but giggle. “I have no idea.”
“Think about it. Please.” His thumb rubs tiny circles on my hand.
I shrug my shoulders, “Um—” I would have said my friends, even Bryce, but in California I’d become something different. Now, I realize how silly I was because it was as if they were all that mattered. I didn’t care about school, about what was on TV, or most of all my parents. I only cared about what my friends and I had going on. They were my favorite thing, because with them I always felt I was a somebody. Shallow.
Now I’m realizing there is so much more out there beyond friends and parties. Embry has no one, and I understand a little bit about what that’s like. I’d rather be with him, just the two of us, because we matter, than be with a dozen people just as shallow as I was. You don’t need a whole bunch of people to show you are a somebody. You just need the right person to make you feel like you are. And right now, for me, that person is Embry. Dawsyn and Allison both enter my mind, and one day soon they might almost fit that bill, too.
“I honestly don’t know. But I’m hoping that living here will become something to add to the favorite list. However, my favorite breakfast is a nice big bowl of Apple O's. I’m pretty sure I could eat those every day. I love my car to pieces and my worn out collection of concert tees.”
Embry nods with what I think might be approval, but I’m so caught up in the idea of favorites, I don’t think before I ask, “What’s your favorite thing?” As the question slips out, and looms in the air, I realize my mistake. “Oh God. I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.” And I literally want to smack myself in the head.
“It’s okay. I’m not sure what the old me would have said but—but now—I think you’re my favorite thing in this world.”
“That’s cheating. You don’t have anything else to compare it to,” I say.
“All the more reason to believe it’s true.”
My breath hitches, body tenses up, and God , the surge of electricity I felt earlier rushes through my veins, lighting me on fire, again. And just when I think I can’t take any more heat, Embry cools my body off with an explosion of frigid iciness as he presses his lips gently against my forehead. The ragged breath I take comes out as a wheeze when I exhale, as I tilt my chin up, looking into his eyes. I’ve been rendered speechless.
Embry whispers, “Amazing.”
I nod. I’ve never been so over taken with emotion; it’s swelling in my heart, begging for him to kiss me again. To feel that sensation over and over. But just as I’m enjoying the high that Embry’s kiss brought, I realize it can’t last. Not really. Because one day Embry will be gone for good. Suddenly the desire that caressed my body is taken over with a depressing amount of misery. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t let myself get so attached.
It’s as if Embry realizes something is jammed inside my head, possibly being over analyzed because he asks, “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
Letting go of my hand, he traces the line of my eyebrow. “You are—thinking about something. You’re eyebrows were twitching—” he lightly drags his finger across my bottom lip, “—and you were gnawing on your lip.”
I lick my lip—sure enough, I taste coppery blood. Hope he can’t see the red that has flushed my neck.
“I was thinking about what’s going to happen to you, I mean after we figure out who you are.” I gulp. “I don’t think I want you to leave.” It’s a selfish admission but one full of so much truth it hurts.
Then as if it’s the most natural movement, an instinct I’ve developed over a long period of time, I move my head to rest in the crook of his arm. It takes a few breaths and the speeding up of my heart before my eyes grow wide with amazement, again. He’s so real. I expect his body to stiffen, for him to realize I’m even closer and pull away; instead he wraps
“Think about it. Please.” His thumb rubs tiny circles on my hand.
I shrug my shoulders, “Um—” I would have said my friends, even Bryce, but in California I’d become something different. Now, I realize how silly I was because it was as if they were all that mattered. I didn’t care about school, about what was on TV, or most of all my parents. I only cared about what my friends and I had going on. They were my favorite thing, because with them I always felt I was a somebody. Shallow.
Now I’m realizing there is so much more out there beyond friends and parties. Embry has no one, and I understand a little bit about what that’s like. I’d rather be with him, just the two of us, because we matter, than be with a dozen people just as shallow as I was. You don’t need a whole bunch of people to show you are a somebody. You just need the right person to make you feel like you are. And right now, for me, that person is Embry. Dawsyn and Allison both enter my mind, and one day soon they might almost fit that bill, too.
“I honestly don’t know. But I’m hoping that living here will become something to add to the favorite list. However, my favorite breakfast is a nice big bowl of Apple O's. I’m pretty sure I could eat those every day. I love my car to pieces and my worn out collection of concert tees.”
Embry nods with what I think might be approval, but I’m so caught up in the idea of favorites, I don’t think before I ask, “What’s your favorite thing?” As the question slips out, and looms in the air, I realize my mistake. “Oh God. I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.” And I literally want to smack myself in the head.
“It’s okay. I’m not sure what the old me would have said but—but now—I think you’re my favorite thing in this world.”
“That’s cheating. You don’t have anything else to compare it to,” I say.
“All the more reason to believe it’s true.”
My breath hitches, body tenses up, and God , the surge of electricity I felt earlier rushes through my veins, lighting me on fire, again. And just when I think I can’t take any more heat, Embry cools my body off with an explosion of frigid iciness as he presses his lips gently against my forehead. The ragged breath I take comes out as a wheeze when I exhale, as I tilt my chin up, looking into his eyes. I’ve been rendered speechless.
Embry whispers, “Amazing.”
I nod. I’ve never been so over taken with emotion; it’s swelling in my heart, begging for him to kiss me again. To feel that sensation over and over. But just as I’m enjoying the high that Embry’s kiss brought, I realize it can’t last. Not really. Because one day Embry will be gone for good. Suddenly the desire that caressed my body is taken over with a depressing amount of misery. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t let myself get so attached.
It’s as if Embry realizes something is jammed inside my head, possibly being over analyzed because he asks, “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
Letting go of my hand, he traces the line of my eyebrow. “You are—thinking about something. You’re eyebrows were twitching—” he lightly drags his finger across my bottom lip, “—and you were gnawing on your lip.”
I lick my lip—sure enough, I taste coppery blood. Hope he can’t see the red that has flushed my neck.
“I was thinking about what’s going to happen to you, I mean after we figure out who you are.” I gulp. “I don’t think I want you to leave.” It’s a selfish admission but one full of so much truth it hurts.
Then as if it’s the most natural movement, an instinct I’ve developed over a long period of time, I move my head to rest in the crook of his arm. It takes a few breaths and the speeding up of my heart before my eyes grow wide with amazement, again. He’s so real. I expect his body to stiffen, for him to realize I’m even closer and pull away; instead he wraps
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