The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted by J.A. Schreckenbach Page B

up. He said he liked being with a girl who was unabsorbed, who could talk about something other than herself. His eyes were always on Aimee while he devoured her words.
    It felt all too right, as if she would close her eyes and he would disappear, the evening a figment of her imagination. But Aimee was sitting next to him, their bodies touching while they chatted and laughed. All too quickly it was after midnight, time to return to Medford. As they drove back his fingers weaved into Aimee's, and she began to hum softly to herself. He laughed lightly and turned the radio down.
    “Happy?” he asked.
    “Happy,” she answered. If she was any happier she would burst. Aimee prayed he felt the same. This felt too good to be true, but hadn’t he been the one to break up with Brandi just a couple weeks ago? And Aimee now suspected this had something to do with her recent run in with Brandi. How could she compete with someone like her? But he had made his choice, and he wanted Aimee. She promised herself she would be happy as long as this would last.
    They pulled into the driveway and Dylan cut the engine. The glacial air outside beat against the windows, but the temperature inside was steamy. Aimee's breathing accelerated as he looked at her. Then without a word he leaned in and took her face into his hands. Their mouths were inches apart. Their eyes locked on each other.
    “May I?” he whispered. His sweet breath pulled Aimee deeper into his spell.
    “Yes,” she murmured helplessly. He took one long gaze into her eyes, then pressed his tender lips into hers, softly at first, then he moved his lips more passionately against hers. After a minute he pulled back, stared long into her eyes, then smiled. He turned and jumped out of the SUV.
    It took less than a second and he opened her door, taking Aimee's hand to help her slide out. They held hands as he walked Aimee to the door. Suddenly, the porch light flicked on bathing them in a yellow glow.
    “I think Dad’s still up.” She laughed imperceptibly. “Dylan, this evening was amazing. Perfect. You really know how to thank a girl.”
    “It’s my pleasure. I had an awesome time, too. Can I call you later?”
    “You bet. Call me anytime. You have my number.”
    He leaned in and kissed her lips quickly, lightly, with a twinkle in his eyes, then turned to leave. Aimee opened the front door. The hall was dark. She shut the door and leaned against it reliving the incredible details of the night. From the den a familiar voice startled her.
    “Did you have a good time?” Her dad was lying on the couch apparently waiting up for Aimee.
    “Yep, I did.”
    She strolled into the den where he was stretched out and lifted his feet, placing them on her lap as she sat down on the couch with him. Sitting in the dark, they continued the conversation. She told him that he would probably be seeing more of Dylan. It pleased Dad. She shared that Dylan had been offered a football scholarship at UC. He had plans to go pro, or maybe into law, like his stepdad. Dad was very pleased. Aimee also revealed Dylan's new FJ was a bribe from his father who lived in Portland. His dad was a die-hard West Columbia University alumni. He bought Dylan the FJ because Dylan was offered a full scholarship at West Columbia to play football. Much to his father’s chagrin, Dylan accepted the offer at UC. Aimee didn’t tell Dad that he intentionally took the offer to piss his father off. No need to tarnish his opinion of Dylan. Apparently the father-son relationship, at least on Dylan’s end, was strained. She suspected that might be the case when he told her he moved to Medford four years ago to live with his mother and stepfather even though he was born and raised in Portland and had a gazillion friends there and a super-rich dad who owned some really cool company with branches all over the world.
    “So it sounds like you really like this guy?” It seemed more like a statement than a question. Her dad was