It was one of those warm days when the breeze seemed like lips gently brushing my cheeks and the clouds hung lazily under a turquoise sky. The sea conspired with the golden sand to tempt me into daydreams, beckoning with its soft spray and dazzling whitecaps.
"Good idea," he said, his eyes full of more love and devotion than an ocean could hold.
I had never had a boy in my room before. Just the idea of it put butterflies in my stomach. We paused when we entered the foyer.
"Your mother's not home?"
"She took May shopping. My father and Cary are down at the dock."
"Oh." He looked embarrassed, shy about being with me in my empty house.
I took his hand.
"Come on," I said. "We've got a lot to do."
I led him upstairs and into my room. I had made the room spotless, polishing and cleaning all morning. Twice, Cary had looked in with a dark expression of disapproval on his face.
"This is a nice room," Robert said. He entered and looked at my posters of rock and movie stars. "Who gave you all these?" he asked, indicating the shelves crowded with stuffed animals and ceramic dolls. There was a collection of ceramic and pewter cats on one shelf as well.
"Daddy, Mommy, and Cary, for birthdays, special occasions," I replied. He smiled at the small table with a miniature tea set and a big doll in a chair.
"You don't still play with this, do you?" he teased.
"Sometimes. With May," I added.
He laughed and approached my canopy bed.
"Looks very comfortable."
"You can sit on it," I said and he did, bouncing and smiling.
The bedding, comforter, and pillows all matched the mauve shade of the canopy, and at the center of the two fluffy pillows was a large stuffed cat. He reached out to pet it.
"It looks so real, I had to be sure," he said.
I went to my desk, where I had an open notebook beside a pile of school textbooks.
"I've been going over my history notes."
He got up quickly and looked over my shoulder.
"I got an A in that class," he brat ted, "but don't ask me anything now. It went in and then out again."
We both laughed.
"Nice view," he said, walking toward the open window beside my bed.
"We came up here to get away from all that," I reminded him gently.
"Right, right."
"You can have that chair," I said, pointing to the one beside the desk.
"Thank you, Miss Logan," he said with a short bow. He sat and opened his math book.
"I hate these formulas," he muttered, but didn't lift his eyes from the page.
We both worked silently. Occasionally we would look up, our gazes would meet, and we would smile and look down again quickly.