Chapter 11

Micah messages me Friday during fourth period. I play it cool for about ten minutes, but I’m just dying to read the text, so I ask to use the restroom and sneak the phone in there with me. You coming to watch another video diary entry this weekend?

Saff’s been bugging me to go back on Saturday. Possibly.

We’ll leave the key under the door for you.

I close myself into a stall and text back, What? We won’t get to enjoy your sunny personality?

Not this time. We’re driving up for a meet and greet at Cal. One of those early action picnics.

Oh, I see. So your future is more important than your oldest friends in the world? I add a smiley emoji so he knows I’m joking.

If my oldest friends in the world want to hang out with me, they know I live ten minutes away.

Low blow to use logic against me.

And they have my cell number. And they drive.

Okay, okay. You made your point.

After a few seconds, Micah adds, Stay as long as you like. Make yourself at home.

An idea sparks. Can we use your hot tub?

As long as you don’t drown. Don’t swim alone. Smiley emoji.

Thank you, O wise one.

Je t’en prie.

Your autocorrect just went wacko.

It’s French. It means that it’s my pleasure.

I’m reminded why I don’t hang out with Micah. He’s way too academic for me. Now you’re just showing off.

That’s also my pleasure.

✱✱✱

I entice Axel to join me at Micah’s for the hot tub. Saff will meet me here in an hour, and Axel will take off when we’re ready to watch our video. I give him the grand tour first, leading him throughout the house, showing him the laptop on the porch where we watch our videos, and winding our way out to the hot tub.

“This place is epic. It’s like they stole a farmhouse from the Midwest and plopped it down in the middle of California.” Axel takes off his shirt and helps me with mine. I’m wearing his favorite purple bikini under my clothes, and I can tell he’s very happy about that. God, he smells good. Some combination of hair gel, cologne and salt.

He pulls me into the water. It’s intensely hot but strangely refreshing. The water laps at my skin, the bubbles popping up all around me. He slips his hands around my waist, sliding me directly up against him. I wrap my legs around him. His bare skin glistens, his body firm against mine. He kisses my collar bone from one end to the other, then pulls back to admire. “You are hella hot, you know that?”

“Glad you think so.” My cheeks feel warm, maybe from his compliment or maybe from the heat of the spa. My purple push-up bikini top does wonders for my boobs.

He kisses me, tasting of strawberry and lemonade . . . and everything melts out of my reality. I could do this all day. And all night.

After what seems like moments, but probably is more like twenty minutes, Axel whispers in my ear. “You know what I want to do right now?”

I can imagine. He’s like a little kid in a toy store—he sees no harm in asking for what he wants. Maybe someday I’ll say yes.

Between kisses, he whispers, “Tightrope across the roof.”

“What?” Oh. Okay. I try not to feel insulted.

He peers into the backyard. A ladder rests against one side of the house, where perhaps someone has been repairing the roof. I consider this. “Can’t we just stay right here forever? Please?”

He trails his finger along my cheek, stroking the slight cleft in my chin. “Ten more minutes. Then we’ll take a walk.”

The ten minutes pass quickly. If there’s an award for kissing, Axel would win it. He’s somehow both delicate and strong simultaneously.

He scoops my hand into his, and we walk to the ladder. He tests it to make sure it’s secure, and we climb, dripping. The wetness makes the ladder slippery. I grasp each rung firmly before moving my feet. Each time my foot slides, I feel a tiny surge of adrenaline. And once we make it to the roof, we stand, gazing at the view. I can see for miles, because the land is so flat here.

“Beautiful, huh?” he whispers.

“Totally.”

I realize he was one hundred percent right to want to climb up. This moment doesn’t detract from the ones before, it accentuates them. He kisses my neck, and goose bumps layer my skin. God, I love him.

“What the hell?” Saff’s voice is so scalding it practically blisters. I’m surprised I didn’t hear her drive up; Aunt Tee’s hatchback, which Saff uses on the days Tee doesn’t work, is a heartbeat away from the junkyard.

“Want to join us?” I call down to her, knowing she never will. I balance on one foot and extend my other leg behind me, dancer-like.

“What is wrong with you? Come down!”

I don’t appreciate being told what to do, thank you very much. I’m going to walk across before I get down.

“If you break your neck, I’m not changing your diapers!”

I call back, laughing, “If I break my neck on this roof, I’ll sue for a million dollars and hire a live-in diaper changer.”

Saffron storms into the house. Sometimes I feel sorry for her.

✱✱✱

My suit is still wet when I peel it off. I change, kiss Axel goodbye, and dash off a message to Micah. Hey Brainiac, thank you for the hot tub. You having fun at the picnic?

He must be bored because he immediately texts me back. Meh. I hate this get-to-know-you crap.

It’s called being social.

More like being fake. Everyone’s trying to impress each other. I’m not impressed.

YOU MUST BE SOCIAL. THAT’S AN ORDER. PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY.

Aye, aye, captain.

I mean it. Stop!

I’m a polite texter. If you text me, I respond. It’s called etiquette.

I send a smiley emoji.

See, you have etiquette too.

I send another smiley.

Okay, fine. Goodbye.

I resist the urge to say goodbye back. About sixty seconds later, he messages again. Okay, maybe you don’t have etiquette.

Goodbye, asshole!

This time he sends a smiley, and I put my phone away.