The In Between

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Tara

Justin picks me up at the doughnut shop, grinning while he watches me finish cleaning up, wiping the glass case, checking to be sure there’s enough change in the register for the next shift. His eyes are bright, shining, and I know that he too can’t wait for us to be alone together. I hurry, changing out of the ugly smiling doughnut t-shirt and pulling my hair back, which smells of burnt sugar.

As soon as we’re out the door, we grasp hands, laughing for no real reason except that we are together. We’re slammed with the desire to kiss, to say everything all at once. It’s as if we’re hungry to be together even when we are together. Our pace quickens as we near his car. I sit close to him as we drive out of town. I don’t have to ask where we’re going. I know. The quarry is our place now. We lie on towels and stare up at the sky, talking, not talking, touching, exploring. Every minute, every touch brings us closer together.

He rolls over to me and I can’t tell his arms, his mouth, his heart, from my own. He slips something into the palm of my hand. It’s a piece of paper torn out of a spiral notebook. But the writing is careful. And the words make up a song. A song about me.

I trace a finger over my name, feeling where his pen indented the paper. I read it three times before carefully folding it up and sticking it in my wallet so that it will always be with me.

When we were six, we had a play-date for love,

We missed our date,

We got there ten years late,

But we were born to love

It’s completely uncool, and funny, and sweet. There is music written beneath it, but I can’t read it. I never learned how. I make him hum it for me. I immediately recognize it as the tune he’s been humming under his breath in the car when he drives. He’s been working on it for a few days now, I realize, which makes me smile.

He gives me other things, too. A Kickers t-shirt, which I plan to sleep in every night. He gives me twenty-two mix CDs comprised of 474 of his favorite songs. He apologizes as he hands me the stack shyly, saying he couldn’t choose—he wanted to share them all with me. And I know I’ll listen to them all, too, one by one.

“How can anyone have that many ‘favorite’ songs?” Gabby says when I bring a few over one afternoon to play while we lie in her backyard. “He doesn’t actually know what the word ‘favorite’ means.”

“Not that I’m counting, but it’s about 400 more than he put on the mix CD for what’s-her-name,” I say, ignoring her dig at Justin.

Gabby laughs and takes a bite of her organic green tea vegan energy bar, her diet obsession of the week. She ordered two cartons online and is now busy trying to convince herself that they are edible. I’ve tried one. They’re not.

“You do realize that thing has as many calories as a Snickers bar,” I point out knowing that won’t stop her from eating them. My own chocolate consumption has been epic today—doughnuts, which I’m getting heartily sick of, for breakfast, lunch and snack.  My veins must be sugar-glazed by now, but I tell myself it’s all just part of this crazy happy silly summer. “Justin changed his Facebook status,” I add suddenly. I can’t help it.

“Congratulations,” she says but there’s a hint of disapproval in her voice.

I decide to move past it. “He wants me to come over to his house for dinner Friday night.”