I frowned.
“Tonight was awesome,” he said.
My throat cinched up. “It was?”
“One of my best dates ever,” he said. “Top fifty, easy.”
I smiled and punched his arm. He smiled back. His attention was like a spotlight. I wanted to bask in it.
I wanted to flee.
He had made a move, and I had pushed him away. But he was still here, still engaged, being a total gentleman. I looked at his face, searching for a defect, something I could cling to when he finally saw the real me and ran away screaming.
I said, “Tell me something about you that I won’t like.”
He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“I showed you my baggage.” I hadn’t. “It’s your turn.”
He laughed. “I told you mine. Privilege with a side of daddy issues.”
“That’s not . . . I meant something actually bad.”
He seemed to hold his breath for a moment. “Why would you want me to tell you something bad about me?”
I turned my head to stare into the trees. “Because I’m leaving soon, and I need this not to be perfect.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was the best I could do.
The lights in the parking lot flickered and went out. It was like a signal that our time together was almost up.
I could feel Liam’s eyes on me.
“I want to kiss you again,” he said.
Heat blossomed in my chest like a road flare.
“Okay.”
Half an hour later, we cracked the windows, and Liam started the engine. We’d moved things to the car because I had started to shiver; now my cheeks were red from his stubble instead of the cold, but the shivers persisted. I wanted to bottle every sensation, capture it so I could replay it over and over. I desperately wanted to enjoy the present moment, but instead I was dreading the next one, when we said goodbye and I went back to my real life.
It was past midnight when we pulled up next to the RV. The lights were on inside.
“Can I walk you up?” Liam asked.
“No! I mean, I’m good, thanks.”
I had to look away, or else we were going to start making out again. But he put his hand on my face, turned it toward him, and leaned in to kiss me. At the last minute I put my hand up to stop him, my fingers splaying awkwardly across his jaw.
He took my hand and kissed the tip of my index finger, sending an electrical storm through my nervous system. Then he folded my hand and sort of gave it back to me. Trembling, I reached for the door handle.
“Don’t disappear,” he said.
I didn’t know how to reply.
I climbed the steps of the RV, closed the door behind me, and looked around. I had lived in this box half my life, but suddenly it was too small. The RV, my life, everything. I felt smothered. Claustrophobic. I had an impulse to rush back outside and tell Liam to stay. I could make coffee. We could sit at the picnic table and just talk. Stretch the night out a little longer.
I took a step toward the door, but then I heard the Mustang’s engine revving and saw the taillights retreat as Liam drove away. I turned and started down the aisle.
Dad was waiting up for me, sitting at the table and pretending to read. He looked up and smiled as I approached, but his eyes were already inspecting me for signs of whatever dads feared they would find after a date.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“Good,” I said. “I’m really tired.”
Dad raised his eyebrows. “I promise not to interrogate you. But you’ve got to give me more than that.”
I sighed. “He’s really great, Dad. A total gentleman.” A total gentleman I would probably never see again.
“That’s wonderful.”
Dad’s smile was too bright somehow, like a flashlight in the eyes. I looked away, irritated.
“Did you see a movie?” he asked.
“Dad, I’m tired.” I wanted to be alone. I tried to walk past him, but he took my arm gently in his hand.
“Ellie, what’s the matter?”
To my surprise, my breath hitched, and the next moment, tears were leaking down my cheeks.
“Oh, Ellie.” Dad stood and tried to hug me, but I backed away. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I said, though the word came out garbled. “He didn’t. . . . I’m fine.”
What was wrong was that I’d just had my first real kiss, and I had no one to tell. No sister, no girlfriend, no mother.
Something about that last thought shut off the tears. It was like someone had slammed a door, and now that way was blocked.
Dad held me at arm’s length and frowned. He seemed even more concerned now that I had stopped crying. “You still have your pills? You’re still taking them?”
I cocked my head. This was the first time he’d asked about my meds in weeks. Had he not been paying attention? Or did he need to see tears to understand that I was headed for a crash?
I didn’t like lying to my father—but telling the truth now would only make things worse. So I said, “Yeah.”
The tension drained from his face. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”
“I’m fine.”
“I know I’m your father, but—”
“Dad, please!” His face tightened again. I softened my voice. “I’m just exhausted.”
“All right,” he said, releasing his grip on my shoulders. “Get some sleep. I love you.”
I felt a swell of regret as I closed the accordion door behind me; I was shutting him out, and I knew it hurt him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything else.
I lay in bed for a long time, remembering Liam’s sandalwood scent, the feeling of his warm hand on the back of my cold neck. Thinking how I would never be the same. Thinking how it made no difference.
The blast of a big rig’s air horn startled me awake, and it took me a moment to orient myself. I was in the RV—at Cedarwood? No, we’d been kicked out. We were at the KOA in Bluffton, where Liam had picked me up and taken me on my first date. I reached up and felt cheek where his stubble had rubbed it red last night. I expected a rush, a return of the shivers that had electrified my spine as I sat in the car with Liam’s hands on me—but nothing came. Instead, a dull gray ache pressed against my temples, and my whole body felt twenty pounds heavier, as if gravity had increased while I’d slept. I checked my phone, but there were no messages, so I typed one to Liam: Last night was amazing. Thank you.
But I paused. Despite what he’d said, I knew the date had been awkward. What if I pursued him and he ghosted me? It was better to let it go. I deleted it.
I got to my feet, blinking and rubbing my eyes. I needed to splash water on my face, start the coffee, maybe go outside and feel the sun on my skin. But Dad was snoring on the other side of the partition, and I didn’t want to wake him up. So I opened my tiny window to let in some fresh air, powered up my laptop, and got to work.
Flynn had promised us five grand just to show up, plus ten more if Dad pulled off the Truck Drop—but first, we had to get to Hollywood. That meant buying fuel and food, and that meant we needed a gig between here and LA. I checked our email on the off chance someone had tried to book us, but the inbox was empty. No one had sent us a Facebook message, either. I was running out of options. It was time to call in a favor.