The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1)

He bit the word off, but I heard it anyway.

Loved.

River’s head turned to me again. “Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t know why I even told you, except that I feel comfortable with you.” A small grin touched his lips. “Just not when we’re kissing.”

I gave a short laugh. “Story of my life.”

We lay back to stare at the ceiling, chuckling. A silence fell that felt warm and calm passed and then River shifted beside me.

“So Violet.”

“So River.”

“Since we’re both secretly dorks in disguise, how about we go to Prom together?”

An incredulous laugh burst out of me. “Oh, sure. Why not?” I looked over at him. He arched a brow. “You’re serious?”

“As the plague. We’d just go as friends.”

“Don’t you have a gaggle of girls waiting for you to ask them out?”

“Ha, no. Honestly, I don’t even want to go—”

“Way to sell it to me, Whitmore.”

He laughed. “Sorry. I mean. I do want to go, for my parents’ sake. Dad keeps asking which girl I’m bringing…” He cleared his throat. “And Mom loves you. We should go. It’s our senior year.”

“I seem to remember a certain other dance that you were supposed to take me to and then didn’t.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. But this is how I make it up to you.”

“I suppose,” I said, sadness creeping back into my heart.

Miller hated dances. Hated the money spent that could go to other places

that needed it more. Hated the silly gimmicks and themes. But I didn’t. I wanted all the high school experiences and going with River had been my plan all along.

But after Miller had kissed me, even my fantasies about those experiences had been rearranged. I imagined Miller and me at the base of the stairs at my house. Mom would take a million photos and Dad would joke, but not really, that Miller had better have me home on time and take care of me.

And Miller would, because that’s what he did. At the dance, he’d hold me close, and we’d sway to the music. Maybe he’d sing one of his songs in my ear and then kiss me…

I shook myself out of my thoughts with a shiver. Miller wasn’t going to ask me to any Prom, I reminded myself. He had a girlfriend.

And he and I are impossible.

“I’ll go to the Prom with you,” I said to River. “But only as friends.”

His face brightened, and though he was a huge, strong guy, something intangible in his eyes broke my heart. Relief, maybe, that he was going to do something that would please his dad.

“Just friends,” he said, then grinned and touched a small cut on his lip my teeth had left thanks to our clumsy kisses. “Safer for me that way.”

“I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

He smiled and nudged my arm. “It’s already forgotten.”

I left the Whitmores feeling shockingly calm. Almost optimistic.

I made a new friend.