Wyn had been sitting by the bonfire. Kids were drinking. Her date, Brad, was very drunk, and he was lying in the back of a pickup truck on a mattress explaining to an equally drunk boy that high school was rigged.
She hadn’t known anything about grad parties, and all of her classmates had been so jealous of her because she had been asked to go as a date. She had been excited too. She had fussed over her dress, her shoes, her makeup, and her hair. She’d driven herself nuts making sure that she was the prettiest date there.
It hadn’t mattered.
She had only had a month to prepare. Some of the girls who were graduating had been making plans for their outfits their whole lives. In the end, Wyn looked good, but she wasn’t shattering any records.
She also didn’t know Brad very well. He was from a different town and no one at the party knew her. Not even the chaperones knew her. That meant they didn’t know she was under eighteen, couldn’t drink, and shouldn’t even be there. She hadn’t been prepared for the night to be so sour. It turned out, she didn’t like Brad and she was tired of listening to him talk. Seeking escape, she sat down near the fire because it was warm there and she was away from Brad. She wanted to leave, but she wasn’t quite prepared to admit to her parents or her friends that she was extremely bored, and it was only midnight. On grad night, no one expected her to come home at all.
That was when a guy came up to her. He had dark hair, hazel eyes, and a pointed face.
“I brought you a stump,” he said, thumping it down next to her. Then he extended his hand to her and helped her off the grass.
“Thanks,” she said, sitting down on it.
He came back a minute later with a stump of his own. Sitting down on it, he asked her, “Where’s your date?”
“Over there.” She gestured vaguely in Brad’s direction.
“Yeah…” the boy said, rolling the word around in his mouth. “He’s not your date.”
“Why not?”
“Because, it’s past midnight… just barely.”
“I’m pretty sure dates don’t expire like parking passes,” Wyn said stiffly.
“No. They do,” he said, with a smile. “My date is making out with our host’s older brother. Your date has about 20 minutes before he passes out cold. It’s his first night drinking, huh? He doesn’t realize he’s overdoing it because he’s drinking like they do on TV. And I’m glad.”
“You’re glad?”
His eyes gleamed with fun. “Because I’ve been watching you all night. You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No. I live in Wellspring.”
“Thought so. Let me ask you a question. What’s your idea of the perfect date?”
“Location or person?”
“The location is here. The person is me. What would you like to do? Are you a prankster? Do you want to play a joke on the graduates?”
“No!”
“Do you like kissing? I could kiss you all night.” The way he said it made it seem like he was not serious, but a second look said he might be. His eyes sparkled with amusement and mischief.
She was more tempted than she ought to have been by his invitation. Instead of kissing him, she said, “That’s not without its appeal, but wouldn’t you only be doing that to get revenge on your wayward date?”
“No. She brought me to grad for the pictures. She wanted to have an impressive-looking guy by her side and, though I don’t see it myself, she said I fit the bill. Let it never be said that I didn’t help a girl when she asked me.”
Wyn cocked her head. She had an idea. “Do you have a car?”
He nodded.
“And you’re sober?”
“Dead sober. I’m only seventeen.”
“Can you drive me home?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
“And you won’t feel bad about deserting your girl?”
He stood up. “Not at all. She planned to sleep here tonight and she’s already disappeared with what’s-his-name. Don’t worry about it. I’ll drive back here after I’ve dropped you off.”
Wyn stood up too. “Just let me tell Brad that I’m leaving.”
“Yup. Go tell him.”
When Wyn got in the car, she realized she was getting into a vehicle with a stranger. She hadn’t asked him his name. She had even considered making out with him and she didn’t know his name, but as she sat down, she felt like a fool and like she couldn’t. Instead, she asked him to tell her about himself.
He started the car. “I like to date.”
“So you’re a heartbreaker?”
“Not at all. I’m friendly… and though it is true that I have been called a player, I don’t do it because I’m trying to hurt them or get another notch on my belt. I do it because I’m friendly and I like to date. I like to start a date by telling them that, so they don’t think that the attention I’m giving them signifies anything special.”
Wyn smiled. “I like how you worked that in, phrasing it like a conversation you had once with another girl and it doesn’t have anything to do with me. Very clever.”
“Wasn’t it?”
Wyn leaned back comfortably in her seat. “How many girls have you dated?”
“How many Fridays and Saturdays are there in a year?” he quipped.
“A hundred and four.”
“Well, probably triple that and then cut it into quarters. I don’t take a different girl out every time.”
“Your math is dizzying.”
“How many guys have you dated?”
Wyn didn’t want to reply. She hadn’t dated that much. That had been part of the reason she had been so excited to go out with Brad. “Let’s put it this way, I’ve never gone out with a guy I wanted to kiss at the beginning of the date… until tonight.”
He smiled and turned on the radio. “Did my offer to drive you home mean that much to you?”
“Yes,” she said in the darkness.
“It’s understandable. They were loud and gross.”
In the darkness of the car, they talked. The drive was over an hour and they used the time well. She told him about herself and he listened like he cared. When they pulled up in front of her house, he turned off the car and got out.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He came around and opened her door. “I’m walking you to your door.”
She stepped out and stood in front of him. “You don’t need to be that gallant.”
“Never tell a man you don’t want him to treat you well,” he said, suddenly taking her hand and rubbing it with his warm one. “I really enjoyed driving you home. The party will be a different kind of madhouse at three o’clock in the morning than it was at midnight. Wouldn’t it be nice if I lived down the street and I could just stay here? In the morning, we could meet up, and I could take you on one of the dates I plan. I’ll bet you look beautiful when you play tennis.”
She kissed him.
She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, pulled his mouth on top of hers, and kissed him.
She told herself she was going to do that when he stopped the car. She had completely forgotten that he still hadn’t told her his name and she hadn’t asked. She didn’t know where he lived or get his phone number. She knew nothing. She was kissing a stranger on the street.
The spell was broken when he kissed her back.
She realized instantly that she was dealing with a boy who had done an incredible amount of kissing and he knew far better what to do than she did. Why hadn’t she picked that up from his conversation? His hands were in the right places and she had never had that happen to her before.
Suddenly, she felt twelve years old and hopelessly outclassed. Her mouth froze and he got the cue that she was finished.
He let go of her and shot her a smile. He gripped her hand tighter and pulled her gently to her front door. He touched her shoulders and gently kissed her forehead. “You are something special. Come find me when you’re ready.” He got out a pen and wrote his phone number on her hand. Then he let her go and went back to his car.
Inside, she was more tired than the one-thirty on the clock suggested she should be and she went straight to sleep.
When she woke up, she smiled and looked at the pen mark he’d made on her hand. To her surprise, it wasn’t his phone number. He’d written the words, “I could have kissed you all night.”
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! One time I knew a guy in jr. high/high school and when I saw him again when we were in our twenties, I had no friggin' clue who he was. I thought I had a good memory for faces, but bro looked completely different. See you tomorrow!
