Something About Love: A YA contemporary romance in verse

  Breathe deep.

  “That sounds bad too.

  I’m taking his picture.”

  I hold up my photography pack and

  Flash kit.

  “Be back in a bit.”

  “IT’S REALLY DARK OUT HERE,”

  Trevor comments as he

  Pulls his jacket tighter.

  He peers toward the highway behind us, where

  There are very few cars.

  I continue fiddling with the umbrella so

  It won’t blow away in this wicked wind,

  Hoping I can pull off this technique before we

  Freeze to death.

  Twenty minutes later,

  I think I’ve got the shot I want, and

  Trevor and I are huddled in my car.

  He was the perfect model this time,

  Doing exactly what I said with his hands and

  Feet and

  Body.

  I put the flash behind him, so

  His facial expression didn’t matter.

  He’s blowing on his hands;

  I’m sitting on mine;

  The heater is taking forever to warm up.

  The radio is on low, and

  We’re done shooting, but

  I don’t want to go home yet.

  Trevor doesn’t seem to be in a hurry either.

  “How were midterms?” I ask.

  “Fine,” he says.

  He lowers his hands and

  Sits so still.

  The air is charged with tension.

  I recognize this feeling,

  This awkward anticipation.

  I’ve felt it before with Trevor.

  Before he asked me out.

  Before he kissed me.

  Before I found out Harris had defaced my locker.

  I’ve felt a lot of things with Trevor, and

  I’ve been brushing them away for months—

  Eighteen of them.

  But now, I hold onto my feelings,

  Acknowledge them,

  Embrace the spontaneity of them.

  Don’t think, just react.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I turn toward him, finally relaxing as

  I feel the first inklings of heat from the vents.

  I pull my hands from under my legs and

  Rest them in my lap.

  “Nothing.”

  He shifts toward me too, and

  The heat I feel is suddenly coming from him.

  It’s dark, but

  I can see the outline of his face.

  I can see his hand as he moves it toward me.

  He fumbles a little bit but

  Manages to wrap his fingers around mine.

  My first reaction is to sigh and

  Close my eyes,

  Enjoy the warmth of his skin and

  The firmness of his fingers around mine.

  Don’t think, just react,

  Jacey had said.

  I squeeze his hand—

  My next reaction.

  He squeezes back.

  WHY DO YOU WANT TO GO OUT WITH ME?

  My midnight text gets sent late so

  Trevor might not see it until morning.

  My heart jumps when my phone vibrates.

  I smile, though

  I try to hold it back.

  Him: Do I need a reason?

  Me: Yes.

  I mean, I’m not very nice to you.

  I’ve told you no.

  And—

  Him: You don’t act like I’m king of the world.

  I stop typing, reading and

  Re-reading his words.

  Me: And

  So you like me because I don’t act like

  You’re the hottest boy ever born?

  Him: Are you saying I’m the hottest boy ever born?

  Me: Haha

  Him: Seriously, Wings.

  I like you.

  I don’t really want to qualify it against

  Someone else’s reasons for why.

  Me:

  Him, only seconds later: I want to be waiting for you when

  You find your way back.

  I brush away the tears threatening to

  Spill out.

  Him: That’s why I’ve put up with your attitude.

  ;)

  Me: I’m sorry.

  Him: Don’t be.

  When I get lost,

  I’ll be counting on you

  To find me.

  “OLIVIA, DARLING, I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU.”

  Mom’s voice on the message sounds pleasant,

  Unrushed.

  “Trevor is staying at the house again this weekend.

  His mom got a new job, and

  She’s traveling more than she used to.

  I hope that’s okay.

  Your dad mentioned that you don’t like it when he’s here, and

  I want you to be comfortable.

  Call me, okay?”

  I delete the message,

  Marveling that Mom called because

  She…

  Cares how I feel?

  I call her back, and

  Tell her it’s fine if Trevor’s there, and

  Ask her what she has planned for the weekend.

  She sounds surprised that I’ve asked, and

  A twinge of guilt stabs through me.

  “Maybe we could go shopping?” she asks.

  I wrinkle my nose and

  Suggest, “Movie instead?

  Maybe pizza after?

  Rose will beg for ice cream too.”

  Mom laughs, and

  I can’t remember the last time I heard her do that,

  Especially not because of something I’ve done.

  My chest feels so tight,

  So tight.

  “Mom—” I start and

  Find I can’t finish.

  Tears prick behind my eyes and

  I suddenly hate this wall between us.

  Mom doesn’t seem to notice that

  I’m on the verge of a break-down, because

  She says, “See you tonight.

  Movie date on Saturday!” and

  Hangs up.

  “HEY, WINGS,”

  Trevor says when

  Rose and I arrive at the Youngbloods

  On Friday night.

  He’s lounging in the kitchen,

  A plate of food in front of him.

  “My mom sent dinner tonight since

  Our parents have that country club thing.

  You guys hungry?”

  Rose looks at me before

  Bounding over to Trevor.

  They’re not best friends or

  Anything, but

  He’s always been nice to her and

  That’s all Rose cares about.

  “Mmm, spaghetti,” she says.

  “Does your mom cook every night?

  Livvy cooks for us.”

  “I know,” Trevor says.

  “Remember I ate with you guys a couple of weeks ago?”

  He places a piece of garlic bread in front of her and

  Turns to heat up her spaghetti in the microwave.

  I lean against the doorway,

  Watching them.

  “And my mom hardly ever cooks,” he continues.

  “I’m really good at ordering pizza and

  Going to a drive-through.”

  Rose smiles at him and

  Then at me.

  “Come eat, Livvy.”

  So I do.

  “BUT MOM IS TAKING US TO A MOVIE TOMORROW,”

  I protest when Rose wants to do

  Movie night tonight.

  “I like the stay-home movie night,” she insists.

  “There’s popcorn in the cupboard, and

  I brought a box of hot chocolate from Dad’s.”

  I sigh,

  Knowing I won’t win against my sister.

  I can’t stand to see her unhappy, and

&n
bsp; She wants a stay-home movie night complete with

  Popcorn and hot chocolate.

  “Fine,” I concede. “What movie?”

  “Something we all like,”

  Trevor says as he enters the family room with

  A huge bowl of popcorn.

  He’s carrying two additional bowls and

  A stack of napkins.

  “You’re staying here?”

  This night is moving toward something

  I’m not sure I’m ready for.

  “I have no other plans.”

  He sets the popcorn down and

  Turns back to the kitchen.

  “Milk or water for your hot chocolate, Rose?”

  “Milk,” she says,

  Still searching for the right movie.

  Ten minutes later,

  I’ve strategically positioned myself in

  The recliner instead of on

  The sectional with

  Rose and Trevor.

  She’s happily slurping her hot chocolate and

  Crunching on popcorn,

  The beginnings of Bridge to Terabithia

  Pouring from the huge TV.

  Trevor seems content with his snacks and

  The choice of movie.

  He hasn’t looked at me once,

  Hasn’t acted like he’s anything more than

  My friend.

  I clench my fingers around my mug of hot chocolate and

  Try to focus on the movie.

  “LOOKS LIKE SHE’S OUT FOR GOOD.”

  Trevor’s voice interrupts my intense focus on

  The tree house on the TV.

  “What?”

  I turn toward him and

  Find Rose fast asleep on the couch.

  My heart simultaneously drops and

  Leaps.

  I remember the way Trevor’s hand felt in mine,

  I remember how I slowly drove him home after the shoot,

  Holding his hand for a good fifteen minutes.

  I remember how he’d whispered, “See you later, Wings,” and

  Got out of the car without

  Trying anything else, or

  Asking me to go out with him, or

  Anything.

  He gets up and

  Gathers his mug and Rose’s.

  “You done?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I hand him my empty mug and

  Half-empty bowl.

  He leaves, and

  I can’t stop the thoughts

  Parading through my head.

  I want to sit next to him on the couch.

  I want to hold his hand again.

  I jump from the recliner and

  Listen for him to approach.

  When I hear his footsteps,

  I hurry to the built-in closet behind the couch.

  “What are you looking for?” he asks.

  “A blanket,” I say.

  “I’m cold.”

  He opens the door two down from me and

  Pulls out a huge quilt.

  He takes it with him as he moves back to his spot

  On the couch.

  I close the closet door slowly,

  Watching him.

  Is he inviting me to sit next to him?

  Share the blanket with him?

  I go to the cabinet where he got the blanket,

  Not sure how to get what I want without

  Admitting

  How I feel.

  “We can share,” he says.

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I DON’T MIND EITHER.”

  I can’t believe I said that,

  I think after

  I’m settled next to Trevor on the couch.

  I’m not touching him, but

  I desperately want to hold his hand.

  I can’t believe he didn’t say something like,

  “Are you saying you like me?

  Want to sit next to me?

  Hold my hand?”

  But he’d simply held the blanket aside until

  I sat next to him.

  Then he tossed it over my legs and

  Let me take as much as I wanted.

  I’m calculating how much time we have to be alone when

  He leans toward me.

  “This movie always makes me cry,” he whispers.

  “I know,” I say without turning.

  “I’ve watched this with you before.”

  “Really?” he asks.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Yeah.”

  I turn toward him.

  “Remember we watched it after—”

  He raises his arm and

  Gently pulls me forward until

  I’m cradled against his chest.

  “Ah, now I remember.

  We used to watch a lot of movies like this.”

  His heartbeat is galloping,

  A gentle bumping against my cheek.

  Don’t think, just react.

  I smile and

  Slide my arm around his waist.

  “I don’t know what’s changed with you,” he says real quiet so

  He won’t wake Rose, or

  Maybe so he won’t scare me away.

  “But I’m not complaining.”

  “I’m trying to find my way back.”

  “I know, but

  What’s changed?

  Two weeks ago,

  You said I had no chance with you, and

  Now you’re letting me hold your hand and

  I’m thinking I could probably kiss you and

  You’d let me do that too.”

  My lips tingle just thinking about kissing him.

  “Um,” I say.

  “I’m working through some stuff, and

  Jacey said I should just react and

  Stop thinking so much.”

  “Jacey is so smart,” he says with a chuckle.

  I HAD A FUN TIME AT THE MOVIES WITH MY MOM.

  I stare at the fresh journal page,

  Completely shocked that I’m writing again.

  I haven’t written in a journal since

  Trevor and I broke up.

  But I did have a good time at the movies with

  Mom and

  Rose.

  We got popcorn and

  Sodas.

  After, Rose got her way, and

  Mom bought ice cream.

  Mom laughed,

  Hugged Rose, and

  Smiled at me like she used to before

  I discovered her affair with Darren Youngblood.

  I still blame her for leaving us and

  Going off to live with Darren, but

  I’m starting to realize now that

  She didn’t replace us with a new family,

  That she isn’t perfect, but

  That she…loves us.

  That she loves me.

  TREVOR IS UNREASONABLY HAPPY TODAY,

  Jacey texts on Monday during her lunch.

  Me: So?

  Jacey: You better tell me everything.

  Right now.

  I know you’re hiding something.

  I’ve been holding onto the secret of

  Trevor, of

  Holding his hand, of

  Listening to the beat of his heart instead of

  Listening to the movie.

  I hadn’t even cried like I usually do, because

  I’d been so happy with Trevor.

  Me: Okay, fine.

  I may have held his hand last weekend, and

  We may have watched a movie together on Friday.

  Jacey: !!!

  Gotta go,

  Come get me after school.

  Me: Don’t make a big deal out of this.

  I’m just reacting,

  Like you suggested.

  Jacey doesn’t answer, because

  She’s in class.

  I flip my phone over,

  Thinking about everything’s that changed since
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  I started shooting him.

  Because of him,

  I’m taking pictures again, and

  I love it.

  Because of him,

  I’ve forgiven my mom—

  Just a little bit—

  But still.

  Because of him,

  I’m contemplating taking a picture of myself so

  I can see who I really am,

  How I really feel.

  I thumb the camera on and

  See myself staring at the screen.

  I quickly tap the shutter button, and

  The camera clicks.

  “I HATE MY HAIR,”

  I mutter.

  I’ve never realized it until now,

  Staring at myself on

  The screen of my phone.

  I see myself in the mirror all the time, and

  I’ve cut my hair this way on purpose.

  But looking at myself in this cheap,

  Phone-taken

  Picture,

  I realize

  I hate my hair.

  “LET’S TRY AGAIN.”

  I navigate back to the camera, and

  This time,

  I try to smile.

  “I LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT.”

  I can’t smile right.

  It feels wrong,

  Like I’ve forgotten how to do it because

  It’s been so long since I’ve tried—or

  Had a reason to smile.

  I touch the shutter anyway and

  Analyze the picture.

  I see nothing in my eyes.

  None of the happiness,

  Joy, or

  Amusement

  You’d expect to see in a picture of someone smiling.

  I don’t look annoyed either, or

  Like the photographer has coaxed this smile from

  Me by proclaiming, “Smile!”

  I simply look…dead inside,

  Like a girl who’s trying to smile because

  A boy challenged her to take a selfie and

  See what it said about her.

  But this photo says nothing about me,

  And yet,

  It says everything.

  It says how unhappy I’ve allowed myself to become, and