Every Little Thing

27

Reed catches my arm as I walk out of second period, fingers gentle against my wrist as my entire face breaks out into a smile and I turn to face him. His eyes are bright and excited, like there's a big secret he's on the verge of divulging.

"Hey," I say, hating myself for sounding so breathless. "Um, is everything—?"

"Everything's perfect, Evelyn." He replies, and the words sound so genuine, my heart nearly melts. I laugh as his fingers entwine with my own and he stoops down, his breath hitting the curve of my ear. "But we should go on an adventure, you and me."

I can't help but swat at him playfully. "I'm not taking a bus all the way back to New York."

He laughs at that, but shakes his head. "A little adventure, I mean. We should go to that café down the street."

"Okay. Sure," I reply, gathering my things for my next class. And then I notice that he's still standing there, brows raised in an air of expectancy. "Reed, you don't mean right now, do you?"

To my chagrin, he smiles. "Bingo."

"I can't ditch school," I whisper, laughing through the words in spite of myself. "I'm not the kind of person who just—who just leaves school in the middle of the day. What if we get caught?"

"We won't, Moore," Reed says, softly, and I feel myself begin to crumble. I wag an accusatory finger at him.

"Don't do that."

His face is innocent as he raises both hands in mock surrender. "Do what?"

"Don't do that—that thing you do. The whole calling-me-by-my-last-name thing. It's too..."

"Annoying?" He asks, flashing his teeth in a goofy smile. "Frustrating? Utterly unbearable?"

"I was going to say adorable," I mutter, "But I guess the rest of those work, too."

Reed moves closer to me, so that his hip locks with mine, his fingers absentmindedly drawing little circles on the inside of my palm.

"Come on, Moore," he whispers, and I shake my head, knowing that I want to. I want to leave school and go with him and have coffee and talk about things.

"Fine," I breathe finally, and he's so close that I can feel the grin spreading across his features.

"Thank you." He says, and I wait for something else; he's so close to me it hurts to restrain myself from kissing him. But before I can even take a breath, he steps away, walking backwards down the hall and calling out,

"I'll meet you in the parking lot, Moore."

________

The breeze is cold against my skin as I walk out of the back doors slowly, carefully. I see Reed standing there, one arm slung over a beat-up, bright red minivan. We lock eyes, and I'm there in an instant, shaking my head.

"Sweet wheels," I joke, and he rolls his eyes.

"Don't insult Sharon," he says, tone dead-serious but eyes glimmering, "She's carted me around since I was, like, four."

"It has a name?"

"Of course she has a name. All the best cars have a name."