Rachel
I ran my fingernail down Miles' spine as he entered his login information into the computer for our AP Euro test, and grinned when he shivered. "Good luck, baby. Maybe after the test you'll get a treat," I whispered.
"Stop distracting me, you minx," he breathed over his shoulder.
"You know you love it," I murmured, crossing my right leg over my left knee and poking his calf with my foot.
"Damn right."
"Okay," Ms. Johnson spoke up. "It's time to start the test. Good luck," she said, smiling.
I took a deep breath and began the test.
Three hours later, we exited the classroom with our shoulders slumped. "Jesus Christ," Miles gasped when we got into the hallway. "That test was brutal."
"It really was," I agreed, leaning against the wall next to the water fountain.
"How do you think you did?"
"Okay...I think I probably at least pulled a 4. You?"
"I feel okay about it...if I got a 3, it's definitely because of you," he said, kissing my cheek.
"Ah, that's not true. You worked really hard. You actually took longer than I did," I pointed out.
"Yeah, that's because you literally know everything there is to know about European History," he said, bumping my hip as we walked to the office. We both had permission to sign out after the test, and we had big plans for lunch.
I considered this. "True."
"See, you're modest too," he joked, opening the office door for me and following me inside.
We signed out and made our way to the parking lot hand in hand.
"Where do you want to go for lunch?" he asked me as he put the top down on the Jeep. It was a beautiful day; not a cloud in the sky, in the mid 80s.
"I'm craving a burrito," I started.
"Diego's," we said at the same time.
We laughed. "Diego's it is," he said, hopping in the Jeep next to me and taking off, squealing the tires as we exited the parking lot.
After eating embarrassingly large burritos, we drove down Front Beach Road. I assumed Miles was taking me home, but I really didn't want to go.
"Miles, where are we going?" I asked, looking out the passenger side.
"I was going to take you home, but..." he trailed off.
"But?"
"But I don't want to," he said, laughing.
"Good. I don't want you to either," I said.
"Where do you want to go? Movies? Beach?"
"What about your house?" I asked.
He shook his head. "My dad is home."
"I know," I said carefully.
He cut his eyes toward me and saw the look on my face.
"Oh no. No no no. I am not taking you to meet my dad. Nope," he said stubbornly, shaking his head.
"Miles, please. I don't want the first time we meet him to be on prom night. And you know our parents will all end up at the beach where we take photos," I argued.
"No. No. Not today."
"Miles. Please do this for me," I begged. "I want to get this over with."
He was silent for a few moments, staring ahead at the road. But when he sighed almost silently, I knew he was relenting.
"Ugh," he groaned. "Fine."
"Thank you, baby," I put my hand on his knee and squeezed gently.
He grunted in response, but put his hand on mine.
Miles
I can't believe I let her talk me into this. I was not prepared for Rachel to meet my dad today. Not even close.
We pulled into my driveway, and I was hoping against hope it would be empty. But no...of course not. The green Land Rover was sitting there in its spot, perfectly shiny as usual.
I sighed deeply as I got out of the Jeep and trudged around to her door, opening it and offering my hand, even though I was highly irritated with her.
"Thanks," she said in a small voice, looking up at me with stormy grey eyes.
My heart softened and my anger dissipated. I couldn't be mad at her—not for this. We'd been together over a month, and she still hadn't met my dad. Even though he was a total dick, I wanted him to see the girl I'd ended up with—and how happy she'd made me.
"I'm sorry in advance if he's an asshole..." I started, but she waved me off.
"Don't worry about it," she said, kissing my cheek.
I took a deep breath as I opened the door. "Dad?" I called.
"In the kitchen," he called back.
"I brought someone home I want you to meet," I said, leading Rachel into the kitchen, feeling her hand go clammy.
"Oh yeah? Who's that?" he asked, turning around.
I breathed a little easier; he was in a good mood.
"This is my girlfriend, Rachel Cross," I said proudly.
"Well, hello there, Rachel Cross," he said, holding his hand out in greeting.
She smiled—a real smile—and shook it. "Hello, Mr. Jefferson," she said sweetly.
"Please. Call me William," he said. "Wow, son, she's beautiful," he said, and she flushed.
"Yeah, she is, isn't she?" I agreed, looking down at her, smiling at her embarrassed face.
"Oh gosh, stop," she said, putting her hands over her face.
Dad laughed, a sound I hadn't heard in a long time.
"Have you all eaten?" he asked.
"Yeah, we just went to Diego's. We had our AP Euro test today," I explained.
"Oh, right. How did that go?" Dad asked, pulling a beer out of the fridge. "You don't mind if I drink, do you?" he asked Rachel. She shook her head.
"Rachel probably got a 100...I think I might have gotten a passing score," I said, sitting on a stool at the bar. Rachel sat next to me and put her arm around my shoulders.
"Mr. Jeff—William, I assure you, Miles rocked that test. We've been studying for weeks," she said, squeezing my arm.
"Well, that's promising," Dad said. "Let me know when you get your score."
I nodded, sort of shocked that this was going as well as it was.
"I will."
"Are you taking Rachel to prom, son?" he asked, taking a drink of his beer.
"Yes, I am," I answered, glancing at Rachel.
"We're meeting at the beach to take photos," Rachel spoke up. "You should come."
I widened my eyes. Oh God, that was going to be a cluster fuck.
To my surprise, Dad nodded. "All right, just give me a time," he agreed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do in the office. Nice to meet you, Rachel. Keep him in line," he said, winking.
When he was gone, I looked at Rachel, pulled her off the stool gently and out the door to the pool deck.
"Rachel Mae Cross, what the hell were you thinking?" I asked incredulously.
"What? I thought it was going well!" she exclaimed.
I just looked at her. "Rachel. It won't just be us taking photos...Luke and Brooke will be there too...and their families," I said pointedly.
I watched as recognition crossed her face. "Oh. Oh yeah...Shit," she said.
I nodded. "'Shit' is right," I said, putting my hands in my pockets.
"Ugh," she groaned. "I'm sorry, Miles, I fucked up," she said, tears choking her voice, looking down at the concrete.
I looked at the sky, my heart melting. "Rachel, it's okay. Please don't cry," I said, lifting her chin so she'd look at me.
I leaned in and kissed her lightly, my lips barely touching hers, but the touch was enough to ignite a fire deep within me.
When I moved my head back to look at her, her eyes were cloudy—not with tears, but with desire.
Damnit. I'm never going to make it until prom night.