My eyes close, and for a moment I wonder if I'm back in my dream from this morning, or if I'm hallucinating. Oh my God, please let me be hallucinating. I turn around slowly, hoping he'll have disappeared. But he's not gone. He's standing just in front of me, a drink in hand. And he somehow looks even hotter than he did the last time I saw him. He's wearing a blue Beatles t-shirt this time, which makes the blue of his eyes pop. He's still wearing skinny jeans, but these ones have a hole in the knee, and he's got those converse sneakers on his feet. The leather camera strap is hanging over his left shoulder, the camera resting against his hip. His hair is a bit disheveled, but in that purposeful way that is incredibly attractive. I bite my lip, and then release it. I don't want him to think he makes me nervous. Which he so does.
"Hi," I reply, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Umm... what are you doing here?" Oh my God, could I sound anymore rude? I try to recover. "I mean... isn't this party supposed to be a post-Lake City High School graduation party?" He definitely did not go to Lake City. I would have known for sure. I swallow nervously as he stares at me, a crooked smile playing on his lips. Does he know how he affects me? Is he doing it on purpose?
"Oh, well," he says, shuffling his feet, "I just met the dude who's running this party a couple days ago. Wes?" I nod my head, and he continues. "Right. Well, I met him at the beach, and we hit it off. He called me and invited me to his graduation party." Wow. So Wesley, after knowing this guy for just a couple days, decided to invite him to a party where he would be surrounded by people we've all known for years. This guy must have a weird affect on everyone. And he's still smiling at me. "Anyway, how are you?"
I give him a shaky smile. "I'm good. Just here with some friends. Celebrating our freedom from the mundanity that is high school." He blinks, and I'm again struck by how long his eyelashes are. It makes him look so deliciously sexy and sensitive. Mysterious. Like his eyelashes are the curtains guarding his soul. "So... how's your chest doing?" WHAT? I DID NOT JUST SAY THAT TO THIS GUY! His eyes widen, and I continue. "You know... after you fell off your skateboard?"
"Oh God," he says, and he closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I still can't believe I did that. I must've looked so dumb, right?" I shake my head, but I can't speak. He takes my breath away. Why does he take my breath away? "Thanks for helping me though. You probably saved my life."
I laugh nervously. "I wouldn't go that far. It was just a few scrapes."
"Yeah, but they could've gotten infected," he whispers, and I wonder if he's trying to be this alluring. "And then I could've ended up dead. I really owe my life to you." I feel my face growing hot, and I hope he can't see. He smiles. "I should really do something to repay you for all your kindness." My eyes widen. Is he about to ask me out? "What do you drink? Beer? Rum? Tequila?"
"Pop, actually," I reply. He looks at me quizzically. "I'm the DD. So... diet pop. But it's okay. My friend Sam left a little bit ago to get me a drink."
His face falls, just like it did during our first encounter. Again, I can't help but wonder why. "Damn. Okay, well... maybe next time, right?"
"Right," I say, and I see him step away to leave me. But I don't want him to leave. I want him to keep talking to me. Man, I must be a glutton for punishment. Every time I open my mouth in front of this guy I sound like a moron. But I like him. Really like him. And I want him to keep talking to me. I want to be one of those girls who can hold his attention. My heart thrashes around like a toddler having a tantrum, and I lick my lips. "Okay, well... yeah, I guess I'll—"
"Hey," Sam says breathlessly. I turn around and see her holding a red solo cup. She hands me my diet pop, and I take a nervous sip. "Sorry," she pants, and I can see her eyes are red. "I didn't mean to take so long. I ran into Kev and Claire in the hall." Uh oh. "Would you be okay if I leave?" she asks, and I silently curse Claire. "Like, would you mind being Claire's DD tonight? I just want to go while I'm still sober."
I do mind, but I'm not going to tell Sam this. It's not her fault. A bubble of anger and disappointment rises in me when I think of how Claire just broke the pact we've had in place since middle school. And now I have to stay and make sure she makes it home okay, even though her actions tonight have been really stupid and selfish. I didn't even want to come to this party to begin with, and now I wish I never would've come at all. "No, I don't—," I say, but mystery man interrupts me.
"Wait a minute," he says, and his eyes look Sam up and down. A blast of something like jealousy rises up inside of me. I want his eyes on me, not her. "You... you're Sam? The Sam?"
Sam looks at him, and her brow furrows. "Yes. I am the Sam." She turns her attention toward me, but I just shrug my shoulders. "And you are?"
He laughs. Really laughs. My stomach does somersaults. I tuck another loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude. I'm a friend of Counter Girl's here." He gestures toward me with his head, and it's all I can do not to cover my face with my hands and run away.
"Counter Girl?" she asks, and there's the first hint of a smile on her face. He's cheering her up! How does he do that?
"Oh yeah," he says, and he puts his arm over my shoulders. Oh my God. He smells so summery. Like sunscreen and smoke. I can't breathe. I can't think. I just stand there like a deer in the headlights. "Counter Girl and I... we go way back. She's a hero, you know. She saved my life once."
"Did she?" Sam says, folding her arms across her chest and cocking her head to the side. Oh God. What is she thinking? "How did she do that exactly?"
The mystery guy's eyes widen dramatically. "It was just an ordinary day. I was soaking in the summer sun, riding along the sidewalks of downtown Coeur d'Alene on my skateboard. Probably breaking a law or two. And then it happened." He leans in, and Sam blinks, surprised. "I totally biffed it. It was really embarrassing and horrible, but Counter Girl here," again, he gestures toward me, "saved me. I stepped into her shop, bleeding all over the place, and she kindly saved me from infection with a handy dandy first aid kit she had stored behind her counter. She's my superhero."
"Hmm, that is quite a story," Sam says. She looks at me again, and her eyes shine with mirth. "Well, I'm glad she was there to save the day."
"Yeah, me too," he replies. Then he looks at me, and I burn with humiliation. "I've been trying to figure out what her name is. Every superhero has to have a secret identity, right?" Sam nods. She would know. "You wouldn't be able to help me with my mission, would you?" he asks.
Sam grins. "Well, to the world she's Counter Girl. But to her closest friends she's known as Lauren."
I look over at him and see he's watching me. "Lauren," he whispers. I'm sure he can see my blush. I'm sure he can feel the heat radiating off of me. But he doesn't acknowledge it at all. "What a pretty name." He removes his arm from my shoulders, steps in front of me, holds out his hand, and says, "It is really nice to meet you, Lauren. I'm Conner." I take his hand, and again I can feel the electricity flowing between us. Just like when he touched me at the store. Can he feel it, too?
"Hi... umm... Conner," I say, practically stuttering on his name. It's so perfect for him. He actually looks like a Conner. I don't know why I didn't guess it on my own. He holds my hand for a few seconds too long, like he doesn't want to let go. But he does, eventually, and then he shoves his hands in his pockets. His face is still full of humor, but I see something else there, too. I'm not quite sure what it is. But I see it when he looks at me. He stares into my eyes for a few seconds, and I feel like we're having a moment.
"So, hey," Sam says, and I jump. I've forgot she was here for a second. "I think I'm going to leave. Don't want to be a third wheel to the love birds in there." I can see the tears in her eyes again, and I feel the anger rise in my chest. But I really wish she would stay. We could still have fun just the two of us. But I can also see she's too upset and hurt to stay. "Are you sure you're okay if I take off?"
I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off. "Of course, she is!" Sam's eyebrows rise. "Don't worry about Counter Girl. I will take good care of her. Scout's honor." He does a weird salute, and I cover my mouth to hide my laughter.
Sam gives me a look that says she's concerned, but I just shake my head. "No. Yes, you can leave. I'm fine. And I'll make sure Claire gets home okay." She nods her head, and I give her a reassuring smile. "Hey... it'll be okay, all right?"
She nods her head and gives me a quick hug, then whispers into my ear. The music is so loud that I don't quite hear what she's saying. But I do make out the words "tongue" and "throat" and I feel my blood start to boil instantly as I picture Claire with Kev's tongue down her throat. Sam must be so hurt. I can't believe that Claire would do something like this to her. She pulls away, and I can see that the tears are about to fall. "I just need to be alone right now. So thank you. I love you."
"I love you, too," I reply, and I watch her turn and walk away, leaving me alone with Conner the Crazy Good Looking. I look back at him and find that he's still watching me with that look. What does that look mean? Oh man, I want to know so badly. I cough and say, "So listen, you don't have to hang around me all night. I mean, if there's something else you'd rather do. This isn't the first time I've been as the DD, and it probably won't be the last."
"No way," he responds as he shakes his head vigorously. "You are so not getting off that easy. Besides, I made a promise to your lady friend to protect you, and I am bound by my promise. I said Scout's honor. Do you know what that means for a guy?" I shake my head, and he leans in. "It means I would do anything to save you. I will protect you with my life. On my honor as a man and a gentleman." His breath smells like strawberries, and I'm brought back to my dream about him from earlier this morning. It's so sweet. He's so sweet. How can a guy be so sweet and so delectably good looking? Isn't there some kind of law?
"All right, well," I pause and look at my feet awkwardly. "What should we do, then?"
"Hmm," he says. "That's a good question. Well, you already have a drink. Should we get some food? I think someone's cooking hot dogs and hamburgers somewhere out here." I give him a shy smile and nod my head. "Great" He claps his hands and rubs them together. "Food! Sounds great!"
He starts walking toward the house, and I don't know what else to do other than follow him. The noise has died down a bit, but I don't think it's because people are leaving. I think it's because he's here, and my attention is on him rather than the noise. He turns and smiles at me, and I feel butterflies in my stomach. We walk really close together, and a few times I think about taking his hand. But I barely know him, and that would be really forward. Still, the few times that our hands do touch, always by accident, I have to keep myself from melting into a puddle of goo. I don't know what it is about him. He's just special.
We make it to the grill, where Wesley is cooking up hamburgers and hot dogs. He grins when he sees Conner and says, "Hey, man! How you doing? You enjoying the party?"
"Much better than I expected it to be," Conner replies, and he looks over at me. I fight a blush again. "Remember the girl I asked you about the other day?" Wesley nods his head. "Well, I found her." He steps aside and stretches his arms out in presentation. "May I introduce the lovely Lauren!"
Wesley laughs, and I don't know if he's laughing at the situation or at the fact we've known each other for years. "Lauren and I have a met a few times, actually. How you doing?" he asks me. "I didn't really expect to see you here."
"Oh, well," I say, "Claire and Sam wanted to come. And then Claire decided to hook up with Kev, and Sam had to leave." I say it with more bitterness than I intended, and Wesley's smile falters slightly. "But I'm having more fun than I expected. Thank you."
He sighs and flips a burger. "Yeah, it was actually Kev's idea to throw this party. He hooked up with Claire as soon as she got here and left me to flip burgers and hot dogs all night. Nice guy, huh?" There's bitterness in his voice, too, which makes me feel kind of bad for him. Claire probably isn't intending to be a bitch, and she's actually usually pretty great. Kev is an asshole all the time, to everyone. Including his best friend. I have no idea why Wesley, who is such a great guy, puts up with him. He shakes his head, looks up at Conner and me, and says, "So, hot dog or hamburger? What are you having?"
Conner looks at me expectantly, and I clear my throat nervously and say, "Hot dog, please." Wesley nods his head, takes a pair of tongs, picks up a hot dog from the grill, and puts it in a hot dog bun. Then he puts it on a plate and hands it to me. "Condiments are over there on the next table. We have ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, relish, onions, tomatoes, lettuce... all the fixings for a good dog or burger." I nod my head as he flips another burger, then looks up at Conner. "What are you having, man?"
"I'll have what the lady's having," he says, and Wesley smirks knowingly. Jeeze, it's like they're already the best of friends. Like they already know each other's deepest, most well-kept secrets. Wesley hands Conner a hot dog, and Conner nods his head and says, "Thanks, man. We'll fix up our dogs and come right back. Keep you company." He turns and looks at me. "If that's okay with you?"
I swallow and tuck another loose strand out of my hair, then watch as his smile wilts for a fraction of a second. "Yup. That's fine with me." And just like that, he's grinning again. We both wave at Wesley, who waves back, and walk over to the condiment table. I watch him put a ton of mustard on his dog. I expect him to add more stuff to it, but that's it. Nothing else. Just mustard. I shake my head in wonderment and reach for the ketchup. I squirt a little on the left side, then squirt a little mustard on the right. Down the middle I form a line of onions and a line of relish.
"Wow, you like a lot of stuff on your dogs," he says, his mouth hanging open in surprise.
"Well, there is more to the world than mustard," I say teasingly. Whoa. Where the hell did that burst of confidence come from? "I mean... well, not that mustard isn't great or anything. I like it, too."
"Yeah, I can see that," he says, taking a huge bite of his hot dog. He chews it up and swallows it, and I watch his jaw move. Even when he's eating, he's so hot. "But you don't like mustard like I do. I don't think anyone does, to be honest. I'm a mustard freak. That's all I get on my burger, too, if you can believe it."
"You don't get cheese or anything else?" I ask him. He shakes his head, his mouth too full of food to respond. "Wow. That sounds ridiculously boring."
He smiles and swallows his second bite. His dog is already almost gone. "All right, Miss Foodie, what would you put on your ideal hamburger?"
"First of all," I say as we walk back over to Wesley and take a seat at the table closest to him, "I call them cheeseburgers. Because I like cheese on them."
His eyebrows move up to his hairline. "Haters gonna hate," he says, and I laugh. "But please, continue."
"With the cheese, I also put a bit of lettuce on it." He makes a face, but I don't let him stop me. "Then I put green chilies on it. Then mayo, mustard, ketchup. Pickles and onions. Oh, and tomatoes! We can't forget the best part!"
"Man," he says, "is there anything you don't put on your ham... I mean... cheeseburger? Sounds like you like everything."
I shrug my shoulders and take my first bite. Not as big as his, but only because I want to be able to talk. I put my hand over my mouth and say, "I do. I'm a lover of food. Period."
"Hmm, a lover of food." He falls silent for a minute as I swallow and take another bite. He's just watching me eat. But I guess his hot dog is all gone, so he has no choice. When my dog is finished, he leans in and says, "So what's your favorite food, Miss Foodie?"
"Oh, that's hard," I say.
"That's what she said," he replies, and my jaw drops. I cannot believe he just said that! Did he just say that, or am I hearing things? He's just staring at me, waiting for me to tell him what my favorite food is. You know, like he didn't just say the most inappropriate thing he could've said. "Sorry," he says, "I just can't resist a good 'that's what she said' joke. Please, carry on."
I just look at him, still stunned. And then I burst out laughing. Really, really laughing. He leans back, a little smirk on his face. I'm grasping my stomach. I'm doubled over. Wow, Lauren, get a grip. It wasn't that funny. But it was. It so was. And then he's laughing, too, and I can't tell if he's laughing with me or at me. But I don't care. I really don't. I haven't laughed like this in so long, and it feels insanely good. So freeing. It's the feeling I used to get when I played the violin, but somehow even better. And I can't help but marvel at the fact it's all because of him. This boy who, up until recently, I didn't even know existed.