’s a certain warmth to his eyes that tells me he would. That the idea of it doesn’t scare him one bit. He’s so much braver than I am. I add it to the long list of things that Asher Marin surpasses me at.
“Like a prom-posal?” I smile thinking about how funny it would be to see Asher plan some sort of elaborate set-up to askme to be his girlfriend. Like the opposite of all of the pranks we’ve played over the years. “Did you ever do one of those?”
“Absolutely not.”
I squish up my nose in mock disgust. “Prom. Yuck.” But I am sort of surprised. Asher totally strikes me as the kind of guy who would do something elaborate and sweet for a girl. I think back to those stars on my ceiling.
Asher smiles. “I will, though, if you really want me to.”
I bite my lip to hold back the smile that would give away how incredibly giddy I am about the turn this trip has taken. “I don’t think we need to bring any more attention to ourselves while we’re still living in the same house.”
“Deal,” he says, but he looks unsure about it.
We lie in bed for another hour, until Asher leaves for the bathroom, and I contemplate how I went from coming here under duress to leaving with a boyfriend. Asher insists I shower first, and down the hallway, as I groggily stand in front of the sink,Will you be my girlfriend?is scrawled across the mirror in what has becomeourcolor.Red.The color of love notes, cherry Kool-Aid, and bleeding, broken hearts. The tube still sits on the counter—a much more expensive brand than our usual tube, obviously stolen from his mom.Sorry, Sylvie.
Before I get in the shower I pull the cap off of the tube, and write back one word, three letters. And just for now, I’m going to let myself not think about how badly this all could end.
DAY 41
Asher
I always imagined if Sidney blindfolded me and drove me somewhere, it would mean it was the end of the line. I’d finally pushed her over the edge, and she was driving me into the wilderness to drop me off for dead. I never imagined I’d be excited to be blindfolded. Of course, I never imagined that in this scenario she’d be taking me out on a date. Our fourth, her second. But this is our first date as an actual couple.
“On a scale of one to ten, how weird would you say I am?” Her voice is teasing, but this feels a little like a test, and I can’t help but wonder what I’ll miss out on if I get this wrong.
“Honestly?”
“Honestly,” she says, then quickly adds, “unless it’s higher than an eight. You shoulddefinitelylie to me if it’s anything higher than an eight.” She laughs and I relax a little—maybe this isn’t the serious thing I thought it was.
“A six.” I keep my voice serious. “But a hard nine for however long it took you to cover my bed in lemonade while I was drunk and defenseless.” She pushes my shoulder roughly just as my smile breaks through. It’s not as easy to keep myself in check with Sidney anymore. I feel like everything I’m thinking must be written across my face these days. “And if we’re being honest,then you were a straight-up twelve when you were hiding dead fish parts under my bed.”
“Well, the only reason I’m even going to show you this is because I know now what a weird little nerdyoureally are. Mr. Board-games-in-the-basement.” I wish I could see her face right now. Sidney talks with her face, giving away everything she’s actually thinking. It’s how I always knew she didn’t actually hate me. Or at least, that there was something under all of it that wasn’t hate.
She smacks me playfully across my arm and I think I’ve passed this test. I will live to see another day.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“No.”
“The blindfold was probably a bit much.”
“I thought you’d like it.” There’s teasing in her voice. It sounds like something I’d say to her.
“I’m not saying I hate it.” I pull at the fabric across my eyes. “It would be cool if it wasn’t covered in flowers, though.” I poke at the soft material. “Something a little manlier.”
“Sorry, my blindfold stash is surprisingly limited. I figured you had the self-confidence to pull off one of my mom’s scarves.”
We drive for another five minutes and I try to picture the turns as we make them. The trees passing us, the bridges we cross. In my mind is a map of where we are in town, and when the car comes to a stop and Sidney pulls the fabric away I am… not even close. We’re in a little parking lot with trees on one side, and a small park on the other. Sidney pushes out of the car without a word and I follow a few steps behind her as we enter the park.
“Are you taking me on a picnic?”
