“They’re great,” I say.
“Tell your mom to let me know if she needs me to take down any of the trees before the next snowstorm,” he says.
“I will,” I say.
Breathing hard, Reeve collapses onto the sofa and pats the seat next to him, which Tommy has now vacated. Tommy grins at me from the floor. “Sit down, Cho,” Reeve says.
I sit down next to him. “So where’s your cat?” I ask him. “I want to pet it.”
Reeve’s brow furrows. “Cat? We don’t have a cat. My mom’s allergic.”
Oh, Ren. Of course she lied about the cat! I smile to myself.
“What?” Reeve asks.
“Nothing,” I say. It’s crazy, but at moments like these I really miss her.
* * *
We sit down at the dining room table. Mr. Tabatsky is at the head, with Luke on his left and Mrs. Tabatsky on his right, and I’m down at the other end with Reeve and Tommy.
“Mom did her scalloped potatoes, which means she wants to impress you,” Tommy tells me. “They’re her specialty, so you better eat a lot.”
“Hush, Tommy,” Mrs. Tabatsky says, swatting at him. She slices pot roast and slides it onto my plate. “It’s not every day Reevie brings a girl home.”
I suck in my breath. So he never brought over Teresa or Melanie. I’m not like his other girls. I’m pressing my lips together and trying not to smile, when Reeve says, “I told you, Mom. It’s not like that. Cho’s just a friend from school.”
I stare down at my plate. Just a friend from school.
“All right, all right, Reevie. Cool your jets,” Mrs. Tabatsky says. “Lillia, we’re so glad to have you over tonight. We’ve been wanting to thank you for everything you did to help Reeve when he was injured.” She looks across the table at Reeve’s dad, who is chewing his pot roast. “Mr. Tabatsky and I obviously don’t know much about prep schools and fifth-year opportunities. We’re so glad he had you to guide him.”
Gruffly Mr. Tabatsky says, “When those college scouts scattered like cockroaches, I thought Reevie was done for. But now he’s got a second chance to play ball again.” Nodding to himself, he says, “I can’t wait to slam our front door in their faces when they come calling after they see what Reeve’ll do next season.”
“We’re not slamming the door in anybody’s face,” Reeve’s mom chides. “But we’re gonna make them work for it, that’s for sure.” She dimples. “My baby is a star.”
“He ain’t all that, Mom,” Luke says. “Don’t forget your firstborn.” He points to his trophies lining the top shelf of Mrs. Tabatsky’s china closet, and Tommy laughs so hard he almost spits out his milk.
Mrs. Tabatsky silences them with a glare and turns to me again. “It’s all thanks to you, Lillia.”
Guilt stabs my heart. It’s all thanks to me that Reeve almost lost everything in the first place.
“Who wants more potatoes?” Mrs. Tabatsky asks.
Immediately I say, “I’d love some more,” even though I’m not finished with my first helping yet. I’ll eat every single bite on my plate and more if it means I’ll stay on Mrs. Tabatsky’s good side.
* * *
After dessert Reeve walks me outside. We’re almost at my car when he says, “Let’s go for a drive.”
We get into his truck and drive to the woods.
I can tell something’s wrong. I reach out and touch his hair in the back, where it’s soft and curls against my hand. He likes it when I touch him here. But he doesn’t melt against my hand the way he usually does. He stays rigid. “What are we doing, Cho?”
I go cold. “I don’t know.”
“This doesn’t feel right. I don’t like lying to my family. I want to introduce you as my girlfriend.” Reeve goes quiet, and then he says, his voice halting, “I got into another prep school. . . . It’s an all-boys school called Graydon. It’s an hour outside Boston.”
I sit up straight and turn to look at him. “Really?” Benedictine is all the way in Delaware.
He’s watching me closely. “BC’s still your top choice, right?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“So . . .” Reeve shrugs his shoulders. “Then that’s where I’ll be.”
“But what about Benedictine?”
“It’s too far away. I don’t want us to be so far apart.” I’m staring at him, and he colors. “I mean, unless that’s what you want. I’ll do whatever you want to do. If you don’t want to try for a long-distance thing, or if you do . . . it’s . . . whatever. I’m just laying out options.” He swallows. “It’s as good a school as Benedictine, too. Plus, their coach played pro ball back in the day. But . . . you know, like I said, it’s just another option. No pressure. I don’t have to decide right away.”
My heart is thrumming in my chest. This thing with me and Reeve . . . it doesn’t have to be a secret forever. I lean forward and press my lips against his. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I whisper against his mouth.
He pulls back, and his face breaks into a grin. “Yeah? Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure!” The thought that this—we—get to continue, that he wants it to—it’s everything.
Reeve lets out a breath and relaxes his shoulders. “Okay, cool. Awesome. So we’ll just bide our time until graduation, and then we’re out of here.” He pulls his phone out of his coat pocket. “You need to get home soon.”
That he was nervous and unsure of me, it’s so sweet I could die. I want to give him something of me in return.
My hand is shaking as I unzip my coat, reach behind under my sweater, and unhook my bra. I pull it out of my jacket armhole, and I’m glad I wore a pretty one today—sheer pink with a dove-gray bow in the center. Reeve has stopped breathing and is watching me like a boy in a trance. He doesn’t take his eyes off me, and all of a sudden I feel like a queen. I take his hand, and I slide it underneath my sweater and up my front, all the way to my heart. “You can touch me,” I whisper, and I let go, and he cups his hand around the curve of my breast. I wonder if he can feel my heart pounding against his hand. It’s beating so hard and so fast, he must. I know he’s been with other girls, that this is nothing new. But the way he looks at me, like I am a revelation, a treasure to behold, it takes my breath away, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here.