The Academy

Chapter Twenty-Two

                   

My parents weren't used to Boston traffic, so we reached The Cellar fifteen minutes after five. When we pulled into the parking lot, I could see through the window that Tatum, Colleen, Sierra, and Bryan had already been seated by the one and only Arlo.

         "Is that them?" Mom asked, pointing to the table. I had a serious pet peeve of people pointing, so I pushed her arm down.

         "Don't point." She looked down at the ground like a puppy who had just been scolded after being caught chewing on a shoe. "Yes, it is."

         "Well," my father began, pulling the brown belt around his khaki pants farther up to his chest, "we should probably get in there so they aren't waiting too long."

         At the sight of us, Tatum's mouth curled into a grin and he slid over in the round booth to make room for me beside him.

         "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Stockholm," Bryan said, standing up to greet my father with a firm handshake. "Welcome to Boston."

         "You have a beautiful city," my mother said to Colleen, who was smoothing her deep-violet dress with the palms of her hands. "Lots of traffic, but beautiful nonetheless."

         Colleen replied with a wide-mouthed laugh and all the parents sat down around the table. Sierra and I made eye contact and she rolled her eyes, signaling her annoyance with the adults.

         As we all ordered our drinks, Tatum got extremely close to my ear and whispered, "A situation has arisen. We need to talk."

         "Now?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

         "Yes. Right now." He began to slide out of the booth and I followed him, hand in hand. To the adults and Sierra, he said, "I'll be right back, I've got to talk to Kayleigh about something school-related. It's extremely important."

         "Don't be long!" Colleen called out.

         Tatum dragged me to the outside of The Cellar, where a bald, portly man was smoking a cigarette with one hand and holding a cell phone to his ear with the other. "You will not believe what my parents gave me before we came here."

         "What?"

         He rubbed his forehead with the fingertips of his left hand and reached into his pants pocket with his right. The hand resurfaced with a gorgeous, shiny, dazzling...

         "Engagement ring?" I gasped and reached out to touch it, as if it was only a mere figment of my imagination. "Why would they give you an engagement ring?"

"It's my grandmother's old engagement ring. Apparently, my father proposed to my mother in their last year of high school, and they wanted me to do the same. We've only been dating for a handful of months, Kayleigh. No offense, but I don't think we're—"

         "Definitely not!" I exclaimed. I was only seventeen! I couldn't get married. Twenty-five, twenty-three, or even twenty was a more logical age to get engaged at. "We're way too young. What about college?"

         "That's what I said. They believe that it'll all work itself out after we get engaged. I don't know why, but they're dead-set on me eventually getting married to you. And, I mean, that sounds great and I love you and all and you know that, but now? I'm not ready to be a husband." He leaned against the brick wall of The Cellar. "What should I do? They want me to propose to you, tonight, in front of your family and mine. They'll be pissed if I don't."

"You shouldn't. Do you want me to reject you in front of everyone?"

"Hell no."

         "Then don't."

He looked at me with his soulful eyes and caressed my cheek. "Kayleigh, I hope I can give you this ring one day. I really do. It would look amazing donned on your finger."
   I blushed. It really would.

         "And I'll be glad to wear it," I said, smiling slightly. "But that's in a few years. Not tonight."

         He grinned and kissed my cheek. "Deal. Let's go back in there and break my parents' hearts. No engagement tonight."
 

         We didn't mention it all dinner long. At the end of the meal, Tatum's parents lingered around the table, taking their sweet time while waiting for their son to pull out the ring. When he didn't, they impatiently kept mentioning things to him, such as, "Isn't there something you'd like to say?" and "You know what would mean the world to your grandmother, don't you Tatum?" Tatum and I ended up making a game out of it. Whenever one of his parents would slyly mention something about a wedding or a ring or his grandmother, we'd quickly change the subject, acting as if we had no idea what they were talking about.

         After the dinner, my parents and I drove back to our hotel. My mother went on and on about how Tatum was such a sweet (and cute) boy and how she was so happy that I finally found someone who measured up to my too-high-for-my-own-good expectations.

         "His eyes just lit up whenever he'd look at you!" Mom exclaimed, placing a hand on her chest. "It was the most adorable thing I ever did see!"

         I'd roll my eyes and suppress a smile. It made me feel much better that I wasn't the only one who noticed that.