“Doyoulike it?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Your face looks different,” she said. “Your eyes are so big now.”
“My eyes are the same size.”
“I’ve got eye-witness testimony to the contrary.”
She stroked his scalp. Cary shivered. Shiloh laughed out a breath.
“Eye-witness,” she said, “get it?”
He nodded.
“Cary...” she whispered.
He lifted his gaze to hers. She looked nervous. She was swaying a little.
“I missed you,” she said.
“I missed you, too, Shiloh.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“It was just boot camp.”
“I know, but still. Is it weird that I didn’t even realize how much I missed you until I saw you again? Like, I saw you, and I realized I had a hole in my chest—when I’d thought all along I was fine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. I... I think I’ve just gotten used to talking to people who don’t matter. And then I looked at you and remembered what it felt like to care about someone.”
“Shiloh...” He squeezed her waist. “I’ve really missed you.”
“You’re lucky you have such a good head,” she said again. “Such a good face...” She touched his cheeks. His nose. His chin.
He wasn’t sure what game she was playing.
He wasn’t sure this was a game.
Shiloh looked like she might cry.
Cary leaned forward and kissed her.
Fifteen
before
It was February of their senior year. They’d stayed at school late to work on the newspaper. Then Cary had dropped Shiloh off at home—it had been a whole production, she was in rare form—and now he and Mikey were going to playStreet Fighterat Godfather’s.
As soon as Shiloh was out of the car, Mikey changed the radio station. “You guys don’t have to pretend for my sake,” he said, “you know?”
Cary backed the car out onto the street. “No, I don’t know. Pretend what?”
“That you’re not a thing. Secretlovers”—he said it likeluvvahs—“so to speak.”
“What are you talking about?”
