Part 23 (2/2)

The doorbell rings again.

c.r.a.p. How many hours is that? Could it be him?

I fly out of bed. Sloppy oversize T-s.h.i.+rt. No makeup. Wild hair. Total wreck. Race down the stairs. Throw open the door, and there's a guy walking away.

”Hey. Stop. I'm here.”

He turns around.

”Scott?” I can feel the flush that's running up my face.

”So you are home.”

”Yeah.”

”I thought maybe you'd call.” He takes a step toward me and stops. ”I told your mom-”

”I've been out of it. Total jet lag.” And I've been avoiding you. Still.

He nods slowly. ”Did I wake you?”

I realize I'm not dressed for visitors. ”Sorry. I must look awful.”

He eyes my bare legs. ”I don't mind.” He gets his naughty grin on. ”Honest.” He walks up the cement path that leads across our scorched lawn to our white-painted porch-still looking at my legs. ”It's nice to see the real you.” A car zooms by behind him.

”Don't be morbid.” I slap at a mosquito on my thigh.

He comes up the porch steps and hands me an envelope. ”I brought these-if you still want them.” He's wearing a short tank top and cutoffs. He must be doing the weightlifting thing with his legs, too. Nice. His neck is even thicker now. And I can see real abs beginning to form on his stomach. And those shoulder muscles are even more defined.

I take the envelope from him, slide out a dark brown folder, and open it. There's Scott looking sharp in his black tux with his arms around a tall blonde stranger. ”This is me?”

He nods his head. ”One of you.” He stares for a moment. ”I think I like this one better.”

I manage an embarra.s.sed smile. ”That was the best night. You were so sweet. Thought of everything.”

”What did you like best?”

”The brownies-no, the dancing.” I get redder remembering how we slow danced.

”Too bad Colby is such a creep.”

I lean against the doorway with one leg bent up, like a stork. ”It did make it exciting.”

”But we didn't get to dance again.”

”That's right-you owe me a nice long slow dance.” I can say that now. I have Derek. I can tease Scott. We're friends.

”Okay.” He doesn't look at me like a friend. He looks at me like Derek does. He seems taller. Could he finally be growing? And he's been at the beach. His hair is blonder, and he's got a great tan. Scott messes with his iPod, moves in really close, hands me an ear bud-the first slow song we danced to plays. He puts the other end in his ear. ”Dance with me, Beth.” He smiles like he's playing around, but the intensity I read deep in the blue of his eyes says something else.

His arms go around me. He pulls me tight and lays his face on my chest. Shoot, he's wearing that same aftershave he had on prom night. I can't resist touching his shoulders. His bare leg brushes mine while we move to the music.

I close my eyes, and the lyrics take me back to that night: Remember when you first held me?

And I believed love could be?

Your lips awoke my senses.

You melted my defenses.

”You need to tell me something, Bethie.” Scott raises his face. ”I'll never bug you about it again, but it's driving me crazy. Promise you won't get mad?”

”At you? I'm never mad at you.” I stroke his head like at prom. Derek won't mind. Scott's my friend.

”Why didn't you let me kiss you good night? One kiss. What's so awful?”

Man, it's hot out. Sticky. ”You wanted to kiss me?” I really need a fan. How can he still do this to me? I have a boyfriend. I'm not starving anymore.

”Wasn't that obvious? Why did you run like that?”

I don't answer. Whispers of the words I wrote after my escape float through my memory.

Can't you see how much you have changed?

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