The Moon and More(43)
Author: Sarah Dessen

“Oh my God!” Theo said. Now he was damp, breathless, and shrieking. I put my hand over my face. “Thank you! You won’t regret this, I promise. Just give me your number, and—”

“No.” Clyde nodded at me. “Set it up with Emaline, have her contact me.”

Me? I thought. But then Clyde was waving and walking away, just as easily as he’d turned up, down the wide aisle towards the paper plates.

At first, Theo and I just stood there, watching him go. Then he said, very quietly, “Please, for the love of God, tell me that did actually just happen.”

“Think so,” I said, readying to push the cart towards the registers. “Can we go now? I have other clients waiting for towels.”

He turned to face me, a smile slowly spreading across his face. Behind him, toaster ovens and microwaves were stacked up high over us, facing mini fridges on the other side. And it was there, surrounded by low-priced appliances, that Theo suddenly stepped forward and kissed me. In a bulk store, with high ceilings and vast quantities, more of anything than you could ever really need. And the weirdest part was that in that moment—after feeling so small all morning—the tug I felt in my heart as I kissed him back was suddenly, inexplicably, very big as well.

10

“PICK A CARD. Any card.”

This was how Benji greeted me at the door. No hello; just a command. I looked down at the playing cards, spread in a fan between his fingers, and reached for one in the middle. His brow furrowed.

“Not that one,” he said. I drew back. “Pick another.”

I did as I was told. This time, he just shook his head, looking frustrated.

“How about this,” I said. “Let’s just say that, in the interest of time, you give me some direction.”

“More to the left,” he told me. “Far left.”

I picked the last card, a queen of hearts. Happy, he folded up the rest. “Okay,” he said, then cleared his throat, closing his eyes. A beat. Then, “Your card is . . . the queen of hearts.”

I flipped it over. “You’re right! Wow. That’s impressive.”

“I’m just learning right now,” he explained, unnecessarily, turning to go into the house. “I only got the kit yesterday.”

“Kit?” I said, but once I was in the foyer, I understood. There, scattered across the huge, antique dining room table, was everything you’d require for putting on a magic show: top hat, stuffed rabbit, bag of balloons, interlocking rings, as well as several packs of cards. “Wow. Where’d you find this?”

“Park Mart,” he told me, as he climbed up on one of the chairs, picking up the rings. “We’ve been going there, like, every day.”

“Really,” I said, picking up the rabbit and studying its small, whiskered face. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged, letting the rings fall back to the table with a clank. “I’m really hard to keep entertained.”

Hearing this, I thought of Theo, earlier in the day, relaying how he’d been told he slammed doors. His and Benji’s expressions, sharing these things, were altogether similar: small and sort of rueful. Clearly truths they’d heard more than once.

Then, however, my brain shifted to another image of Theo, this time after I’d received the call from my dad asking if I could drop by when I had a chance. At that moment, he had still been apologizing for kissing me at Big Club.

“I can’t believe I did that,” he’d said, again, as we walked to the car. His entire face was pink, having faded from the bright red it had turned earlier when he first pulled away from me, when he suddenly realized what was happening. “Especially after last time, when you specifically told me not to kiss you. I swear, I’m not that guy.”

“Theo—”

“You know, That Guy Everyone Hates. I don’t make a habit of kissing girls with boyfriends. I’m not even a big PDA person! Or, I mean, I wouldn’t be, if I’d ever had much of a relationship. Which I haven’t. Maybe because I’m That Guy Everyone Hates?”

“Theo.”

“Emaline, you have a boyfriend. Whom I met. Who already doesn’t like me. It’s like I want him to kick my ass. And I swear to you, I don’t. I’ve never been in a fight. Like, not even once.”

“Theo.”

This time, thankfully, he shut up. Which left me with the floor before I was ready to know what to do with it. So, equally ungracefully, I said, “Luke’s not my boyfriend anymore. We broke up this morning.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, the cart he was pushing rattling to a sudden stop. Then he looked at me. “You split up today?”

“Yep.”

“That’s why you were upset, when you came over!” he said, pointing at me. I nodded. A big grin spread across his face. “Oh, man. That is great!”

“Well,” I said diplomatically, “I wouldn’t say—”

“I mean, it’s not, of course not,” he added quickly, fixing his expression. “It’s terrible. For Luke. And your, you know, long relationship, which was clearly very important and meaningful.”

“True,” I told him.

“But for me,” he said, smiling again, “it’s good news. Because, number one, I am not That Guy Everyone Hates. Or totally him.”

“Always a good thing,” I agreed.

“And two,” he said, grinning wider, “I can do it again. I mean, we can. And it’ll be okay.”

I smiled at him. He was such a dork, one thing I could safely say Luke, for all his charms, had always been too confident to be considered. “It wasn’t so bad the first time, actually.”

Another grin. And then, he leaned over the cart—awkwardly, sweetly—and kissed me once more. Clearly, despite the jumbled way it had all happened, that first time was no fluke. It was more than okay.

By the time I pulled into the driveway at Sand Dollars, though, the guilt was starting to set in. I mean, this had to be the quickest rebound on record. Actually, it was more of a crazy, errant hard bounce, right back into the basket. So when he leaned down into my open driver’s-side window, toaster oven box in his arms, to make it a three before walking up the steps of Sand Dollars, I pulled back.

“Uh-oh,” he said, looking worried as I put my hand over my mouth. “That’s never good.”

“No, I’m fine,” I said. “I—”