“What are you up to?” Grey asks as I open the passenger side door.
“Hello, good sir.” I smile at the driver as I lean in to grab the box Beck left there for me. The driver gives me a bored look as I back up and shut the door. “This is for you,” I say, presenting the box to Grey.
He lifts the lid open and sucks in a huge breath of air. “Luna . . . I can’t take this . . . It’s too much.”
“You have to take it,” I insist. “Otherwise, I’ll have to keep it, and I don’t have much use for signed baseballs.”
He shakes his head several times before looking up at me. “Where did get the money to pay for this?”
“I didn’t pay for it,” I explain. “Beck owed me.” Which is the truth. “And he was happy to give it back to me.” Okay, the last part might be a lie.
I may have had to remind Beck that he a) didn’t really need the money from the baseball, b) that giving me the baseball would show me what a good friend he is, and c) I reminded him of the time he wrecked my mom’s car when he was racing it around at lunch time—when he had his driver’s permit, I might add—and he ended up running it into a fire hydrant and denting the front end. To cover our asses, I had to lie to my mother and say someone ran into it while it was parked at the school and then took off without leaving a note. The last part really won him over, I think.
“My father would be proud of you and your arguing skills, Lu,” he said after he agreed. “Maybe you should consider being a lawyer.”
“No way. I’d never be able to talk in front of people like that.”
“True. Plus, it’d be wasting your awesome DJ skills.”
“You’re never going to drop that idea, are you?”
He shook his head. “I need you to become big time so you can get me into all the cool clubs.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“It still doesn’t feel right to just take it,” Grey mutters, staring at the box.
I can tell he’s torn, that he wants to take it but feels bad about it.
“Please take it,” I beg. “It’ll make me so happy to know you have it back.”
I know the happy thing will win him over. Grey always wants to make me happy.
He finally nods, puts the box in the limo, and then backs me against the rear end of the vehicle and smashes his lips against mine. His lips devour mine and his hand is surprisingly gentle as he molds it to my cheek. He kisses me for what feels like forever, finally lifting me on top of the trunk. I fasten my legs around him and pull him closer as I grind against him. He groans, biting my lip as his hand travels up the front of my dress. Somehow, I completely forget where I am until I hear laughter from nearby.
We pull away, breathless, eyes glazed.
“Thank you,” he says, helping me down off the trunk. “That gift . . . It means a lot to me.”
“I’m glad,” I tell him. “Just promise me you’ll keep it.”
“I will,” he promises wholeheartedly. “But I’m going to make it up to you one day. Somehow, no matter what it takes, even if I have to do it years from now.”
After a few more kisses, we head for the gym and join Ari, Beck, Willow, and Wynter, who are already rocking out on the dance floor. The music is loud and cheesy, and the matching blue and gold banners and streamers placed sporadically around the room look awful with the disco lights flashing from the ceiling. But the fact that I’m here with my friends and Grey, wearing a dress I picked out makes me appreciate the cliché ambience.
Grey doesn’t ask if I want to dance; he just steers me toward my friends, knowing I’ll want to dance with them. He’s also learned from the few parties we’ve gone to together that he has to dance like there’s no tomorrow when he’s with me.
The six of us form a circle and begin doing our thing. Beck, being Beck, gets in the center and does his best break dance moves. For the most part, everyone is relaxed and enjoying themselves, but every once in a while, I cast a glance in Piper and Logan’s direction.
Ever since Wynter threatened her, things have been fairly quiet—well, at least toward us. The two of them have found a new victim to torment—Dalton, a sweet, quiet guy who works with Ari. Tonight, Dalton is here with his friends, and Piper and Logan have made it their mission to make sure he has a terrible time. Logan keeps tripping him every chance he gets, and Piper does her best to laugh as hard as she can.
“I can’t believe I used to be friends with those assholes,” Grey says as we grind against each other to the sensual beat of the song.
“Used to being the key words,” I say, swaying my hips. “You’re not like that at all anymore.”
“I know. I just wish I could get them to stop.” Grey grits his teeth as Logan bashes his shoulder into Dalton and knocks him flat on the ground.
Wynter suddenly untangles herself from Ari and marches over to Piper and Logan. Grey catches on to what she’s doing and heads after her. While she yells at Piper and Logan, Grey helps Dalton to his feet. Piper rolls her eyes at Wynter, and Logan laughs in her face. Wynter flips them the middle finger, turns her back on them, and grabs Dalton’s hand. Then she drags him toward us with Grey trailing behind her.
“Hey, everyone, this is Ari’s friend Dalton,” she says, flicking her wrist at him. “And tonight, he’s going to dance with us.”
Dalton’s eyes practically pop out of his head. “I am?”
“You are.” Wynter twirls around and starts using him as a grinding pole.
Dalton looks like he has no clue what to do with Wynter and her boldness, but after a song or two, he does manage to put his hands on her waist.
Grey slips an arm around me. “Wynter’s got a big set of balls on her.”
I let out a very unattractive snort. “I guess that’s one way to put her colorful personality.”
As the fast, poppy song switches to a slow one, Grey and I align our bodies until there’s no room left between us.
“I’m glad you came with me tonight,” Grey murmurs, gently combing his fingers through the bottom of my hair. “I was actually kind of worried that you wouldn’t.”
I rest my head on his shoulder and play with his bowtie. “That’s a silly thing to worry about. Of course I’d say yes.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d turned me down, though,” he says. “In fact, I would’ve deserved it.”
“Nah, you’ve made up for those days and then some.”
“You really think so?”
“No, I know so.” My fingers trail from his bowtie to the buttons on his shirt. “People deserve second chances if they really want them, Grey.”
“You think everyone deserves a second chance? To be forgiven?” he asks. “Even your parents?”
“I don’t think everyone deserves one. I mean, if my mom came up to me tomorrow and offered me some half-ass apology, then no, I wouldn’t forgive her. It takes time, effort, trust.” I settle my hand above where his heart beats. “You, though . . . I could tell you wanted to change, and it wasn’t something that you just decided. You knew you had to earn my trust, and you did that by helping me when I most needed it, by being the person I could open up to. By making me feel safe when I needed it. You didn’t judge me for who I was. You didn’t make me feel bad for the stuff I did. You let me just be me.”
“I like letting you be you.” He pulls me closer. “And I’m also glad you forgave me so I got a chance to see the real you.”
“Me, too,” I agree, knowing he almost didn’t get to see the real me.
I almost let my fear and my parents’ words stop me from showing anyone my true self. Thankfully, that didn’t happen; otherwise, I would’ve missed out on this amazing moment, dancing with my boyfriend and feeling giddy about it. I would’ve missed out on getting to know my sister, working at the diner, and earning my own money. And I probably would’ve missed out on a lot more stuff because every day moments happen all the time. Sometimes, they’re epic. Sometimes, they’re small. But each one means something. Each one has helped me figure out a part of myself, who I am in this world.