Free Stay With Me by Elyssa Patrick Page A

“There should be some matches in the drawer behind you, Daph.”
    “I’ll get them,” Nick says.
    “I already know what I’m wishing for.” Jamie looks over at Caleb and me. “You two should be dating. Or at least go on a date. Don’t you want to go on a date with my bro, Hailey?”
    “I would, but Caleb hasn’t asked me yet.”
    “Ohhhhh, Caleb!” Jamie wags his finger, laughing. “You’re in so much trouble.”
    “Dude, you’re about to be in so much more trouble,” Dylan pipes up, and when Jamie reaches for a drink on the counter, he grabs it from him. “You’re done for the night.”
    “I haven’t, have I?” Caleb murmurs to me, his eyes intent.
    I bite my lower lip. “You haven’t what?”
    “Asked you out yet.”
    I shake my head no.
    “Excuse me, guys.”
    And not waiting for them to say a word, Caleb pulls me out to the backyard onto the deck. Surprisingly no one else is out there with us, and I’m glad we have this space to ourselves, that like the night we first met, the deck is just Caleb and me.
    Caleb shuts the sliding glass door and gives Jamie the finger when Jamie presses his face against the door. There’s laughter as Jamie’s dragged away, and Griff shuts the blinds, closing us off from prying eyes.
    Caleb tugs on my hand, and I go with him down the steps and off to one side of the house, in the small pathway between his house and the next. It’s enveloped in darkness, the only light coming from the sky.
    He leans against the brick wall, and gently tugs on my hand again, bringing me close to him. His other hand lands on my hip, and I brace my free one against his chest where I feel his heart pound in an increasing rhythm against my palm.
    We stand there for a moment, stars shining upon us, his hand on mine, my hand over his heart, our eyes locked onto each other. The wind is soft, a whisper of a low whistle that sends scattered leaves brushing past our legs like waves hitting the shoreline. A few strands of my hair blow across my face, and Caleb removes his hand from my hip to brush the offending locks behind my ear.
    He strokes his thumb across my cheekbone, and that small touch sends a thousand prick points of delight to my every nerve. It has me leaning even closer to him. His fingers tangle in my hair, and I tilt my head up.
    “Hailey.”
    My name is said so softly, so tenderly, the two syllables strung together in the sweetest way, and said in the lowest tone. My name feels like two heartbeats upon his lips, and I wonder if I said his name right now whether it would come across the same. Two heartbeats, two hearts, but there’s something here—something I can’t name yet. It almost feels like there’s this thread, this oh so delicate thread connecting us. That with each moment, with each shared heartbeat, with each barrier we break down, this thread will only grow stronger, firmer, and never break.
    Caleb touches me again, his thumb sweeping down the side of my face. “I have to ask you a question.”
    “Okay.”
    The wind falls suddenly silent, as if it too is holding its breath in anticipation of what will come next.
    He lowers his head, his lips almost near my own, his eyes warm and hopeful. “Will you go out with me?”
    There’s only one answer I can give, the only word I want to say.
    “Yes.”
    And as his mouth touches mine, the wind celebrates and leaves swirl around us.

    T HROUGHOUT THE WEEK I’M STILL floating on Cloud Nine from what happened at the party. Caleb asked me out.
    He asked me out!
    I could dance right now, even in the middle of Philosophy. It would save us all the boredom that is Plato’s Cave.
    After class is done, I grab my messenger bag and start to head out the door.
    “Hailey, a moment?” Professor Clark, a heavyset woman in her fifties with short salt and pepper hair, is standing by her desk, rifling through papers.
    I adjust my bag and walk toward her. “Yes?”
    “I wanted to talk to you about your paper.” She pauses for a