Heather and Raven

Only You

Raven surprises me by showing up on my doorstep that Thursday evening. I'm literally wearing mismatched pajamas –pink trousers with donuts and a navy shirt with whales and planets– and fuzzy, striped socks. My hair is still damp from showering. All in all: I look every bit the hot mess I am. And then there's Raven, looking like a dreamboat.

I mean, Raven is good-looking without trying: he's got the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going on. Perpetual bedhead, bright eyes, leather jackets... You know the type.

But tonight he looks like he made an extra effort. His hair is brushed and styled, and he's wearing a nice red-and-black checkered flannel. For once, he's not wearing a leather jacket. He looks... Really different for some reason, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is. Either way, it's a good type of different. Especially when his eyes wander over me and he grins. "Heather, it's seven in the evening. Why are you in your pajamas?"

I shrug and cross my arms. "I showered early and didn't feel like getting dressed again. What about you?"

He frowns. "What about me?"

I nod at him. "Yeah. Why are you all dressed up?"

Raven's cheeks flush and he rubs his neck. "Well, I wanted to take you out. I mean, if we want this whole fake-dating thing to be convincible, we should probably have some pictures of us together. Like, for social media and stuff."

He's gesturing wildly with his hands and I've known him for long enough to know it's a nervous habit. I let him fumble for a bit: it's funny to see Raven, who's probably the most level-headed person I know, get so worked up. When he looks back up at me expectantly, I can't hide my own grin. Raven's eyes narrow.

"You enjoyed all of that, didn't you?"

Nodding, I reply: "It was a delight. Give me ten minutes. You can wait inside, if you want. I'm home alone."

I try to refrain from racing up the stairs to go change. Since it's still warm out, I change into a pair of white jeans shorts, a deep red tank top, and some sneakers. I slap on some concealer to hide the worst of the shadows beneath my eyes. My hair is still damp, but I know it'll dry up curly and I actually like how it looks, so I leave it be.

Once I walk back into the living room, I'm surprised to find Raven engrossed in The Fellowship Of the Ring, the movie I was watching before he showed up. Raven's never seen it and has always adamantly refused to watch it. I'm not sure why. But he's looking at the screen with something that can only be described as awe –which, considering it's one of the best movies ever made, is an appropriate reaction.

I lean against the doorpost. "Do you like it?"

Raven startles and I can tell that he didn't hear the stairs creak when I came down. He clears his throat and shakes his head. "It's not that good."

I nod slowly, seeing right through his lie but deciding not to call him out on it. "Sure. Are you ready?"

He gets up from the couch. "Yeah. You look really pretty, by the way. Red suits you."

Somehow, he can say that without blushing, but asking me on a fake date had him redder than a tomato. I try not to laugh. I go for a smile instead, and thank him as we walk back to his car.

"So where are we going?" I ask, clicking my seatbelt back into place.

The corner of his lips twitches. "It's a surprise."

And oh boy, I hate those words. I hate surprises. No, wait, scratch that: I love surprises. I just hate waiting for them. Raven is well aware of this fact, and is currently exploiting it.

"Raven," I whine, and his grin grows wider.

"Nope. You'll just have to wait and see," he says. "For what it's worth, you won't have to wait too long."

I groan and let my head fall back against the headrest, but quickly sat back up again. "Give me a hint."

"No. Just wait and-"

"Give me a hint, or I tell everyone I caught you watching Lord of The Rings and enjoying it."

"You have no proof," he says, but I can see how he tightens his grip on the wheel.

He was right, of course. But there was a reason I always won our poker games. "Maybe, maybe not. But are you willing to take that risk? Can your reputation take a blow like that?"

Raven debates it for a second, then grumbles something that sounds a lot like a curse. "Fine. There's... A lot of lights and noise, and you really like it."

I don't have to think about it for too long. The annual summer festival is in town. But Raven looks so disappointed in himself for giving away the surprise that I don't say it out loud. I shrug, settle more comfortably in my seat, and say: "No clue."

I pretend I don't notice Raven smiling. We both know I'm lying, but I also know he appreciates it.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later Raven parks the car by the boardwalk. The second I open my door, the crisp sea air hits me. It's familiar and always feels a bit like coming home, which is stupid considering I live in this town and it's literally home. But being able to see the Pacific just hits different. That free view of the horizon, the salty scent, the breeze... I probably was a pirate in a previous life.

Raven is already waiting by the entrance to the fair, and the moment I lay eyes on the flickering lights and carnival sounds, I lose all interest in the sea and breathe in a lungful of thick, like cotton candy smelling air.

When I join him, he offers me his arm. I roll my eyes and grab his hand instead. He doesn't protest as we enter the fair, merely casts a glance at me and says: "You're really laying it on thick, aren't you?"

"Like butter on bread, babe."

"If you call me that again, I will go drown you, sweetheart."

"My, aren't you a charmer," I grin, tugging on his hand as I veer to the right, where the cotton candy stand I was looking for is.

Raven opens his mouth to say something, notices where I'm going, and then shakes his head with a smile. "Whoever you end up with, I pity them. You'll never love them as much as you love sugar."

I give him a light shove and he recoils, laughing when he bumps into a grumpy-looking old man. I take out my wallet and buy an absolutely enormous cone of bright blue cotton candy. For some dumb reason, I always find the blue one tastier than the pink, even though I know they're made exactly the same way.

I hold it out to Raven, who gladly tears off a piece and stuffs it in his mouth.

"God, why would anyone want to have sex when you can have cotton candy?" he wonders out loud as he swallows.

It's such a random statement that I burst into laughter and promptly choke on my own piece of cotton candy. Thankfully, it dissolves quickly enough. Raven looks like he's trying very hard not to laugh.

"Only you, Heather," he says, the flickering lights of the fair dancing in his eyes. "Only you."

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