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  Again, he winked at me in the mirror. I would have to ask him about that later.

  “Well, dear, aren’t you charming,” she said smugly. “You keep a firm grasp on this one sweetheart. He’s a keeper.”

  The rest of the drive, she kept her thoughts to herself. Unfortunately, she insisted on singing along to the radio. Chaseyn had tuned in to an oldies station thinking my grandma would appreciate the effort, and he was right. From Frankie Valley to Patsy Cline, she hummed, whistled, and sang along to nearly every tune. Once at home, Chaseyn managed to extricate my grandma’s bags from the car and haul them upstairs to the guest room.

  “Honey, I’m just going to freshen up, and then, we should get some dinner,” my grandma hollered from her room. “Chaseyn, will you join us?”

  I nodded silently, urging him to agree to the challenge.

  “I would love to stay and get to know you better, Mrs. Vanderwold,” he started, doing his best to hide his sarcasm. “But I have a ton of homework, and I’m sure you would like to catch up with Cordelia without me hanging around.”

  From across the room, I made a motion indicating that if he was standing closer, I would wring his neck.

  “Nonsense, dear. We would love to have you, but it’s very sweet of you to give us some time together. We clearly have a lot of catching up to do,” she said in a sugary, yet chiding, tone.

  When I heard the bathroom door close and the faucet come on, I knew we had a few moments alone. I took the opportunity to question Chaseyn about something he had said earlier. Something that had been weighing heavy on my mind all afternoon.

  “What do you mean you wouldn’t dream of sleeping with me,” I asked Chaseyn candidly. “You wouldn’t even dream about it?”

  “Seriously, Cordelia. You have to ask? I dream about you all the time. Even when I’m awake, I dream of you, and you and me together.”

  A smile flickered across his face as he took my hands in his own and pulled me against his chest. I could feel his breath warm on my neck and ear as he dropped his head down to mine. His breathing was shallow, matching my own. Heat from our fused bodies seared through my veins like electricity.

  “All the time,” he whispered again in my ear. I turned my head to the side so that our lips were perfectly aligned. Mouths slightly parted, we locked together in a kiss that rocked me to the core.

  After a brief moment, Chaseyn pulled away abruptly.

  “I have to go,” he said hotly.

  “Don’t go,” I pleaded. “Stay.”

  “I meant what I said before,” he said sincerely. “Until we can truly commit…”

  He didn’t need to finish the thought. I remembered all too clearly what he had told my grandma in the car. Only then, I thought the wink he had given me in the mirror was his version of having his fingers crossed behind his back. Now, I knew he meant every word, and I was taken aback by his humility.

  “You’re a virgin,” I said exuberantly. “I just assumed…”

  “I never said that,” he was quick to correct. “I just don’t want to make any mistakes, rush anything. You deserve better.”

  “What if I’m not a virgin,” I asked.

  “But you are,” he replied. “And it wouldn’t matter if you weren’t. I wouldn’t do anything differently.”

  He took a few slow steps backward until he was just outside the kitchen. Then, he turned and walked quietly to the door. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and my grandma started down the stairs.

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Vanderwold. It was lovely to meet you,” Chaseyn shouted as he stepped outside.

  “I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of each other,” she replied. “So, Lia, what should we do now?”

  Chaseyn had picked me up from work to take me to the airport. It had been an early morning, and the only thing I had eaten all day was a sticky bun that Mrs. Olsen had insisted I take for the ride. All I could think about—aside from Chaseyn—was food.

  “Let’s eat,” I said, jumping up from the couch where I had flopped down upon Chaseyn’s departure. I grabbed a fistful of take-out menus from the drawer beside the fridge, and raced back to confer with my grandmother. I fanned out the menus on the table and asked, “What’s your poison?”

  Chapter 16 - Introductions

  Grandma and I had spent the entire night curled up around the fireplace eating Chinese straight from the cardboard boxes and talking about anything and everything. We were like two long lost girlfriends sharing our deepest secrets and giggling like schoolgirls, which I, of course, was. My grandmother was somewhat unconventional—she wasn’t quite like anyone else I had ever met— and I loved her for it. She was one of my best friends and my hero. Until recently, I had always been closer to her than my own mom.

  Mostly, she asked about Kevin—if I liked him, was he good to my mom, and what were his plans for the future. I answered everything honestly. I explained that I hadn’t seen my mom so happy in years. Kevin was the reason, and I thought he was great. He tried so hard to make us both happy. He never overstepped his boundaries and understood the importance of being my friend rather than a parent figure. I appreciated his efforts. If my instincts were correct, Kevin would seize the holidays to present my mom with a completely lavish gift in a small velvet box. At one time, I would have been distraught by such a notion, but now, I could only feel total contentment.

  My grandma had a theory. She was certain Chaseyn was the reason for the resolution of my inner turmoil. She continued to grill me about him and our relationship. I told her that we had only met a few weeks ago, and of course I gave her the standard line about us being young and in no way ready for a serious commitment, but my heart suggested otherwise. I kept the last part from her. I wasn’t ready to openly admit that to anyone yet. Even I had trouble believing it sometimes.

  My mom came home around 9 p.m., and I left the two of them alone to play catch up. They wouldn’t share nearly as much with each other, but they still needed to connect without me hovering. Besides, I was running on fumes, so I decided to shower and call it a night.

  Before the sun could even creep into my window the next morning, I was awakened by a rasping against the window. After a few minutes of orientation, I crawled out from under my cozy quilt to see what was disturbing my otherwise restful slumber.

  I reached the window just in time to see a tiny pebble scrape the sill as gravity pulled it back down to earth. Another hit the pane, startling me as I struggled to see through the darkness. Squinting, my eyes adjusted slowly, and a dark figure started to take shape on the ground below. With my grandmother in the next room, I knew it was only a matter of time before he woke her too. Rather than calling down to him and risking waking her, I fumbled in the darkness for my cordless phone and hit speed dial.

  “It’s about time,” he said impatiently. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for twenty minutes.”

  “What time is it,” I whispered, creeping across the room to check the clock on my bedside table. “Chaseyn, it’s barely 5 a.m. What are you doing here?”

  “Get dressed,” he said cryptically. “There’s something I have to show you.”

  “Now? Can’t it wait,” I asked somewhat irritated. Though I had gone to bed early, I was feeling less than well rested. I had been neglecting my body’s needs lately, and I really needed a good night’s sleep.

  “No. It has to be now,” he said, a hint of desperation apparent in his voice. “It’s important.”

  Hanging up the phone, I walked back to the window to find Chaseyn looking up at me with pleading eyes. How could I resist?

  Hurriedly, I scrambled around my room in the dark. I didn’t want to risk waking my mom or grandma by turning on a light. Sweatpants and an oversized fleece hoodie would have to do. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and accessorized with a baseball cap. I felt confident that Chaseyn wasn’t with me for my looks, so my appearance was of little concern.

  I’d never attempted to sneak out of the house before, and I wasn�
��t quite sure how to do it. It was normal practice for me to wake in the wee hours to use the bathroom or grab a drink, but my mom was usually in a deep sleep at those hours. Now, it was nearing a respectable time for a woman who worked shifts to begin stirring. And, I had read some place that people need less sleep as they age, so I figured my grandma might be awake by now, too. Opening the door slowly, I peeked around the edge of the jamb, looking for signs of life. Nothing. The coast was clear, so I darted down the hall. Pulling off a bandage quickly caused less pain, and I figured this was similar; better to get it over quickly. I pranced down the stairs, avoiding the last two because years of walking the same path had taught me that they would creak under my weight. I jumped daintily to the floor below.

  Chaseyn met me at the door with a quick kiss. He grabbed my hand and guided me down the street to the next block. He had the good sense not to park in front of my house. The roar of the engine coming to life would surely wake my neighbors on our quiet cul-de-sac. I didn’t need them telling my mom they had seen Chaseyn and I racing away under the cover of night.

  “Where are we going?’

  “Shhh,” was all he said. Inside the car, he was equally as quiet, turning the radio to a classical soundtrack as we drove outside the town’s limits toward the foothills. About fifteen minutes later, he came to a halt on the side of the road. Chaseyn instructed me to stay put. He stopped to pull something from the trunk before coming around to my side of the car. Handing me the same blanket he had wrapped about my shoulders the day of our picnic in the schoolyard, he lifted my hand and guided me into a large field. We stopped about 100 yards in, and he pulled a small telescope from a bag I hadn’t realized he was carrying over his right shoulder.

  “Look. There,” he instructed, and I caught sight of a million dazzling lights falling through the dark sky.

  “It’s amazing.”

  “It’s a meteor shower,” he explained. “Haven’t you seen it before; it takes place the same time each year.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever taken the time to look up.”

  He was holding me now, standing behind me with his arms wrapped loosely around my waist.

  “Don’t overlook the little things,” he whispered into my ear, grazing my lobe with his lip as he spoke. My entire body trembled.

  “Cordelia?”

  “Um hmm,” I muttered, easing my head back against his shoulder. Despite the beautiful display above us, I couldn’t help but close my eyes to let my other senses experience the moment. The wind blowing cold in my face made my eyes water, and my nose was overpowered by his amazing fragrance. He smelled like soap. Fresh. I placed my hands over his, pressing them tighter against me. “Chaseyn? What is it?”

  I turned to face him. He was pale, and his eyes were focused on the ground. After a moment, he looked up from under his lashes so that we were eye to eye.

  “I love you,” he said softly, taking me by surprise. For weeks, I had been experiencing overwhelming feelings for Chaseyn, but I had tried desperately to push them from my mind. Over and over again, I told myself that he would never feel the same so there was no point in getting my hopes up. Now, he was standing before me openly declaring his deepest emotions.

  We were too young to feel so strongly. I was sure. But somehow, Ì could only think about how much I wanted to be with him, forever. I would do nearly anything to ensure that happened. Resting my cold hand on his chin, I pulled his face up to mine.

  “I love you, Chaseyn. More than you know.”

  Chaseyn spread a second blanket on the ground, and we lay together, my head coiled into the crook of his arm, legs curled into his side. The sparkling crystals in the sky soon gave way to the sunrise. Though I wanted the moment to last forever, I knew I had to get home before anyone realized I was gone. Chaseyn gently rolled his body so that it arched lightly over mine, barely touching any part of me. He leaned down and kissed me tenderly, then passionately, before pulling me to my feet. We walked, arms entwined, to the car, stopping frequently to kiss en route.

  He drove quickly; the voice on the radio announcing that the time was nearing 7 a.m. I would have to work extra hard to ensure I didn’t wake my mom or grandma on my way inside. Again, he parked on the next street to avoid raising suspicion amongst my nosy neighbors, who would be all too eager to share their observations with my mom.

  “When I’m with you, I can control my destiny,” he said shyly as I prepared to exit the vehicle.

  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

  “You will one day,” he added. “I promise.”

  Confused but intoxicated by the warmth of our incredible experience, I stepped out of the car and walked alone to the house under the guise that I had gone for an early morning stroll. He watched as I walked away, never averting his eyes until he saw that I had safely reached my house.

  “Grandma,” I exclaimed in shock. She was sitting on the couch pretending to read the newspaper.

  “Don’t worry,” she said calmly. “Your mother’s still asleep. She doesn’t suspect a thing.”

  “Nothing happened,” I said, feeling the need to declare my innocence. “We weren’t doing anything you wouldn’t approve of.”

  “Sweetheart, there’s no need to explain. I trust you,” she said.

  “But seriously,” I insisted, feeling a little bit like I was on trial even though I knew she truly wasn’t worried. “We were watching the meteor shower.”

  “He’s quite different from other boys your age, isn’t he,” she asked. I nodded in agreement. She seemed satisfied. “He’s very mysterious.”

  “Ugh,” was all I could manage to say.

  “You had better go pretend to be asleep for awhile,” she urged. “Actually, you must be tired. You should try to rest a bit. I’ll cover for you.”

  She was right. I was beat, and the thought of laying in my soft bed dreaming about Chaseyn seemed the perfect antidote.

  To avoid raising awareness of our earlier escapade, Chaseyn showed up, as usual, moments before lunch. I had just risen from a very contented slumber. He seemed perfectly well rested. My mom was sufficiently deceived by his ruse. My grandma just winked and nudged him in the ribs. He understood and immediately looked shyly down.

  Typically, we would spend the day around the house, but I wanted to give my grandma some time to get to know Kevin better without being preoccupied with Chaseyn and I, so we left the house in search of something to do knowing that nothing could live up to our early morning rendez vous.

  “What do you want to do now,” Chaseyn asked as we walked out into the sunlight.

  “Isn’t it time I saw where you live, met your mom,” I asked, only half teasing.

  Chaseyn stopped abruptly, pondering the question for a moment. I couldn’t tell if he thought it was preposterous or if he was relieved.

  “I wasn’t sure you would want to meet my mom,” he said.

  The words cut to my core. For weeks, Chaseyn and I had spent nearly every waking moment together. Like many other boys my age, I thought maybe he hadn’t told his mom about me, but I cleared that up about three weeks ago when I asked him where he mother thought he was spending all of his time. He assured me that she was well aware of my existence and the important place I had in his heart. Chaseyn and his mother had an unusual relationship. They were very open and honest with one another, sharing all of the most personal and intimate parts of their lives. This made me wonder even more why he hadn’t taken me to meet her yet. She filled such an enormous space in his heart, I wanted to know who I was sharing this role with.

  “Are you kidding me,” I asked incredulously. “Of course I want to meet her. I’m just worried you don’t want me to meet her. Are you embarrassed?”

  I had started to continue walking toward the car, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back to face him. His eyes were intense.

  “Don’t ever think that,” he said sternly. “That’s not it at all.”

  “So what is it?”

&nb
sp; “My mom isn’t like other moms,” he said in a low voice. He had told me plenty about her, and nothing had indicated she was any different than the average woman, other than her incredible musical talent.

  “What do you mean,” I asked curiously.

  “You’ll see,” he said smugly.

  Less than ten minutes later, we arrived at his house, a quaint abode nestled in some trees near the river. It was a one-and-a-half storey war-time house that was completely uncharacteristic of the community. The chocolate brown stucco was accented with royal blue eaves, and wooden shutters shielded the windows from rays of light that crept in between the trees.

  A cobblestone walk paved the way to the front porch, weaving at least a half acre through thick fir trees and deciduous shrubs that had shed their green fringes in exchange for blankets of shimmering hoarfrost. It was like walking through a winter wonderland—the kind that decorated the face of holiday cards at Christmastime. How ironic, I thought, given that Christmas was only six days away.