“Yeah, let’s go.”
“Cool, I have something to show you.”
We head upstairs, dogs trailing behind us. Stepping back into her princess tower, I set my bag down on her desk chair and pull out the present I got her. “Okay, so we walked by this little store, and I thought you might like this.” I hand her the bracelet I found. Heaven turns the black and pink beads over between her fingers and then slips it right on her wrist.
“I got a matching one with green beads, but I was rushing and left it at home,” I say, hoping I don’t sound too cringe. Matching bracelets definitely says something, something I’m a little afraid to say out loud.
“I really like it. Thank you.” I get a rare Heaven smile that makes my heart leap in my throat. “Here.” She pulls her tablet into her lap, and I take that as my sign to step over the dogs and join her on the bed. I am not ready for what I see on the screen. There are four mini portraits of me from the chest up. I’m in different poses, making different faces. In one, I’m crossing my eyes and sticking out my tongue. In all of them she’s included the scratches on my cheek, but she’s highlighted them with hearts and little stars. I think I might die.
“If you like them, these are for you. And just for you. Your mom will have to deal.”
“I do like them. I love them. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, suddenly sounding all shy. It’s so freaking cute.
“Heaven, you should post more art like this. I mean, don’t post this. This is going to be printed out and pressed into ajournal with some rose petals under my bed, but like, people. Your sad-clown portraits were so good, and I like roses and daggers and stuff, but the way you draw people is amazing. You should do more of that.”
I look over at her and she swallows. “Um, I drew these two.” Her fingers swipe across the screen, and she brings up a cluster of sketches she drew of us from the chest up. And it’s definitely us. One where our foreheads are touching, another one where we’re hugging, and another one where she’s kissing me on the cheek. I think I might faint.
“Please send this to me,” I say, trying not to sound too desperate.
“Yeah?” she asks, and I realize what she must be thinking, that there’s a chance that these drawings are not my new favorite thing in the world.
“Uh, yeah. I have to figure out how to print these out and hang them all over my bedroom without my mom seeing.” I laugh, but when I look back over at her, she’s still focused on the screen, looking real tense all of a sudden.
“I wanted to ask you something. It’s not a big deal, maybe. Just wanted, like, clarification.”
“Should I be scared?” I try to joke, but all of a sudden I’m sweating.
“No, I don’t think so. I—I know we’re more than just friends. Or tight friends who kiss sometimes, but there’s something more here, right? I’m not just making that up in my head.”
“No! No. There’s something here, for me at least.”
“Okay, me too,” Heaven says, letting out a deep breath,and then I feel terrible. I know I haven’t said anything yet, but I hate the idea that she has spent any time in the last few weeks thinking I don’t really, really like her.
“I think I didn’t want to, I don’t know, ask if you want to put a label on this because it felt too good. Like if I said something out loud, this bubble would pop,” I confess.
“Me too!” she says, louder than I’ve ever heard her speak before. We both start laughing. “Jake asked me how we were getting along, but I didn’t say anything to him. One, I didn’t know what to say, and then I didn’t know if I should say anything. For me, this feels kinda private? And I didn’t want to say anything to him or Axel before I talked to you.”
“I haven’t told anyone either, for the same reason. Well and another reason.”
“What’s that?”
“Uh, remember that part about my mom? You think that Pride video was bad. She will contact Drew or Kelly and ask one of them to do a segment on us just so she can take credit for bringing us together.”
“Yeah, okay. I mean we don’t have to put a label on it, right?” Heaven says. “Isn’t that like part of the whole deal? Talking stage. Situationship and then when we both move far, far away in our thirties we can make it official and tell your mom. We don’t have to rush anything, but I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t like feeling more than nothing, while you’re actually not into it all.”
“No, definitely into it. But yeah, slow seems good. I mean this is a first for both of us, and I rushed into everything with every boy I’ve ever met. This feels different. I wantthis to be different. Is slow okay?” I ask, laughing and silently cursing Cristine Ford and my very confusing emotional development all at the same time.
“Yeah. Slow is good. And honestly, my parents are cool, but I actually don’t think they would be chill about it either,” Heaven says. “Like my mom would start crying because I finally ‘put myself out there’ and my dad would tease me for weeks. He still can’t get over the fact that I’ve been asking him to do my hair again. We can keep this locked up nice and tight.”
“Still not into that kind of attention.” I laugh.
“No. But I do like you and I also have no idea what I’m doing. So yeah. Slow is good.”
I can barely breathe when she reaches over and takes my hand.
“I like you too,” I tell her. Then I do the thing I’ve been wanting to do for the last week. I lean over and kiss her.