Chapter One
You only get one chance. Ever heard that saying?
Itâs true. Especially with the important things in life. So when that one chance rolls around, you canât afford to screw it up.
Except, somehow, I did.
Things had been going so well between Lindsay and me. After years of just being friends, something had shifted in the way I felt about her. I didnât want to be just friends anymore. And I could kind of tell she didnât either. You know, from the way she looked at me. The way she talked to me. The way we suddenly felt shy with each other when we hadnât before. The way my heart kind of skipped a beat when her name came up on my phone.
It took me months, but I had finally worked up the courage to ask Lindsay out. I had it all planned: I was going to ask her at the year-end party at Saraâs place.
On the night of the party, I was nervous as hell. Which is stupid, really, because itâs what both of us wanted. But still, you want to do things right, you know?
So anyway, after a few beers everyone was down at the fire pit, and just Lindsay and I were left sitting on the back deck. It was a cool night in late June. Pink clouds. Still air. The universe had even arranged some lightning flashing on the horizon. Perfect.
Lindsay was lounging on a chaise. I was hanging out on the double swing. She shivered a little. My cue.
âWant my hoodie?â
She smiled and shook her head. âIâm okay.â But then she rubbed her arms. Cue number two.
I patted the seat beside me. âCome sit,â I said. I held up a corner of the blanket that was draped over the swing back. I could easily have tossed it to her. But that wasnât the point. I wanted her close to me. I couldnât exactly ask her out if she was, like, ten feet away.
Sharing a swing with my best friend was something I wouldâve done without thinking twice just a few months ago. We would have sat together under the blanket and listened to the sounds of laughter drifting up from the fire pit below. Laughed at how drunk other people were. Made fun of teachers we didnât like.
But when it actually means something⦠itâs different.
She shrugged. âSure,â she said. âIt is getting chilly.â She stood up. Stretched. God, how had I spent all these years not wanting her? She moved toward the swing. âShove your butt over, Mikey.â I grinned and she sat down beside me. Kicked off her sandals and brought her legs up under herâthose long gymnastics-ripped legs of hers. I handed her some blanket and she tucked her feet underneath. She leaned into me. âThis okay?â
My stomach did a flip-flop. âYep.â Definitely okay. I took a deep breath. âSo,â I began. But then I didnât know what else to say. My mind was blank.
Lindsay looked up at me. âYeah?â The lightning forked a little bit closer. The storm was still too far away for us to hear any thunder. âSo?â
âYeah. Thatâs, uh, thatâs some pretty great lightning, you know?â I sounded like an idiot.
She put her head on my shoulder. âItâs totally great lightning, Mike,â she agreed. I heard the smile in her voice.
I got a grip on myself and tried again. I was going to do this. âYeah, so, um, I wanted to ask you something,â I said. I lifted a strand of her hair and wrapped it around my fingers. So soft.
âMm-hmm?â she asked. âWhatâs that?â Her arm drifted across my stomach and rested there. She never used to do that . She hooked her thumb in one of my belt loops. I took another deep breath and let it out slow. Real slow.
âYeah, so, I was wonderingâ¦â Another deep breath. A flash of lightning lit up the horizon. Another followed right on its heels. A puff of wind flipped up the corner of the blanket, exposing Lindsayâs legs. Her amazing endless legs. She reached down absently and flicked it back
You only get one chance. Ever heard that saying?
Itâs true. Especially with the important things in life. So when that one chance rolls around, you canât afford to screw it up.
Except, somehow, I did.
Things had been going so well between Lindsay and me. After years of just being friends, something had shifted in the way I felt about her. I didnât want to be just friends anymore. And I could kind of tell she didnât either. You know, from the way she looked at me. The way she talked to me. The way we suddenly felt shy with each other when we hadnât before. The way my heart kind of skipped a beat when her name came up on my phone.
It took me months, but I had finally worked up the courage to ask Lindsay out. I had it all planned: I was going to ask her at the year-end party at Saraâs place.
On the night of the party, I was nervous as hell. Which is stupid, really, because itâs what both of us wanted. But still, you want to do things right, you know?
So anyway, after a few beers everyone was down at the fire pit, and just Lindsay and I were left sitting on the back deck. It was a cool night in late June. Pink clouds. Still air. The universe had even arranged some lightning flashing on the horizon. Perfect.
Lindsay was lounging on a chaise. I was hanging out on the double swing. She shivered a little. My cue.
âWant my hoodie?â
She smiled and shook her head. âIâm okay.â But then she rubbed her arms. Cue number two.
I patted the seat beside me. âCome sit,â I said. I held up a corner of the blanket that was draped over the swing back. I could easily have tossed it to her. But that wasnât the point. I wanted her close to me. I couldnât exactly ask her out if she was, like, ten feet away.
Sharing a swing with my best friend was something I wouldâve done without thinking twice just a few months ago. We would have sat together under the blanket and listened to the sounds of laughter drifting up from the fire pit below. Laughed at how drunk other people were. Made fun of teachers we didnât like.
But when it actually means something⦠itâs different.
She shrugged. âSure,â she said. âIt is getting chilly.â She stood up. Stretched. God, how had I spent all these years not wanting her? She moved toward the swing. âShove your butt over, Mikey.â I grinned and she sat down beside me. Kicked off her sandals and brought her legs up under herâthose long gymnastics-ripped legs of hers. I handed her some blanket and she tucked her feet underneath. She leaned into me. âThis okay?â
My stomach did a flip-flop. âYep.â Definitely okay. I took a deep breath. âSo,â I began. But then I didnât know what else to say. My mind was blank.
Lindsay looked up at me. âYeah?â The lightning forked a little bit closer. The storm was still too far away for us to hear any thunder. âSo?â
âYeah. Thatâs, uh, thatâs some pretty great lightning, you know?â I sounded like an idiot.
She put her head on my shoulder. âItâs totally great lightning, Mike,â she agreed. I heard the smile in her voice.
I got a grip on myself and tried again. I was going to do this. âYeah, so, um, I wanted to ask you something,â I said. I lifted a strand of her hair and wrapped it around my fingers. So soft.
âMm-hmm?â she asked. âWhatâs that?â Her arm drifted across my stomach and rested there. She never used to do that . She hooked her thumb in one of my belt loops. I took another deep breath and let it out slow. Real slow.
âYeah, so, I was wonderingâ¦â Another deep breath. A flash of lightning lit up the horizon. Another followed right on its heels. A puff of wind flipped up the corner of the blanket, exposing Lindsayâs legs. Her amazing endless legs. She reached down absently and flicked it back