24. Andrea

CHAPTER 24

Andrea

S he's wearing the blue dress again.

She told me there were no guarantees when I asked if she would, but she steps out of the house in the dress I'll probably be picturing her wearing until the day I die. She's paired it with white sneakers and a cute little white headband this time. The colour scheme makes her cheeks look extra pink when she catches me staring at her from where I've been sitting out on the front steps.

"What?" she asks as she pats her hair down.

"You know what," I tell her, giving myself a few more seconds to stare before I get to my feet.

She gives my outfit a once-over and nods her approval once her eyes reach my face.

"You look so pretty," she says, stepping close enough to run a finger under the simple gold pendant I'm wearing to go with my purple skater skirt and white crop top.

"Is this good enough for our mystery venue?" I ask to distract myself from how good it feels to have her fingertip brushing my collarbones.

She lets go of my necklace and takes a step back before nodding. "It's perfect."

She insisted on taking care of all the planning after we decided the best way to celebrate my official decision to move to Ottawa was to go on our second date. It's been a few days since what we're now referring to as the Hardcore Pool Party Incident, and we've settled into the final stretch of our stay at the house together.

I lead the way down the path to the driveway. My heart skips a beat when Naomi reaches for my hand.

"Can you believe this?" I say once we're standing out on the curb waiting for our ride, her fingers still twined with mine. "We went from you thinking I was a burglar breaking into the house to murder you to holding hands while we go on our second date."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Yeah, even if I'd had a thousand tries to guess how this summer would end, I wouldn't have guessed this."

I watch the fading yellow rays of the sunset catch in her hair and make her skin glow gold. She smells like flowery shampoo and long afternoons spent lying in the grass, the scent of her mixing with the baked asphalt and sweet clover of another hot August day fading into night.

There's a breeze in the air that hints at the start of September. My dad and Sandy will be back from Italy next week. Naomi will go back to her parents' place, and I'll stay with my dad until I find some roommates to move in with.

"Good thing that data entry job pays so well," Naomi says, sliding her hand out of my grip so she can check our driver's progress on her phone. "We have to savor this ride, because I'm really going to need to ration my savings once I start school."

I trail my fingertips down her arm to let her know I want to hold her hand again, and she lets out an adorable giggle before wrapping her palm around mine.

I brush my thumb over her knuckles and ask, "How are you feeling about school, by the way?"

She sighs and stares down the wide, tree-lined street. "I'm not going to lie. It still terrifies me. So much is going to change in ways I can't even anticipate, but…well, it's not like I could have anticipated this ."

She bumps our joined hands against my leg, which makes it very hard not to pull her to my chest and kiss her in the middle of the sidewalk.

"And I like to think this is turning out pretty good," she adds, "so I'm doing my best to trust there's a chance the rest of my life will go well too. It's a new feeling."

I nod. "I get that. Trusting myself is a novelty for me too."

She looks back at me and lifts her mouth into a slight smile while she shakes her head.

"What?" I ask, already smiling back at her even though I have no idea what's got her so amused.

"It's just I never would have guessed that about you when I first met you. You seemed like someone who had never even heard of the idea of caring what other people think."

I chuckle and shrug. "Yeah, sorry to disappoint you."

Her eyes narrow, and she squares her shoulders off with mine as her voice turns serious.

"That's not the version of you I fell for," she says. "I mean, yeah, I was pretty star struck by that Andrea, and I know she's part of you too, but when I really fell for you was in all the quiet moments, when you let me see you're just as scared as the rest of us. You're scared, but you still show up, and…and that's what I want to do too."

My heart swells in my chest. For a moment, all I can do is squeeze her hand again while I search for the right words.

The way she makes me feel is bigger than words. It's as big as a blue summer sky, as a thousand leafy streets lined with a thousand towering mansions, as a glittering city flickering to life.

I'm still trying to figure out how to tell her that when our ride pulls up to the curb. We slide onto the backseat to sit side by side. I stare out the window and watch the quiet streets of my dad's neighborhood turn into the crowded buildings of downtown.

These streets are becoming familiar now. Soon I'll have my own place in this city—probably just a cramped little bedroom in some dingy townhouse with way too many roommates, but still, it will be mine. I'll be able to invite Naomi over. We'll be able to take this thing growing between us and give it all the time and care it needs to bloom.

I'll be able to do the same thing with whatever's growing in me. Those flimsy glimpses of my future I used to see out of the corner of my eye have finally caught up with me and taken hold, like seeds drifting on the wind before settling down to sprout roots.

"We're here!" Naomi says just as the driver swerves to pull up to the sidewalk.

She's bouncing in her seat, and she flings the door open the second the car shifts into park. She calls out a thank you to the driver as she bursts onto the sidewalk and waits for me to catch up.

"Oh my god," I say when I look over at the shop she keeps glancing at. "That's where we're going?"

The storefront is done up to look like an old-fashioned ice cream parlor, with a pink and white awning paired with brass accents and a logo printed in swirling Victorian script on the windows.

"That's where we're going first," Naomi says as she leads us over to the door. "I did pick somewhere for dinner, but I just figured since I ruined our ice cream cones last time, I should get us another round, and I was too excited about finding this place to wait until after dinner."

I raise my eyebrows when she looks back to find me standing with my hands on my hips after she's grabbed the brass door handle.

"I'm the one who ruined our ice cream cones," I say. "I wasn't exactly subtle about wanting to kiss you. Worth it, though. That was one of the best kisses of my life."

It only takes a second for a flush to start creeping up her neck.

"Really?"

I nod and step closer. "You blow everyone else out of the goddamn water, Naomi."

Her eyes widen. "Oh. Well, good."

I tip my head back to laugh and then place my hand on her lower back to guide her inside.

The shop smells like waffle cones and sugar. The chilly air inside makes goose bumps break out on my arms and legs, and once we've got our cones, we decide to sit on the bench outside to enjoy the warmth of the evening instead of taking one of the plush red vinyl booths lining the wall.

Naomi got strawberry cheesecake, and I went with double fudge. She hums her approval of the flavor after taking her first bite, her eyelids fluttering. I give her a light jab with my elbow.

"You're going to make me drop this one too if you keep that up."

She blushes even deeper than earlier, which just makes me want to abandon my ice cream even more.

We do our best to focus on dessert for the next few minutes. Even though it's a weeknight, the street is still rumbling with the hum of car engines and the chatter of pedestrians as they pass in front of our bench every now and then.

"So, is it safe to say we can break our rule now?" Naomi asks after using one of the napkins she grabbed to wipe a stray cheesecake glob off her hand.

I lower my cone and shift so I'm facing her. "And which rule would that be?"

"The one where we're not allowed to talk about anything past the end of the summer."

I'm about to tell her we've already broken that rule countless times since the Hardcore Pool Party Incident. I've filled her in on my conversations with my dad, which have been promising, as well my conversations with my mom, which have been less promising but still have the faintest trace of hope to them.

My dad wasn't even mad about the smashed sculpture, which was miraculously the only permanent damage we found amidst the sea of bottles and Solo cups. I told my dad I'd pay for the sculpture—which I would have done, even though it might have taken a couple years of monthly deposits—but he said the only thing he wanted to make up for it was some time with me.

I'm still not quite sure what to make of that, but I'm not absolutely dreading his and Sandy's return next week, which is saying something.

My mom keeps saying she needs time to process and doesn't know how she feels, but she also offered to ship some of the stuff I still have in my bedroom in Toronto. It's mostly just a few books and some clothes I didn't bother taking with me after high school, but she never offered to do that when I moved to Montreal.

I open my mouth to remind Naomi I've already told her all of that, but something about the nervous look in her eye and the way she's fidgeting with the edge of her dress makes me pause.

I realize we've talked about me staying in Ottawa, and we've talked about her starting school, but we haven't really talked about what's going to happen with us .

"I'm ready to forget about that rule," I say, "if you are."

She nods and smoothes her dress over the tops of her thighs.

"So, I'm still not sure exactly where my life is going," I begin. "I think I've got some catching up to do with the whole figuring out what I want to be when I grow up thing, but I'm ready for it. I'm not running away from what feels right anymore. I've actually, um, put in a request to join a public speaking course."

Her eyes light up as she gasps. "You didn't tell me that! That's so cool."

I nod and drop my gaze down to my ice cream cone as my face heats up.

"Thanks. I figure I can do some little courses like that to help me decide what I'm passionate about, as much as I can when I'm not working whatever job I get for now. I always loved when my mom let me make little speeches to her class when she brought me to the studio on special occasions, and doing the open mic night made me remember how much I miss stuff like that. I love music, but only as a hobby. I've never wanted to make it a career, but the being up in front of a crowd part of it, getting them all to feel something…maybe there's something there for me. It's not much, but it's something."

She stops fussing with her dress and lays her hand on my arm instead. "It's more than something. It's awesome. I'm…I'm really proud of you."

Those words make me glow so bright I'm in danger of melting my ice cream.

"Thanks," I mumble. "I don't want you to think I don't have any goals, or that I'm just hanging around town to be lazy, or—"

"Hey." She squeezes my arm to cut me off. "I've never thought that. You're allowed to need time to figure it out."

I pause and let those words sink in. Part of me wants to argue and tell her there's no way she's not rethinking being on a date with someone whose life is as messy as mine, but I stay still and quiet until that part of me quiets down too.

If we're going to do this for real, I have to believe her. I have to believe in myself.

"I just really want you to know that I'm serious about things," I say. "I'm serious about living here. I'm serious about finding my passion, and I'm serious about…us."

"Us?" she murmurs.

I suck in a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut as I urge myself to keep going.

"Yeah, us. I want to…I want to date you, Naomi. I want you to be a part of my life, whatever it ends up looking like. I'm not sure of much, but I'm sure of that. I've been sure of that for way longer than I've been ready to admit it, and…I'm ready now. I'm ready to tell you I think I might be falling in love with you too."

I still have my eyes shut, but I can feel Naomi watching me. She's silent for so long a trickle of melted ice cream starts sliding down my fingers. I squeeze the cone so tight I'm sure I'm going to crush it, but I don't open my eyes until I feel her shift close enough to press the side of her leg against mine.

When I see her staring at me with a look that says she's full of that same feeling as me, the one that's far too big for words, I know there's no hope for our ice cream.

Both cones splat against the sidewalk as we lunge for each other. Her hands end up locked behind my neck while mine frame her face. Her lips are sweet and sticky against mine, and she shivers when I swipe my tongue over them before pulling her even closer.

She tastes like a summer that never, ever ends.