It Happened on Maple Street

I slipped him the note I’d written. And thought about him reading it.

I’m glad you got the car. Things will be much easier. Now that he no longer had to come and go as his buddy dictated, we could spend more time together.

And then I got to the stuff that was really critical.

I think you’re lying to me about your mom liking me. She only saw me for a second, and then we didn’t give a very good impression by staying so late. Next time, we’ll have to talk to her some more, and you’ll have to get me home early!

I felt like such a bad girl. And I didn’t like feeling that way. I’d spent my whole life being a good girl. I was a good girl.

There was a little more stuff about the movie we were planning to see on Sunday. And then came the most important part.

Love ya, Tara

I couldn’t tell him I was in love with him. I couldn’t even say I love you—out loud —though the words screamed thems

elves inside of me. He hadn’t told me that he loved me. And I couldn’t say that first. I couldn’t be that forward. I couldn’t let him know that he had me that completely.

Not if all he wanted from me was sex.

And to that end, I’d added the last line of the note. P.S. Hey! I want to talk to you soon, okay?

I’d told him several times that I needed to talk to him. He always said okay, or nodded, but anytime we had five seconds alone, we were too busy locking our lips together to be able to get words through them.

Seven

THE CARD SHE’D GIVEN HIM, TELLING HIM HE WAS GREAT, was tucked away in the little metal lockbox in his bedroom. Locked up for safekeeping, not for hiding. He still did double takes when he woke up in the morning, trying to believe that a girl as beautiful as Tara really saw enough worth in him to stick by him. Why should she? She could have any guy she wanted.

And it wouldn’t be too hard for her to find a guy who had more to offer than he did. He couldn’t buy her nice gifts. Hell, he could barely afford to take her out for a fast-food dinner.

On the last Thursday in October, just before he left for school, he looked at the note she’d given him the day before. She’d signed it “Love ya.” What in the hell did that mean?

Did she have feelings for him? Maybe love feelings? Or was she just being casual and cute?

But what about that last line, about needing to talk. When someone says “We need to talk,” what follows usually isn’t good. The words were almost always a prelude to “Things aren’t working out for me.” Or “I want to date other people.”

Not that he and Tara had talked about such things. He assumed she wasn’t seeing anyone else, but she hadn’t said. He hadn’t asked. And neither had she. Before he left for school, he locked the letter in the box with the card.

She was waiting for him outside of geology.

“Hey,” he took her hand as usual. “You want to go to a party in Eaton this weekend?”

“What party?” She was frowning.

“A Halloween party. It’s at Steve’s girlfriend’s house.” Steve had taken the news that they wouldn’t be carpooling anymore pretty well.

“Who’s going to be there?” She was frowning.

“Kids I hung out with in high school.”

“Couples?”

“Mostly.” Was that good or bad? If she didn’t want to go, why didn’t she just say so?

“And you want to take me?”

“Yeah.” He’d asked, hadn’t he?

Her serious expression broke into a smile, and she hooked her arm through his. “Okay, I’d like to go with you.”