“We don’t have any camping equipment. How are we going to camp?” I really wish he’d stop insinuating that this is the end. We’ll see each other again; it will just be different and less frequent.
“It’s summer. I’ll get us a thick comforter to lay on and some snacks. We can camp in the woods behind your house.”
“Okay.”
We separate at our houses.
I walk in the front door already knowing my mother has to work and isn’t home. I glance out back as I enter and see Langston sneaking in the backyard a few minutes later.
He lied.
His father expects him home. I can feel it in my bones. But I’m too selfish to give up my last night with Langston so that his father doesn’t beat him.
I quickly change into jean shorts and the T-shirt Langston gave me for my birthday that has a warrior princess on the front. The princess looks like she’s about to go hunting. I pull my hair up in a ponytail and consider where I should hide the money we just stole.
I decide on the floorboard beneath my bed and shove the money deep inside, hoping my mother doesn’t find it.
I walk back outside and find Langston already waiting. He too changed into more casual clothes—ripped jeans, a black T-shirt, and baseball cap. Years of sneaking around have made it easy for him to quickly step in and out of his house without his father noticing.
“Ready, killer?”
He smiles as I say his nickname. He swings a backpack over his shoulder, and then we head into the woods behind my house.
The sun is just beginning to set as Langston lays out the large blanket from his backpack.
We sit down on the blanket, surrounded by trees. For a moment, it feels like we are in our own little world. The real world no longer exists.
Langston pulls two Snickers bars out of his backpack and tosses one to me. I catch it with a smile.
Snickers are our favorite. They’re cheap and filling and delicious.
“So, where are you moving to exactly?” I ask, biting into my candy bar.
Langston’s eyes cut to me with a wary expression. “Palm Beach.”
“Oh, wow. So this woman is really rich.”
He nods and stops eating.
I do the same.
“I don’t want you to worry, Liesel. This isn’t the end. Our relationship won’t change. We just won’t see each other as often, but we can still count on each other. Always.”
“I know.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore tonight. Tomorrow is for goodbyes and tears; tonight is for making memories.”
“Yea, we should enjoy our last night before you move.”
“What should we talk about?” I take another bite of my Snickers bar, savoring each bite.
He lays back on the blanket.
I do as well.
We stare up at the sky, now shades of orange and red—the last moments before the sun sets.
“About a future that we can control. One where we aren’t poor. One where we can live the life we want.”
I frown as I look over at him. “But we never dream. What’s the point?”
“The point is that the one benefit of my new life is that I just might be able to get us the life we want someday.”
I take the last bite of my Snickers bar. He does the same.
Langston is so optimistic. His life might change for the better, but I’m destined to be stuck in this town forever.
I just smile at Langston. I don’t care what we talk about tonight. I only want to spend it with him.
“You start. What do you want, killer?”
“First, I want everyone to call me killer. I want to be the strongest badass I know. I want to be in complete control and be able to take on any foe.”
As he speaks, I know that will someday come true.
“What about you?” he asks.
I stretch my arms up and place them behind my head, thinking about a question I’ve never thought before. Most eight-year-olds have already thought about what they want to be when they grow up. They dream of becoming doctors, teachers, president, astronauts. I just dream of a day when I won’t have to worry if the meal I just ate is going to have to last me days or hours.
“I just want to live in a world where I have enough money to buy as much food as I want and have a real bed in my own bedroom.”
“That’s not a dream. That’s going to happen. Dream bigger. What job do you want?”
“Lawyer,” I answer automatically. That seems like the kind of job where you can make a change in other people’s lives.
“Where do you want to live? Beach, mountains, city?”
“Definitely the beach.” I like Miami’s warm weather. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.
“Me too. The mountains are too cold, and the city is too busy. I want to live on my own private island.”
My eyebrows raise. “We’re really dreaming big.”
“Absolutely. But I can’t figure out what I want my house to look like.”
“Ooh, I can help with that. It should be big and made of glass,” I say as I relax my arms to my side again.
“Glass? Doesn’t that mean it will be easier to break?”
I laugh. “No, it will be full of light. You’ll have views of the ocean from every room.”
“I like that. And it needs a big kitchen. One that can cook a meal for a dozen people.”
“And an infinity pool!”
“And a huge balcony!”
“A bathroom outside!”
“A deck covered in vines and greenery that makes it feel like we are living in the jungle.”
I look up at the stars.
“And the clearest view of the moon and stars,” I say.
Langston’s hand intertwines with mine. “That’s the most important part.”
“So that’s your house. Where will I live?” I ask.
“In the house with me.”
“You mean as your wife?”
He shrugs. “Maybe, or maybe we’d live there as friends. Would it be so bad, being married to me?”
“I don’t know. We’re eight. And all the marriages I’ve seen have failed. I don’t want us to fail.”
“Maybe we should kiss and see how we like it. That way, we’ll know if we should be married or just live there as friends.”
I’ve never thought of kissing a boy before. But I know Danica in my class kissed Ian last week.
“Okay, kiss me then.” I sit up, leaning on one elbow.
Langston leans on his elbow, facing me. It’s beginning to get dark outside, but I can tell he’s nervous. He’s hesitant. I don’t understand why. It’s only a kiss.
“Kiss me, killer.”
Then his lips are pressed against mine. Our noses bump. Somehow, I end up biting his bottom lip.
“Ow,” he says as we both pull away.
Then we laugh.
“Well, I guess that answers that,” I say.
“Yep, friends it is,” Langston says.
I smile, as we both lay back on the blanket and start trying to make images out of the stars.
For some reason, I can’t get that kiss out of my head. Langston was my first kiss. It seemed terrible. I don’t understand why anyone would want to kiss. But then again, I’m eight.
I snuggle up to Langston as we begin to drift off to sleep. I feel his steady heartbeat. I know what he’s risking staying with me tonight. I won’t let him get hurt for me. It may not be part of our pact, but I make a silent promise to myself to never let him get hurt. Tomorrow, I’ll do what I can to keep that vow.