“She’s short. She only comes about halfway up my chest.”
“Hmm…” Beth hummed. “Go on.”
“Her hands are small,” I told her, “and I like the way her eyes look when she smiles.”
“Is she pretty?”
“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.
“Is she in your class?” Beth asked. “A senior, I mean?”
“Yes.”
“She had a lot of boyfriends?”
I almost dropped the bowl I was putting away.
“I…I don’t know,” I finally said. “Some, I think.”
“She’s got the advantage,” Beth said.
My hands started to shake.
“Stop it,” she said with a warning in her voice. “You promised, and we’ve hardly even started. You still want that cake?”
“Yes.”
“Then take a deep breath, get a drink, and join me in the living room.”
I sat in the big, blue, overstuffed chair, and Beth sat on the matching couch. I pulled my knees up so I could wrap my arms around my legs—I felt safer that way—and waited for Bethany to continue.
“You like her?” my aunt asked.
I shrugged. I didn’t know. I didn’t even know what that meant, and I told her so.
“How do you feel when you are with her?”
I shrugged again, and Beth sighed dramatically.
“I’m going to take that cake home to Travis…”
“I don’t know what to say!” I blurted out, a little concerned she would make good on her threat. “I feel…okay with her, I guess.”
“Just okay?”
“Yes…no…I don’t know!” I tightened my grip on my own legs.
“Deep breaths,” she said, reminding me.
The smell of the baking cake was a good reminder, too. I could almost taste it already.
“She makes me feel…calm,” I whispered.
“Calm is good,” Beth said with a nod, and I agreed. “Travis said you talked to her about your mom and dad.”
“A little,” I admitted. “She asked.”
“And you were okay talking to her about them? And Megan?”