Charlie places a hand on my shoulder. I shrug him off.
Nan looks between us. “Well, I’m going to bed.”
“Let me help,” I say, reaching for her cane to pass it to her.
“No.” She gives me a hard look. “I’m fine, Alice.”
I pull back at her tone. I watch her until she’s in the bathroom, ignoring the pressure of Charlie’s gaze on my back. I stand there, without a glance at him, while Nan gets ready.
“Alice. Can you look at me?” Charlie says quietly.
I want to be mad at him. For hanging out with my grandmother without me. For the chip crumbs on the rug. For encouraging me to go on a date with his friend, and then infiltrating my mind all evening. But I don’t have to dig too deep to know what’s really bothering me. It’s the possibility that Nan and Charlie didn’t think I’d be up for a night of edibles and Ketchup Lay’s. That they think I’m no fun.
“Hear me out, okay?”
I take a deep breath and turn around. He’s standing far closer than I expected.
“Nan asked me to take her to the cannabis store in town after choir practice. I wasn’t trying to be deceptive. She’s been having trouble sleeping.” I didn’t know that. It explains why she’s been so cranky.
“The junk food was mostly for me,” he says. “I’ve been watching what I eat—sugar, especially—and I went a little overboard.”
I take him in. The collared shirt. The tidy hair. The apology on his face. I don’t know what to think about tonight. “Why are you dressed like that?” I ask instead.
He looks down at himself. “Like what?”
“Nice.”
His laugh is dry. “You thought I’d wear…what? A bathing suit? Sweatpants? To spend the evening with your grandmother?”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but his gaze rakes over me. My cheeks, pink from the wine. My hair, tousled from the breeze off the river. I’m still wearing Harrison’s hoodie. Something dark flits across Charlie’s eyes. Is he jealous? A surge of satisfaction rolls through me.
“You were out late.”
I shrug.
“How was the date?”
“It was nice.” I lift my chin, acting with confidence I don’t feel. “You were right—we have a lot in common.”
Charlie has gone still, but his eyes are stormy. “Oh?”
I can barely hear over the blood pounding in my eardrums. “I had a good time.”
His eyes descend to my mouth. “Cross off number five?” His voice is low, but I can hear the restraint in each syllable.
The two tumblers of wine have caught up to me. The week spent talking and swimming and staring at Charlie’s chest have caught up to me. I don’t think. I just lift the sweatshirt over my head and drop it on the floor. Charlie sucks in a breath, taking inthe dress and my neck and shoulders. I shake my head. “No, not yet. Not with him.”
“Alice.” He says my name carefully, like he’s keeping it safe. I find myself moving closer. We stand toe to toe, near enough for me to see that Charlie’s pupils have swallowed the flecks of gold. I feel a finger coast along my thigh, and then it’s gone.
“Charlie.”
I set my hands on his stomach. I feel his body brace beneath my palms as he stares down at me.
“You’re a bad influence,” I say. “But I can be a bad influence, too.”
He doesn’t budge as I rise on my toes, bringing our chests into contact, soft against hard. Charlie’s eyelids snap shut, and he inhales through his nose.
“Alice.” He whispers my name.
