“What’s wrong?”
I tell Seth everything.
“That sucks,” he says.
“I hate all this stress. We used to be best friends. When did everything start sucking so hard?”
“When we weren’t looking.”
Seth is awesome for being there for me, listening to me rant. But enough about me.
“How did your statistics paper go?” I ask.
“Nailed it.”
“Seriously?”
“No. More like scraped it together three minutes before class. I was channeling those losers in high school who pumped the font up to twenty-four points to meet page requirements.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, it wasn’t. It was worse.”
I laugh.
“Finally!” Seth shouts. “You’ve never made me work so hard for a laugh before.”
“Sorry.”
“No apologies. I’m always up for a challenge. You know what?”
“What?”
“I can’t wait for next weekend.”
“Same here.” I haven’t seen Seth in forever. Next weekend is our road trip.
“Your parents are so cool for letting you go. How’d you pull that off?”
“We were talking and it came up. I think they need to prove that they can still trust me. Oh, and my mom will be calling me every five minutes. Just so you know.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“Right?”
“At least we don’t have to launch Plan B.” Plan B was telling my parents that some of Seth’s friends were staying at one of their family’s cabins in upstate New York for the weekend. The girls would get the bedrooms and the boys would sleep in the living room. We were hoping it’d be one of those lies my parents would forget about after the trip. But I was nervous about lying. It was an elaborate plan with huge potential for blowing up in our faces.
“Well . . . I guess I should let you go,” I say reluctantly. Hanging up with Seth is always impossible.
“Until tomorrow.”
“Okay. I love you.”
Oh. My. God.
Did I really just tell Seth I love him? Is that what I said? Wasn’t I waiting until the time was right?
I hold my breath, waiting for Seth to say it back.
“Bye,” is all he says.
“Oh. Um. Bye.”
What. Was. That?
sixteen
Seth
forever’s gonna start tonight
EVER SINCE the I Love You, I’ve been all twarked up in a ball of stress.
I love you. How hard is that to say? Why didn’t I say it back?
Of course I love Skye. I’ve loved her since the first second I saw her. When I met Skye at that beach party, it felt like my real life was finally starting. I just knew we were meant to be together.
And now she loves me.
Skye said “I love you” and I was too much of a neurotic freak to say it back. The thing about saying “I love you” is that there’s no going back once you say it. The potential for Skye to hurt me would increase drastically if I told her how much she means to me. Trusting that we’ll make this work isn’t easy. But it’s what I have to do if we’re going to move forward.
I have to say it back.
But when? Calling her and blurting it out would be lame. It has to be soon, though. Relationships are doomed if you let too much time go by after the I Love You without saying it back.
Wait. Our road trip would be the perfect time. There will be several ideal scenarios to choose from:
Scenario 1—We get a hotel room the first night. I surprise Skye by setting up the room with tons of candles. It’s all romantic. I say it.
Scenario 2—We stop at one of those scenic overlooks. Skye is impressed with the view. I say it.
Scenario 3—We wake up together at the same time. Skye is glowing in the morning light. I tell her she looks beautiful. I say it.
None of those scenarios plays out on the road trip. Here’s when I actually say it:
We’re at a rest stop stocking up on supplies. While Skye is in the bathroom, I quickly buy a few things for tonight. Then I hide the bag in my coat pocket and gather some snacks. I grab a pack of Ho Hos.
Skye comes up behind me. She puts her hands over my eyes. “Guess who?” she whispers.
I turn around. I look at her. And it just comes out.
“I love you,” I say. “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“When you didn’t say it back—”
“That was stupid. I should have said it back.”
“So I can stop worrying.”
“You have me,” I reassure her. “You’ll always have me.”
Skye hugs me tight. I hug her back, still holding the Ho Hos. Not exactly one of the ideal scenarios I pictured. But this is perfect in its own way.
I’m relieved it’s my turn to drive. I felt like such a loser when we took off from Skye’s house this morning in her car. How pathetic is it that I don’t even have my own car to take my girlfriend on a road trip? I’m hoping to make up for it tonight. This is the first time I’ve seen Skye since she turned eighteen. I wanted to do something special for her birthday. Which is why there will be a few surprises at the motel later.
This whole day has kind of been one surprise after another. Skye is a big fan of going with the flow. She makes me want to be more spontaneous. When we made plans for this road trip, we agreed that we’d be flexible. We’d do whatever we felt like. It’s been awesome so far. We drove to this pottery house in upstate New York. Skye wanted to get a special flowerpot there for her mom’s Christmas present. Then we went to the Delaware Water Gap. It’s cool how the massive dip of that valley cuts out a U-shaped piece of sky. We had fun hiking and taking in the views.
Skye is navigating the map while I drive. We just crossed back into New Jersey.
“We’re near Hope,” she says.
“Hope who?”
“No, it’s a town. My parents used to take me to the Land of Make Believe there when I was little. I thought it was the best amusement park ever.”
“Better than Great Adventure?”
“That was before my Great Adventure days.”
“Dude, I love Great Adventure. Isn’t it near Sea Bright? We should drive down there tomorrow.”
“Don’t they close in October?”
“Drat.”
“Drat? Really?”
“Ironically.”
Skye studies the map. “I wonder what it’s like in Sea Bright right now.”
“Cold.”
“September is the latest I’ve ever been there. We used to make a big fuss every year when we closed the house for the season. My cousins and aunts and uncles would come down for that last weekend. We’d cover all the furniture with drop cloths, eat everything left in the kitchen, play games. The grownups would tell stories we’d heard a million times already. But it wasn’t cheesy. It was awesome.” Skye has a faraway look, remembering. “We haven’t gotten together like that in a long time. Everyone’s so busy now.”
“Do you want to drive down?”
“No, you’re right. It’s freezing. And the house is closed. Anyway . . .” Skye puts her hand on my thigh. “I’d rather stay in a hotel.”
I glance at her. Her eyes burn into mine.
Is this happening?
Whenever I think about having sex with Skye for the first time, we’re usually in some tricked-out place. My ideal scenario would be to rent a room at the Palomar. Not just any room. Their deluxe king suite. Affording the room is never an issue in my fantasy. Which will probably never become reality, given that the only thing I’ve been able to afford at the Palomar is their four-dollar truffle popcorn. But it’s all good. There are other options. Like kicking Grant out for the night and transforming my room into a Skye-friendly paradise.
The way she’s squeezing my thigh makes m
e think we might not get back in time to explore that option. Maybe packing those condoms wasn’t just wishful thinking.
This road trip isn’t about destinations. It’s about driving around with absolute freedom. The best part is knowing that we can do whatever we want, whenever we want. So we get lost for a while, just driving around. We blast the road trip mix I made. Skye sings along to “My Sharona.” She knows more of my favorite eighties music now, plus a lot of late-seventies classics like this one. As if I wasn’t impressed already.
After dinner at the Waffle House (did I mention I was a big spender?), we find a motel off Route 80 called the Starlight Inn. I’ve been racking my brain for how to set up the room without Skye knowing. I really want her to be surprised. But there’s no stealth way to get ten minutes alone in our room first.
I pay for the room with a wad of fives and singles. The crusty guy behind the counter counts my bills.
“Tips,” I explain to Skye.
“Nice.”
“So, um . . . I kind of need the room for a few minutes. Before you come in.”
“Okay . . .”
“It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
I nod.
“For me?”
I nod.
“You’re so sweet. I’ll wait here.” Skye takes her bag over to a couch that’s seen better days.
Crusty counter guy leers at her.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I announce loudly enough for him to hear.
Skye loves confetti. That was clear our first time at the roller rink. I take out a big bag of confetti from the party store and fling it all over the bedspread. I put two sparkly birthday party hats on the table with the gift I wrapped and rewrapped about twenty times before it looked decent enough. Then I unwrap a pack of Hostess Strawberry CupCakes and put a birthday candle in hers. She said these were her favorite one time at Wawa. I leave the cupcakes on the wrapper because I forgot plates. The box of mini candles I bought when we stopped at the Go Mart was a genius purchase. I put candles all around the room. I remembered to bring matches for Skye’s birthday candle, so I quickly light the mini candles and turn out the light.
Crusty counter guy frowns at my return to the lobby.
“Come on.” I reach for Skye to pull her up. There’s a definite possibility she’ll think her late birthday party sucks. But Skye’s face lights up when she sees the room.
“This. Is awesome,” she says.
“You don’t think it’s lame?”
“No way. How could confetti and party hats—are those strawberry cupcakes? This is the opposite of lame.” Skye goes over to her present. “You didn’t have to get me anything. Those flowers were gorgeous.”
The last guy I was going to be was the loser who can’t see his girlfriend on her eighteenth birthday and then doesn’t give her anything on top of it. I sent her a huge bouquet of flowers on her birthday. It came with chocolate and a fuzzy stuffed penguin. Sacrificing a few nights out in Center City with Grant and Tim and two weeks of coffee from the Good Karma Café to save up for the flowers was worth it. Skye called me right after she got them. Hearing her go all happy girl on me was sweet.
“Can I open it?” Skye asks.
“Of course.”
She unwraps her gift. She pulls out the small box I decoupaged with tropical images. The inside is lined with purple velvet. I found a shade of purple that almost matches the couch she likes at The Fountain.
“I love it,” she says.
“It’s for shells and things from Sea Bright. I know you like collecting little things there. This way you won’t lose them.”
“It’s beautiful. It feels like . . . me.”
Score. “Ready to make a wish?”
“Always.” She sits at the table and puts on her party hat. She holds the other hat out to me. “Party hat up.”
I put on the party hat so its pointy top is sticking out sideways. Then I light her candle. Skye looks at me while she makes a wish. When she blows out the candle, I clap.
“Hope your wish comes true,” I say.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure it will.” She picks up her pink cupcake. “I can’t believe you remembered these. You and your Tastykake obsession.”
“You can’t deny their deliciousness.”
“You could deny it if you had horrible taste.”
“You have excellent taste.”
“Duh. That’s why I’m with you.” Skye comes over and sits on my lap. She puts her arms around my neck. “Can I just say this is the best birthday party ever?”
“Yes, you can.”
Skye kisses me. She straddles the chair, her thighs tight against my hips. The kissing gets intense. Way more intense than it’s ever been.
This is happening.
After all my planning, after imagining all those ideal scenarios, our first time is going to be in a cheap motel room. But this reality is so much better than all those fantasies.
This is how I know I can trust Skye. She doesn’t care that our first time isn’t at the Palomar or some other perfect place. She just wants to be with me. Which is all I need to know.
seventeen
Skye
where do we go from here
OF COURSE I can’t wait to see Seth. It’s just that if I were any more exhausted, I would be driving off the road. My eyes keep trying to close. A car honked at me a few miles back. I have a scary feeling I might have been swerving into the next lane. You’re supposed to pull over and take a nap if you’re this tired. People die this way. But I’m so exhausted that if I took a nap I’d wake up two days from now. Then I’d have to turn around and go back home without seeing Seth.
There’s some gum in my bag. I stuff two pieces in my mouth and chew them with vigor. I blast Seth’s latest mix. “The Safety Dance” perks me up. I roll the window down all the way, letting the crisp March wind smack against my face. Why did I leave so late? I wasn’t even doing anything. When I got home from school I packed, then kicked back in my room, then we had dinner. The next thing I knew it was almost eight.
Familiar landmarks soothe me as I get closer to Penn’s campus. The big University of Pennsylvania sign over Walnut Street makes me smile. Not just because I’m about to see Seth. This will be my reality next year. Hopefully I’ll be going to college right here in Philly. Seth and I will see each other every day. We’ll have friends from both colleges to do things with. Weekends will be all ours to own the city. We’ll chill in coffeehouses in the afternoons and have romantic grownup date nights. Philly has some of the best restaurants. I want to try them all. Every Saturday night we could do dinner and see a movie or play after.
Next year is going to rule.
I park in the lot at Thirty-eighth and Walnut. By the time I get to Seth’s dorm, it’s past ten. He looks relieved to see me when he comes down to sign me in.
“Sorry, I left late,” I explain.
“Are you okay?” Seth asks.
“Yeah. Just tired.”
“Then let’s get in bed. We can watch a movie if you want. I’ll make popcorn.”
“Awesome.”
The first thing I notice in Seth’s room is the picture we took in front of the Love statue last time I was here. Seth has it in a silver frame on his desk. Which soothes me even more.
I take my pajamas into the bathroom to change even though Grant’s not here and Seth has seen everything. The first thing I do is lock the other bathroom door that leads to the connecting room. I’d die if those guys barged in on me. The whole shared bathroom thing is probably the worst part of college. That, and getting stuck with a disgusting roommate like Grant who never cleans his side of the room. I didn’t want to say anything when I came in, but it’s getting worse.
I come out in my pajama bottoms with the tiny hearts and a matching tank that says L’AMOUR. Seth said how cute they were last time I wore them.
“Movie selections,” Seth announces. “We have I Love You, Man; Up in the Air; and Whip It. Y
our choice.”
I choose I Love You, Man. It’s one of the few movies both girls and boys enjoy equally. Well, almost equally. I’m sure Paul Rudd is more entertaining for me to watch. He’s supercute for an old guy.
We’re into the movie at first. But we don’t finish watching it. Which is basically how it’s been since we started sleeping together four months ago. It’s like we try to do other things, but all we really want to do is have sex. Maybe it would be different if we saw each other all the time. We’ve only had a few nights together since our road trip. I wasn’t expecting to lose my virginity at a place called the Starlight Inn. But it was perfect. Seth was perfect.
Kara kept telling me the first time is not the best. She was right about it hurting a little. But being completely in the moment, feeling how much Seth loved me, I was swept away by the intensity of it all. I’d never felt so connected to another person in my whole entire life.
Having sex in Seth’s dorm room is more complicated than it was at the Starlight Inn. First off, Grant could come in anytime. Seth tells Grant when I’m going to be here and Grant is always good about sleeping over somewhere else, but it’s still his room. Plus Dorian and Tim usually have people in their room. You can only lock the bathroom doors if you’re in the bathroom. So there’s always a chance that someone might come barging in from their side.
Another thing that bothers me is how dingy this room is. Grant’s side is so gross. Does he ever clean? Or do laundry? It was pretty ripe in here all winter with the window closed. Lately it smells like dirty socks and boy sweat. I know it isn’t Seth’s fault. Grant is the grody one. Seth always tries to make his room more appealing. When he lights the cinnamon-scented candle on his dresser, turns out the light, and starts kissing me, it’s like we’re instantly transported to our own private world. But I miss the total privacy we had at the Starlight Inn. It would be awesome if we could spend every weekend at a hotel.
The movie’s still playing when I get up to go to the bathroom. Apparently, I’m still lost in our dreamy private world because I forget to lock the other door.
Dorian busts in. While I’m on the toilet.
I scream. I only bothered to put on my bra and panties since I was going right back to bed. Both of which are entirely exposed to Dorian. Who keeps gawking at me.