The Beautiful Truth

// 14

So you've never been on a motorcycle before," Barton said, tossing more driftwood onto the fire he'd expertly made between rocky spits on the otherwise flat Ocean Beach. "Tell me something else I don't know about you."

The breeze wasn't so noticeable down in the cradle of rocks. For that, I was thankful. I was a little chilly, even in the hoodie I was wearing with the hood pulled over my hair. The fire would only help matters more.

"I've also never built a fire on the beach," I offered.

"And you still haven't," he laughed, tossing on one last piece before gingerly sitting down next to me, digging his heels into the sand in front of him.

"Fine," I agreed, deflated. "I guess you're right. Hmmm..." I thought aloud.

"I've never..." I debated for second, wondering if he'd wrongly assume that I was trying to passive-aggressively ask him what he was doing with me. "I've never had a boyfriend."

For the first time in days, he seemed genuinely surprised. He didn't often break that too-cool-to-care façade he had going. "What?" He looked at me with what appeared to be stunned gray eyes, and shook his head.

I shrugged. "Yep, true story."

"Unbelievable," he scoffed.

"If I hadn't left my phone back in the bike, I'd call someone from Pontiac just to prove it to you."

He grinned and leaning his shoulder into mine. "No worries, pretty girl, I don't think you're a liar. But did you go to a high school for the blind?"

I forced a laugh. "Uh, no."

"Then you went to an all girls school, OK. It makes sense now. Sort of."

I shook my head and laughed as I smiled. I couldn't help myself. "Nope, it was your regular, run-of-the-mill, co-ed, public Oklahoma high school."

"Oh, right, Oklahoma...you weren't into dating your cousins. That's a relief."

"I think they do that in Kentucky, not Oklahoma," I corrected his stereotype. "But good try, though."

"Oklahoma, Kentucky...same thing."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure."

"So, really, no boyfriend?" he looked at me, his cheeks glowing in the growing firelight.

This was starting to get uncomfortable. "No...I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not a v—"

He didn't need to hear that; thankfully I stopped myself. Talyn didn't even know about the time Jason Mandrino and I... I almost laughed out loud again, thinking of how awkward we'd been back in junior year right after it happened—I was so afraid he'd tell Talyn, and it turned out, months later, that Jason was afraid I'd tell him...neither of us ever did, and we ended up pretty good friends.

I pulled myself back into the present from my rapidly digressing thoughts.

"If you were, it's no big deal," he shrugged. "I didn't lose mine 'til I was 19. Nobody at Stanford wanted to sleep with the 16 year-old."

I scoffed. "Sure, sure."

Barton must have noticed that I was kind of squirming. "Let's talk about something else."

"Please."

Barton laughed softly. "What is your favorite song, all time?"

I looked up at him from the spot in the sand I'd been studying since Jason Mandrino had crossed my mind. "Man, that's really specific."

"You better come up with something, or I'll be forced to believe it's Angel is a Centerfold."

I laughed loudly. "Good God. Thanks for that, by the way."

Barton pressed his lips together, unable to keep from smiling otherwise. It still showed through at the edges.

"The title track from...We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes, Death Cab," he answered firmly.

"Ohhh, good answer," I complemented him. "I think that's my favorite Death Cab song."

"I can give you top five," I offered.

"OK, we'll work from there," he agreed.

I swallowed hard as he leaned back on his palms. The way his gray thermal shirt clung to his chest was distracting.

"Drop Out/So Unknown—"

"Jack's, I should've known," he grinned.

I smiled wider. "Forget December."

"Ah, Something Corporate. Andy again."

"Work, Jimmy Eat World."

"Great song."

I grinned. "Ummm...Pictures of You."

"Wait, The Last Goodnight version, or the—"

"Have some faith, guy, the Cure song. The seven and a half minute Cure song."

I looked up at him, and he winked. "Just checking. What's the fifth."

I smiled to myself. "Baba O'Riley."

"Nice. Two Andy's, a Jimmy, the Cure and the Who. And, you know the real name of that song. You're pretty cool, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

He laughed. "If I'd known you back in Oklahoma, there's no way you'd have gotten out of high school without a boyfriend."

I looked at him and wrinkled my nose. "Come on."

"No, you come on," he insisted. "You're fucking gorgeous, and you know music doesn't start and end with Ryan Seacrest and the American Top 40."

I smiled. "Thanks."

He rolled his eyes, sighed loudly, and hesitated only for a split second before leaning in to kiss me. I felt my stomach drop like I was riding a rollercoaster. His sweet, soft kiss was equal parts unexpected and anticipated. And yep, just as I'd feared, I was in trouble.

He pulled away, but only far enough to rest his forehead against mine, so our noses were still touching. "I think I'm in trouble," he sighed.

I closed my eyes again and smiled widely. "Why, is your girlfriend gonna get jealous?"

He finally sat up again and tilted my chin upwards with the side of his index finger. "Come on," he laughed. "You should know better than that."

I raised my eyebrows, suddenly unsure of myself. He was a semi-rockstar, after all...

"No other girlfriend, Sawyer."

I bit my lower lip. I tried to pretend that I hadn't implied that he'd called me his only girlfriend.

"Ah, those eyes," he said, exhaling the words like he'd been holding them in for weeks. "Come here." He pulled me down so that my head was in his lap. The breeze from the ocean seemed to have picked up a little more over the rocks, but we were warm on our blanket by the fire, and he ran his fingers through my sun-streaked hair as we talked.