Forgotten

Mom goes on. “It’s unfortunate that I had to meet new members of our community under these circumstances. But I think that you’ll find your father’s current state even more unfortunate. He was out looking for the two of you all night. He is not happy.”

Luke groans next to me and hangs his head.

The berating continues. “I’ll call them on your way home so they know you’re safe. But first, will one of you please tell me where on earth you were this whole night? I tried to call and text a million times.”

I take out my cell and find five texts and eight missed calls. “I turned it off,” I mutter, looking down. As I replace the phone in my pocket, Mom folds her arms across her chest and the room grows silent. I look at Luke. He raises his eyebrows expectantly, as if he thinks I’m going to explain the situation to my mother. As if I can explain the situation to my mother. He has no idea.

I am mute.

“Seriously?” he whispers at me harshly before turning to face my mom.

“We were out past Old Fox Road, just north of town,” he says. “I planned this whole dinner-and-a-movie thing. My minivan has a DVD player and we ate pizza and looked at the stars. It was no big deal… until I guess we fell asleep. I’m really sorry, Mrs. Lane.

“What?” he hisses at me when he glances my way and sees my openmouthed stare.

I can’t believe I missed what might have been my best date ever.

I turn to my mom, mouth still slightly ajar, and the ice melts. I see in her eyes the realization. She understands now that I don’t remember the evening. Keeping up the façade for Luke’s benefit, she asks, “Is that true, London?” Her look tells me to agree.

“Yes,” I breathe, finding myself desperate to be alone with Luke and have him retell every minute of the night. Judging by his expression of sour lemons with a dash of confusion, I doubt he’s interested in reliving the fun just yet. I doubt that I told him anything about my faulty wiring. I doubt it, but I can’t be sure.

My mom speaks again. “Okay, then. Because I trust my daughter, and because you seem like you come from a nice family, Luke, I choose to believe that this was an honest mistake, and we’ll leave it at that. I don’t love the fact that the two of you were so far out of town alone, but I can’t say that I didn’t explore the outskirts of the area a time or two myself when I was your age.”

My mom smiles, and Luke’s expression is now confused. He doesn’t understand why this woman has just turned compassionate. She puts on her Tough Mom hat again and adds, in a harsher tone, “But you’re still grounded. Luke, you’d better get home; your parents are worried.”

With that, she leaves the room and heads to the kitchen. I know that this is her way of letting me say good-bye to Luke without her watchful eye on us.

I walk him to the door. Before he leaves, he turns and eyes me skeptically.

“What happened back there?” he asks.

“I’m so sorry,” I begin, because I am. “I just froze. I’ve never done anything like this before.” I say it because I think it’s true.

“And I have? It’s not like I’m some degenerate or something. My parents are going to kill me.”

“I’m really sorry,” I say again, stepping closer to him. He grabs my hand and smiles down at me through his thick eyelashes, and my heart sputters.

“Was it worth it?” he asks seriously.

“Yes,” I say, looking up at him. Standing here, holding the hand of this gorgeous being even for these few moments, is worth every bit of it. “Do you think so?” I ask in return.

“Definitely,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from my face. He bends down and lightly skims my lips with his, then whispers in my ear, “See you soon, prom queen.”

19

It’s 2:39 in the morning.

My heart is racing. I’m sweating and chugging water and feeling helpless.

I turn on the lamp, grab the pen, and, at the end of a very, very long note about boys and darkness and adulterers and liars, I write this simple addendum:

It’s not Dad.

Then somehow, amazingly, I will myself to sleep.

MONDAY