Predawn found us walking hand in hand through my deserted street. In some recess of my mind, something said that the neighbors would let out their dogs soon and my parents would get up soon and that everything would be way smoother if no one spotted us, looking haggard like survivors from a shipwreck with stupid smiles glued to our faces.
It sounded suspiciously like the voice of reason.
I told it to jerk off. Everything I really cared for amounted to Trevor's warm hand in mine.
“I want you to come in,” I said when we stopped in my driveway. The words fell from my mouth without asking permission, and he laughed softly, his fingers reaching out to try and fix the mess my hair had become.
It must look hideous after tonight.
“I want to come in,” he said, his tone lingering.
“But it’s not a good idea, right?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been worrying my father sick lately. I think that getting up to find me gone in the middle of the night might be a bit too much to put him through.”
I pictured Mr. Bennett's anxious face when he had called me the last time, when he had nearly lost his son and had reached out to me like he was grasping for straws. It would be cruel to make him worry, now that everything was solved.
“You’re right,” I sighed.
“What time do you leave for school?”
“What? Ah, a quarter to eight. Why?”
He smirked and leaned in for a quick peck. “Give me half an hour to drop the guitar and leave a note to the old man. I’ll be back for breakfast, if you still want me.”
My heart caught in my throat, but I forced myself to appear nonchalant, arching an eyebrow. “Thirty minutes? That’s way too much.” I squeezed his fingers. “You give me five.”
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