The Problem with Forever

I continued to stare at her picture. I had a second chance when so many people only had one chance, and I couldn’t let it be in vain.

What had Santos said in speech class about trying and living? It was all about trying, and that was what I would do.

I would try.

* * *

“Oh my God,” Ainsley squealed as I neared the bench she was sitting at. She popped up, adjusting her sunglasses as they started to slip down her nose. “You look freaking adorable!”

Slowing, I glanced down at myself in relief. Picking out my outfit for this moment had been a pretty stressful endeavor. I’d ended up settling on black leggings, a white lacy cami and a pale blue cardigan. I’d left my hair down and smoothed it out with Rosa’s flatiron. I’d been amazed by the fact I hadn’t fried my hair in the process and I’d washed the makeup off my face about three times before settling on what was supposed to be a “fresh” look I’d learned from watching YouTube, which took about thirty minutes to pull off.

Ainsley grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the door of the café she’d picked out. “Okay. So you’re about five minutes early, and he’s going to be here any minute, and I want to freak out.”

I grinned. She wanted to freak out? I felt like I was seconds from hyperventilating.

She led us into the restaurant. The place wasn’t that busy and we were seated immediately, at a table big enough for four. She sat across from me, leaving the seat next to me open, and my heart jumped.

Pushing the sunglasses onto her head, she winced when she looked to our left, at the all-glass front. Bright sunlight poured into the restaurant. She shifted her chair so she wasn’t sitting directly in the light.

“Are your...eyes still...bothering you?” I asked.

Rolling said eyes, she sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on with them. The eye doctor where I went to get new glasses told Mom I needed to see some kind of specialist.”

Concern blossomed in the pit of my belly. “What...for?”

She raised a

shoulder. “He saw something weird when he was looking at my eyes and thinks a retina specialist needs to take a look at them. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal.”

A specialist sounded like a big deal. “Does he think something is wrong?”

She shook her head. “Not sure. He didn’t really say much beyond that.”

“When is...your appointment?” I asked, pausing when the waitress appeared and filled our three glasses with water.

“Two weeks from now. Anyway, enough about me. Are you nervous?” she asked, wrapping her fingers around the menu.

I nodded even though I wasn’t sure if Ainsley was telling me the whole truth about whatever was going on with her eyes. “Yes.”

“You know what this is like, right?” She tugged the menu to her chest. “This is like a date.”

My stomach dropped all the way to the floor. I shook my head.

“Yes. Yes,” she reiterated. “It’s just like a date. Like a practice date.”

Practice dates? Were there such things? I started to ask her, but she continued, “Okay. Let’s look at the evidence here. From the moment you two saw each other, he has made every attempt to reach out to you, right? He’s skipped class to have lunch with you. When you freaked out in class, he left to make sure you were okay and then showed you that graffiti stuff. He helped you with your speech, and he actually came over to meet Carl and Rosa. That means he’s interested.”

It also meant he could just want to be a part of my life, but before I could point that out, I saw him. Rider was here. He turned sideways and scanned the restaurant.

I stiffened. His gaze locked with mine and a slow grin appeared on his face. He didn’t look like he had last night. More like he did every day at school. Worn jeans. A black henley instead of a T-shirt and beat-up sneakers, but goodness, I couldn’t think.

Okay. Not true. I could think, but I was thinking things I really had no concept of. I was thinking about those full, slightly curved lips and how they must feel in places...other than my forehead or cheek. I was thinking about his hands and how strong they were and the oddly pleasant calluses on his palms. I was thinking about...about a lot of things—things that now didn’t feel so wrong since he was actually single.

Noticing my near-prone position, Ainsley looked over her shoulder. “Oh, my good God almighty,” she murmured. “That’s him?”

“Yes,” I whispered. That was so him.

She whipped back around, her blue eyes wide. “Mallory. Wow.”