Here by Denise Grover Swank Page B

as I grab my Pop Tart breakfast. “You look very pretty,” she murmurs, lifting the cup to her mouth.
    “
Thank you.”
    “
Do you have tutoring today?” She keeps her focus on the computer screen.
    “
Yes, I have tutoring every day except for Friday.” Irritation makes my words bristly. “Evan doesn’t tutor me every day, just so you know. I have another tutor, too. Maryann. A girl.” Brilliant, Julia .
    Mom chuckles. “Sorry. I was just curious. I also wanted to remind you that you have an appointment with Dr. Weaver tomorrow after school. Unfortunately, I can’t get off work.” She looks up and uses her I-mean-business voice. “I think it’s time you start driving again.”
    I take a step back, bumping into the counter. “No.”
    “
Julia, you have to go to this appointment and I can’t get off work. With your father gone…”
    The mention of my father screws my conviction deeper. “Okay. I’ll figure it out.”
    “
The longer you wait to drive, the harder it’s going to be.”
    “
I know.” I put on my coat and pick up my backpack, heading for the door. “I’ve got to go.”
    “
I love you, Julia.” Mom calls after me. I hear the wistfulness in her voice, wishing things were the way they used to be.
    I stop and take a deep breath but can’t bring myself to face her. Things will never be the way they used to be. “I know, Mom. I love you too.”
    I walk out the front door and immediately wish I’d brought an umbrella. A fine mist falls, damp and cool enough to make me uncomfortable, but not heavy enough to soak through my coat. I’ve left a few minutes early, but instead of waiting on the porch, I start down the sidewalk. It’s better this way. There’ll be too many questions if Evan picks me up in front of the house.
    He’s either running early or eager to see me. I’ve only begun walking when his dark blue car turns onto my street and pulls up to the curb next to me. The passenger door swings open and his head comes into view. “What are you doing? Why are you walking?”
    “
I was ready early,” I say as I climb in. “I needed to get out of the house.”
    “
Bad morning?”
    I turn to him and smile, amazed he’s really here picking me up. “No, not any more.”
    His face lights up. “You’re beautiful.” He takes my hand and strokes the back of it with his thumb.
    The hair on my arms stands on end and my stomach flutters. “Shouldn’t we go to school now?”
    He cups my face with his free hand. “No, not yet. Let me look at you first. I haven’t seen you since yesterday.” The way he gazes at my face, I’m glad I put the effort into applying makeup.
    He’s so close all I can see are his eyes, clear blue with a few black specks scattered here and there. His thumb, rough and calloused, rubs across my lower lip.
    The air in my lungs grows stale. I release my breath in a whoosh then cast a glance over my shoulder to see if Mom’s watching. The front window looks clear. “I think we should go or we’ll be late.”
    “
Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He pulls away from the curb still holding my hand. “What’s your first class?”
    I look at him from the corner of my eye. How much do I really know about this boy? It’s odd that he’s so interested in me yet we don’t even know each other’s schedule.
    “
What’s your favorite color?” I ask.
    His eyebrows raise in surprise. “What does that have to do with your first class?”
    “
Nothing, it’s just we hardly know anything about each other. How can you be so sure you like me when you hardly know me?”
    He looks alarmed. His grip on my hand tightens as though he thinks I’ll jump from the car. I give an involuntary jerk and his face softens and he loosens his hold. “My favorite color is blue. I like hamburgers but not pickles—can’t stand them. Running helps me relax.”
    “
What’s your favorite TV show?”
    The surprise is back for a millisecond before he smiles. “I don’t watch TV. I