"I felt a little sorry for you that day," she said softly. "That first day, I mean." She glanced up at him, then almost immediately back down at the grass.
"You did?" He couldn't remember the last time someone said they felt sorry for him. Oh, wait. Yes, he could. That would have been the fourth of absolutely never ever. "Why?"
"I guess because it must be hard, and a little lonely, too. Because you never really know why someone wants to be your friend, do you?"
They were still walking, but now he tugged her to a stop. He wanted to tell her she was right. That he didn't think anyone else understood that, at least not anyone who wasn't born into a celebrity family. Mostly, he wanted to just look at her. To feel the warmth inside him turn into a raging blaze of longing for this girl who got him. Who really and truly got him.
"Wyatt?"
He blinked, realizing suddenly that he was staring. "Sorry. Sorry, it's just--well, it's just that you're right. It is hard."
She nodded, but frowned a bit, too.
"What?"
"I was thinking that your last name makes it even more hard. It's so well known. But then I was wondering why it's your name at all. Shouldn't you have your father's name?"
"You've obviously never met Anika Segel. My grandmother is the head of a wide and vast matriarchy. No way was my dad going to win that battle."
Her mouth twisted a bit. "Guess it's hard for your dad, too, huh?"
He nodded, thinking about the conversation he'd had with his father back when he was still trying to get Kelsey's attention. "Yeah," he admitted. "It is."
She took his hand and they started walking again. They'd veered off the path and were now walking on the green toward the cluster of trees. "At least people see you and talk to you," she said. "They notice you because of the name and your family. I'm invisible."
He pulled her to a stop again, then searched her face, his heart breaking a little at the truth he saw there. A truth he didn't understand, because she was amazing. Sweet and smart and funny and talented. He could spend days talking to her, sitting with her, or just quietly holding her hand. He could, and yet he couldn't, because her parents kept her on such a tight leash.
"You're not invisible to me," he said, and he almost kissed her right then. Instead, he brushed her
lips with the tip of his finger.
She sighed with more passion and longing than he'd ever heard from any of the girls he'd dated.
That's when he knew. He wasn't just Wyatt anymore. He was Wyatt and Kelsey.
And damned if that didn't feel nice.
"Have you ever been kissed?"
Her eyes shot up to his, and he wasn't sure if it was excitement he saw there, or terror.
She swallowed, then shook her head. "No," she whispered.
That little word made him happier than it should. "I'm going to be your first, Kelsey Draper."
"Oh." A pink stain flooded her cheeks. "Okay."
"But not today."
"Oh." Now the word was laced with disappointment, and damned if that didn't make him feel good, too. "When?" she added.
But he only smiled, released her hand, and said, "Race you to the trees."
The next day, he brought her tickets to the ballet. He pulled her around the rec center to the service doors because nobody ever went there, and handed her a small, flat box. Then he had to fight not to smile like an idiot as he watched the awe on her face when she opened it and drew out the two printed pieces of paper.
"Wyatt. This is amazing. You got me tickets to Swan Lake?"
"You like?"