Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

DANIEL

Margo Blakely kissed me.

Her lips on mine.

I smile, trying to remember the feeling as long as I can.

My chest is ready to explode, pulse skyrocketing. I can't look away from her big brown eyes. They're like a hug to my soul, and I almost believe I matter. That I'm someone that deserves to be wanted.

Rain starts to pour, breaking our eye contact.

Without a care in the world, Margo tilts her head back, letting the raindrops fall across her face. She probably shouldn't be out in the rain. What if it makes her sicker?

"Let's go," I say, tugging on her arm.

She shakes her head as she jumps up. "I've always wondered what it would be like to do this." She spins in the rain, arms out, and her joy is contagious. She looks happy jumping and twirling around. She's truly happy, and I can't help but smile, admiring her, off to the side.

"Come on," she says, waving me over. Then she runs up and grabs me, pulling me back to where she was .

"I don't know what to do." I've never once thought to myself, I should dance in the rain.

"Just have fun," she says. She reaches her hands up, cupped together to catch water. She's glowing. She's beautiful.

I get the overwhelming urge to take her hand. I twirl her around, catching her when she spins back. I rest my hand on her waist. It's shaking, and I hope she doesn't notice. I can't breathe as I smile down at her soaked bangs plastered to her face. I move them out of her eyes, trying to tuck them behind her ear even though it doesn't do much since they're so short.

I press my lips against hers, heart exploding in disbelief as I kiss her. There's a fear in the back of my head saying she'll pull away, but she doesn't. She leans into me, and I can feel her smile as she kisses me back.

Rain pours down on us, but it doesn't matter. We're in our own little world where time stands still. I know there are eight billion people on this earth, but I've never been more sure that Margo Blakely was made for me.

Her lips are soft, and her hand travels up to the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. I pull her closer, if that's possible, because I want this moment to last forever. I kiss her like this is the only chance I'll ever have. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but right now we're together. It feels right.

When she finally pulls back, I wrap my arms around her. Her head rests against my chest, and I hold her there like she's my missing puzzle piece. She fits so perfectly that I forget she can't stay in my arms forever.

She shakes against me, and my hands are on her shoulders in an instant. I look into her eyes. "What's wrong?" I tilt her head to see either side of her face. "Are you okay? "

"I'm a little cold."

Right. Pouring rain. It makes sense.

"Let's go inside."

"What about our food?" she asks.

The paper plates are soaked through. The toppings of my pizza are falling off in a wet heap. "There's no saving it. We'll have to get something else," I say as I gather it up to throw away.

We run to the nearest building. It's humongous with vendors at one end and exhibitions at the other. It's packed with everyone trying to stay dry. However, everyone else came right when the rain started. They aren't dripping wet like Margo and me.

My shoes squeak, and my soles slosh with every step I take, leaving wet footprints behind. Margo has the same problem, but she doesn't seem upset by it. She's looking around like she's forgotten she's drenched.

There has to be something to wear in this place. Something we can buy to get out of these wet clothes.

Margo is sidetracked by a lady selling different jams and jellies. I take her hand and lead her through the crowd, trying to see the booths over the tops of people's heads as we pass. Each booth is separated by tall black fabric that acts as temporary walls.

"What are you looking for?" she asks.

"We need to find something you can wear that's warm and dry." We pass stands with hair products, people selling knives, even hats and sunglasses, but no clothes.

Margo tugs back on my hand. "It's okay. I'm fine."

I shake my head. "No. It's my turn to take care of you."

Her ears turn pink, and she smiles. We continue weaving through people. "Hey, what about that!" she says, pointing toward a booth in the far corner. There's a rack with black T-shirts next to a bunch of bedazzled belts and baseball caps.

I lead Margo to it, and she gasps as soon as she starts rifling through them.

"What?" I ask.

She takes one off the rack and shows me. The shirt has a drawing of a s'more on it with the words, Life's s'more fun with you. "You are going to need one too."

"No. Definitely not."

Margo puts it back, grinning as she carefully examines every single one. "This one would be perfect for you!"

It's one with a carrot that says, I don't carrot all.

"Not going to happen," I say.

She holds it in front of me as if she's imagining me wearing it. "But it would look so good on you."

My chest squeezes, and I know I'm blushing.

How am I supposed to tell her no? I can't. Not when she smiles at me like this. I want her to look at me this way forever.

I take the shirt from her.

"Oh," she says, covering her mouth. "Are you really going to wear it?"

I nod.

She does a little hop. "Really?"

A smile pulls at me. "Yes, but only for you." I start looking at the other T-shirts. "But I'm going to pick yours."

"That seems fair."

She tries to peer over, but I step in the way so she can't see.

"Pick a good one," she says.

"Don't worry. I will." I pull one off the rack quickly. The shirt seems like it might be a little too big, but this is the right one. I know she'll like it. "Close your eyes."

She does and stands there, waiting.

I hold it up for her, hoping that she won't think it's too silly. "Open."

" I like you a latte ," she reads.

"I like you too," I say.

She tilts her head and locks eyes with me, a coy smile on her lips.

"Did you see what I did there?"

"Yeah, I did." She reaches for the shirt.

I dodge her. "So what do you think? Do you like it?"

She laughs. I want that sound to burn its way into my brain. Calming, joyful, relaxing. I'm addicted to hearing it again.

"Hand it over," she says. She puts a hand on my shoulder for leverage and stands on her tiptoes, arm stretched up high against mine. My hand is just out of reach with the shirt.

I peer down. She's so focused on the shirt that she doesn't notice me taking her wrist and tipping my head down to kiss her again.

She freezes, and her brown eyes grow big as she blushes. "Daniel Hansen..."

I smile. "Margo Blakely . . ."

She grabs the shirt out of my hand, holding it close. Then she opens her purse, looking for her card to pay.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," she says, shaking her head.

I grab cash out of my pocket before she can find her card. I'm going to pay before she has a chance to. As I pass her, I whisper, "You can do whatever you want." Her jaw hits the floor, and I swipe the T-shirt back. "I'm paying. "

She doesn't say anything, and I'm convinced it's because she can't. She's speechless. She doesn't know how to react to this side of me.

I don't even recognize myself. I'm smiling and laughing way more than I ever have before. Every time she looks at me, my heart races.

After I buy the shirts, we change in the bathrooms. I change faster than her and wait against the wall for her to come out.

She opens the women's bathroom door slightly. "Don't laugh," she says. Then she steps out in a shirt that reaches halfway down her thighs, and the top of her overalls are unfastened and hanging down as if they're just pants, the straps peeking out from under the shirt. I don't blame her for not wanting to put the wet denim back on all the way, but I can't help but chuckle.

She pushes my shoulder. "I told you not to laugh."

"I'm not," I say as I laugh.

"It's not funny," she says, but she starts laughing too.

I hold my index finger and thumb close together. "Maybe just a little."

"It is not," she argues.

I take out my phone and snap a picture. "See for yourself." I show her the picture.

She covers her face with her hands and giggles. "Okay, you're right. Just delete the proof."

I shake my head. "Nah, this is going to be my screensaver."

"Your screensaver? No, it's awful."

I shrug. "Well, it's the only picture I have of you."

She crosses her arms. "Then take another one."

I like the picture I took, but I wouldn't mind another one. She could fill my camera roll if she wanted to, but I don't really know how to take a picture the way she wants. I hold the phone the same way as before, and I can tell by her expression she isn't impressed.

"Let me show you," she says, taking the phone from me. "Let's use the front camera." She links her arm in mine and holds the phone up with her other hand. It's high up and tilted down. "Smile."

She proceeds to take, not just one, but at least thirty pictures. She changes her pose in between with different expressions. I, on the other hand, smile at her.

"Come on, do something fun," she says.

I kiss her cheek.

She gasps, then she clears her throat. "I think you have some more pictures to choose from," she says, handing my phone back.

She's right. The last picture we took is the best, much better than the first one I took. I'm kissing Margo, and from first glance, she's shocked with her jaw dropping. But when I hold down the live photo, her face breaks into a smile.

This is my new screensaver.

When the rain stops, we head back outside. We're both starving since neither one of us had a chance to eat before our food was ruined. Margo gets a burger, and I get a slice of cheese pizza. Then we spend the next hour or so trying rides and games until we're both exhausted.

I follow Margo around to everything that catches her eye (which is a lot) and admire the way she takes in the world around her. Nothing is boring or trivial to her. She wants to learn and experience as much as she can.

I walk with Margo down the street toward her house. I wasn't about to let her take the bus home alone. Not when I could spend more time with her.

"Did you have fun?" I ask.

She smiles. "Yeah."

I rub the back of my neck. "That's good."

She stops and points at her big white house with the porch light on. "We're here."

My heart flutters with disappointment. The night is ending too soon.

She wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes me tight. "Thank you for tonight."

I hug her back, wishing she'd stay here, but I know she needs to go inside. We can't stand out here all night no matter how much I want to. "Can I see you again?"

"You'll see me at school," she says.

"And after that?"

She laughs. "Yes."

Margo keeps her word, and that's the only reason I let her go. I know if she says I'll see her tomorrow, I will.

"Goodbye," I say, waving.

She waves back. "I'll see you later."

Still, when she steps away, my heart pulls away with her. A weight immediately falls on my shoulders, and there's an uneasy pit growing in my stomach. It's a longing and fear that I'm going to carry as long as we're apart. I know the only way to ease my worry is to have her in my arms every possible second.

I'm addicted to Margo.

She waves before stepping inside her house .

As I walk back to the bus stop, I look at our photos and my new screensaver, and I smile. If I wake up tomorrow and think this was all a dream, I have proof that tonight happened.

I kissed Margo.

Margo kissed me.

I replay it in my head the whole ride home. I can't keep still. My foot taps, and my heart pounds as I remember the feeling of her hands in my hair and the way she held my hand most of the night.

When I get home, it's dark and quiet, but Olive's light shines from underneath her door. I can't help myself from knocking on it.

"Yes?" she says.

I open the door and slip inside.

Olive is sitting at her desk cross-legged doing homework. She glances over her shoulder and raises an eyebrow. "Daniel?"

I close the door behind me and rest my head against it.

"Is something wrong?" she asks, still obviously confused by why I'm in her room.

I shake my head and smile.

"Oh," she says as if she's piecing together what happened. "So you and Margo are getting along."

My smile widens. "She kissed me."

Olive spins around. "So you're in here to what? Brag?"

"Maybe," I say. My gaze shifts from Olive to my hands. "I just felt like telling someone, and you're the only person I could think of."

She laughs, shaking her head. "You've got it bad."

"I really like her," I say. It feels good to say it out loud to someone else. It makes it seem more official. Like it isn't some secret between Margo and me. Now Olive knows too.

Olive rests her arms on the back of her chair. "You're like a lovesick puppy, and I don't know whether it's cute or gross."

I scowl. "Cute. Definitely cute."

"I didn't know you could be like this. You're like a completely different person," she says.

"No, I'm not."

"Have you, um"—she clears her throat—"seen what you're wearing?"

Heat rises to my face as I look down at the shirt. "Don't be jealous."

"You don't have to worry about that. I will gladly let you keep that shirt."

My phone buzzes.

"It's Margo, isn't it?"

I nod.

Olive rolls her eyes with a smile. "Go on. Get out of here and talk to your girlfriend."

At this point, my face hurts from smiling so much. I don't have to be told twice.

"Hey," I say once I'm back in my room.

"Hi," she says.

I lie down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. "Why'd you call?"

"Annie just told me she's working tomorrow, so I'm free if you want to do something."

Of course I want to do something. "Like another date?"

Her nervous laugh fills the line. "Well, yeah. Unless you don't want it to be. It doesn't have to be, but then again, if you wanted to—"

"It's a date," I say .

"It's a date," she echoes.

"So what do you want to do?"

She hums as she thinks. "I think you should pick. I picked the fair."

I agree because I want to be with her, but I have absolutely no idea where we should go.

The next day

I need help. I want to spoil Margo but I have no idea how to do that. I sit in the back of the library tapping my pencil against one of the tables.

"What's wrong?" Annie asks.

I let out a sigh of relief. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."

She raises an eyebrow and shows me her phone.

Daniel:

SOS come to the library immediately.

Olive comes running up too. Her long hair is pulled back into a high ponytail. "What's the emergency?"

I tap the table with both of my hands. "I'm supposed to take Margo on a date."

Both girls give me a look.

"I thought something bad happened," Olive says.

"Same," Annie says. She eyes Olive cautiously.

"The date is tonight, and I don't know what to do." I'm not good at this stuff. I'm going to mess it up somehow, and I can't do that.

Olive takes a seat across from me. "Well, what have you figured out so far? "

I rub my face and scratch the back of my head. "Nothing."

Annie pulls out the seat next to Olive and sits. "Oh boy, it really is an emergency."

I groan. "I know. I read this article online that said I should take her on a picnic because that's one of the most romantic dates, but I don't know if that's a good idea because it says it might rain. I also don't know what to make for it. Is Margo allergic to anything?"

Annie laughs. "I was joking. You're overthinking it. Margo is going to like whatever you decide to do."

"But I want it to be perfect."

"Well, what does she like?" Olive asks.

"She loves to dress up," Annie says. "Take her to a nice restaurant."

"You don't think that's too simple?" I ask. I thought about taking her to a restaurant but that's what everyone does. I figured a date with Margo needed to be extra special to impress her.

"She's never been on a date like that before. Every girl deserves to go to a nice restaurant at least once," Annie says.

"Do I have to dress up too?" I ask.

"Yes," they say in unison.

Sweat starts to build on my brow. "I don't have clothes like that."

Olive hits the table. "Don't worry. I'll take care of that. We'll go shopping after school."

"And I'll help Margo get ready," Annie says.

"You guys would do that?" I ask. I don't know why they'd be so willing to help me. It's not like I've done anything for them.

"Of course," Olive says. She jumps up. "I gotta go talk to Mrs. Benson about the homework I may or may not have done last night."

"Who was that?" Annie asks after Olive leaves.

"That's my cousin, Olive," I say.

"She reminds me of Margo a little bit."

They're both bubbly and talkative. "I can see that," I say. But Olive doesn't have the confidence that Margo does. She doesn't open up to people until she's comfortable with them.

"She's nice," Annie says, standing up.

I wonder if Annie and Olive would get along.

Annie waves. "I'll drop Margo off on my way to work. Just text me the restaurant you decide on and the time."

"I will," I say.

The day drags on because all I can think about is taking Margo out again. When school finally finishes, I rush home to ask Laura to take Olive and me to the mall.

She was supposed to drop us off, but I could tell she wanted to come. I don't know why, but I asked her to come in with us. I didn't want to make her feel left out. Besides, she's offered to pay for the clothes.

Olive runs ahead to open the doors. "After you."

"Thanks," I say, walking in.

The store is massive. There's racks and racks of clothes. Mannequins stand in front of each section, modeling different outfits. Most of the clothes are sweaters and puffer jackets. Even though it isn't that cold yet, the stores are already getting ready for winter.

"Don't just stand there," Olive says. "Start looking."

I bite my lip, turning but not knowing where to go.

Olive loops her arm around mine. "You're like a little kid sometimes," she says, leading the way. She takes me to the men's section. She walks straight to suits. There are black, blue, and a few colorful options.

They're nice. Really nice, but they're so fancy. I've never worn something that nice before.

Olive pulls one off the rack and holds it up, eyeing me. "This looks like the right size. Try it on."

I rub the back of my neck. "Don't you think it's a little too much?"

"I think it would look amazing," Olive says.

Laura hasn't said much. I notice her going through the suits behind Olive, and she pauses when she looks at the price tag. It's a subtle grimace that most people would probably ignore, but I know she's concerned.

I hang the suit back up. "I want something a little more casual."

Olive huffs. "Casual?"

"It can still be nice."

"Mom, tell him he needs to dress up," Olive says, turning to Laura.

Laura smiles. "Why don't you compromise." She pulls out a dark blue blazer. "If you wear a nice shirt with this, it'll be perfect."

"That's not bad," Olive says. "I'm going to go find a shirt."

I take the blazer. The fabric is nice and smooth. I normally prefer black, but this color feels more like Margo. I like that. The price is a lot less than the suit, but it still isn't cheap. "Are you sure this is okay? You don't have to buy me new clothes. I can wear some of the other ones you bought me."

Laura raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. "Why would you say that?"

I stare down at the tag again. "It's expensive."

"So? "

"If it's too much, you don't have to buy it."

Her face softens. "If I couldn't afford it, I wouldn't have brought you here."

Olive comes running back with a white dress shirt. "I found one," she says, smiling.

Laura takes it and hands it to me. "Go try these on."

I take the clothes, but I'm not completely convinced. Laura and Rob have never talked about being tight on money before, so maybe I'm reading into things too much. Or maybe they're trying to save with a new baby coming.

The dressing room is a little crowded. I wait my turn as Olive and Laura keep looking around.

"Make sure you show us what it looks like," Olive calls.

I nod with a soft smile.

Once it's my turn, I lock myself in the dressing room and pull my shirt over my head. I put on the white dress shirt, buttoning it up to the top button. Then I slip into the blazer. I pull it straight and smooth it as I stare in the mirror.

My heart skips thinking about Margo standing next to me. I think she'd like this, and I want to impress her every chance I get. I want to be a better person for her. I want to deserve her.

Before stepping out, I ruffle my hair, trying to picture how it'll look when it's styled, but it doesn't do any good. Olive is probably going to have to help me with it again.

Olive and Laura are both looking at clothes again, pulling random outfits for me to try. I don't say anything. I'm too busy watching them laughing and smiling as they pick out my clothes. I wonder if this is what it would've felt like to go shopping with my mother if she were still here. Would she smile and laugh the same way ?

Laura notices me standing off to the side. She gasps, walking closer. "Well, don't you look handsome."

Olive squeals, running up. The pile of clothes in her arms is almost overflowing. "This looks so good."

"Yeah?" I turn to make sure they can see the whole outfit.

"You look so grown up," Laura says. "Never mind. You're growing up too fast. I don't think we should get it."

"Mom!" Olive says. She shakes her head and turns to me. "Ignore her."

"I'm joking," Laura says with a laugh.

I like her laugh.

Olive hands me her pile of clothes. "Try these too."

"But this works," I say, touching the blazer.

"You could use more than one nice outfit," Laura says, shooing me back toward the fitting room. "Go before I change my mind."

I stagger back with the armload of clothes and a smile. "Okay."