Cherry (21 page)

UGHHHHH, Alex thought to herself.

She wasn't sure what she hated more: the fact that she did, in fact, still want to hang out with him even though he had been making out with someone else the night before, or the fact that he—and all his stupid cockiness—somehow seemed to know that already.

Everything she could think to text back to him sounded stupid or lame or just plain petty. Instead, she turned off her phone without responding.

The only thing she wanted to give to Oliver right now was her silence.

  *  *  *  

ZOE
attempted to remember all the tips the girls had ever told her . . .

Watch your teeth.

Don't forget to use your hands.

Make
eye contact
.

She remembered Alex had said something about sucking on an ice cube first in order to make the whole thing feel cold or something, but Zoe didn't have an ice cube, so that piece of advice wasn't really all that helpful.

Mostly, Zoe just followed her instincts, which seemed to be working well enough. Austin
seemed
to be having a good time. A very good time. But Zoe still wasn't sure whether or
not she was doing it right. “You're doing it
so
right,” Austin assured her. He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his feet on the floor and his pants and boxers down around his ankles. Zoe was kneeling down in front of him. “It feels amazing,” he insisted, “like, really, the only thing that could even possibly be better right now would be if we were having sex.”

Whoa.

Zoe stopped what she was doing again and sat back on her heels.

“You want to have sex?”

“Um. Yeah,” Austin said as if that were the only pos­sible answer. “But I know you haven't, so I didn't think . . . I wasn't sure if you wanted to.”

“I do want to,” Zoe said all at once. She was almost surprised how quickly and confidently the words came out of her mouth. Her voice wasn't shaking. Her body wasn't squirming. Her face was red, but not more than usual, and that was mostly because Austin's penis had been in her mouth until just, like, thirty seconds earlier . . .

She hadn't told Austin about the sex pact, but this felt like so much more than that now.

Zoe wanted to have sex
with Austin
. And she told him again that she did.

He could not have been more excited to hear it.

“Now?” he asked with a gigantic grin on his face.

  *  *  *  

LAYLA
opened Logan's sixth red Valentine's Day envelope very carefully.

She didn't
want to mess up her freshly painted nails. So far, the first few envelopes had led Layla to the Coffee Bean on Pico for an iced vanilla latte, to the small park near her house for a quick ride on the swing set, to her favorite nail place for a mani-pedi, and now they were just finishing lunch at The Apple Pan, an old-fashioned burger spot they both loved.

Layla read the sixth clue:
You wore a headband in your hair. I won a giant teddy bear. This was the site of our first real date. There are still quite a few hours until sunset—but I'm so excited I cannot wait . . .

Of course Layla knew that their first date was at the Santa Monica Pier. The teddy bear was still sitting on top of the bookshelf in her bedroom.

“Don't worry,” Logan said, chuckling, “the rhymes are only gonna get worse . . .”

“Not worried,” Layla said, but even as the words came out of her mouth, she could feet a pit hardening in the back of her throat. Again, she could feel her heart drop down into her feet, overcome by gravity. This moment, this day, this scavenger hunt, this whole first time, was everything Layla could've hoped for. . . .

Logan was surpassing all of her wildest dreams.

And yet . . . Layla could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as she and Logan walked back to his car. She glanced over at him. He was being so cute and so natural, so effortless . . . and Layla felt so exactly the opposite of that, all calculated and forced. They climbed back into Logan's car and sat together for a minute. No music. No talking. Just
their own quiet thoughts. And then a few tears rolled down Layla's face. Layla had never felt smaller.

“Talk to me,” Logan said finally.

“This was my idea . . .”

“What was?”

“The scavenger hunt. The date.
Tonight
.”

“Yeah,” Logan said, already reading between the lines. He knew Layla well enough to know what was coming next.

“I'm sorry.” She tried to find more words to add to those first two, to find a good explanation for what she was feeling and why she wasn't ready to have sex, but Logan stopped her.

“Hey. It's okay,” he said. “And it's still Valentine's Day. Let's go to the pier?”

“Please,” Layla said, already feeling lighter.

Logan started the car. He pulled out of the parking lot and turned right on Pico Boulevard, heading west. “We have bomb dinner reservations tonight.”

“Please tell me it's sushi . . .”

“Layla,
come on
, can you please not ruin everything?” Logan teased.

“Oh God . . .”

“Too soon?

“
Way
too soon,” Layla teased back. “And I didn't ruin
everything
. There are still seven more clues, right? Six, I guess, since I know about the sushi.”

“Right,” Logan said with some heaviness in his voice.

Now it was Layla's turn to read between the lines . . .

She knew him well enough to know he wasn't going to give her any more clues.

“It's not that I don't
want
you to have them. But they start to get, like . . . sexy,” Logan explained with a little smile, trying to make light of it. Layla nodded, letting that sink in. She tried to keep her face from looking disappointed, but she couldn't help it. “
Lay
,” Logan said in a tone of voice that managed to be playful and honest and sincere all at the same time, “if it's okay for you to tell me you don't want to have sex tonight, then I think you have to be okay with me not giving you any more clues.”

Layla nodded again. “I just wish the physical and the emotional weren't so tangled for you,” she said as plainly as possible, but she could still hear a bit of sharpness in her voice.

“Of course they are. I think that's how it works. But that doesn't mean whatever's
not
connected isn't, you know . . . great.” In Layla's head the word “great” basically sounded the same as the word “awful.” “Come on, Layla, you know I love you, right? To the moon and back.” Logan waited for Layla to nod before saying anything else. “And you gotta know I'm gonna love you even if . . . I mean, no matter what happens or doesn't happen tonight, but I wrote the clues when I thought we were gonna have sex, so . . .” Logan paused for another moment before asking, “We're . . . we're
not
, right?”

“I feel like you're holding out on me,” Layla said, avoiding the question.

“Can I say the same thing? Or does that make me an asshole?”

“You're not an asshole, but you should tell me if you're mad—”

“I'm not
mad
, Layla, but I think I'
m allowed to be, like,
disappointed
if we don't end up having sex.” Layla could feel her face and all of its features sinking towards the floor. “I know you think I'm all perfect all the time, like this perfect boyfriend, but I'm really not . . .”

“No, stop that, you
are
perfect—”

“Then, why don't you want to have sex with me?!” Logan asked, finally allowing himself to get heated.

“I don't know!” Layla said loudly, filling all the space inside the car with her voice and her breath and her emotions. “It just feels like . . .
pressure
. All the clues and everything—”

“I only did all that stupid shit because you asked for it! I was ready to just do it in my car a month ago—”

“Jesus Christ, Logan, yes, I know, your
stupid
car,” Layla yelled, annoyed they were even having this
conversation
in Logan's car let alone somehow still sort of entertaining the possibility of having sex in it. “I don't want to ‘
just
do it', but if that's what you really want, then maybe we should pull over right now—”

“Layla, stop it—”

“Why? We both know you have a condom in your glove compartment!”

“I actually have
two
condoms in my glove compartment!” Logan said, trying to calm Layla down, but the words came out of his mouth loudly—very,
very
loudly—which caused him to break into an unexpectedly big belly laugh.

Layla couldn't help but join in on the laughing too.

And before they knew it, their laughter had taken over completely, wrapping them both up in an uncontrollable fit and giving them a much-needed break in the conversation.

“What are we doing?” Logan finally managed to ask, far more softly.

“I hope we're still driving to the pier.”

“Okay, good. Me too.”

“I'm sorry,” Layla said after a bit of a pause.

“It's called
Love Story
,” Logan said after some more silence.

“What?”

“The movie with that quote, ‘Love means never having to say you're sorry'? It's called
Love Story
.” Layla couldn't help but think that maybe Logan had written that in one of the envelopes she wasn't going to get to read. She agreed with Logan's mom, it
was
one of the stupidest things she'd ever heard. She was in love with Logan, but she was also sorry.

Very sorry.

And she simply had to say it to him.

Then, the red light they'd been sitting at for a small eternity finally turned green, and Logan continued to drive west toward the Santa Monica Pier as if nothing had changed between them.

Even though, clearly, everything had.

EMMA
glanced at the stack of phones in the center of the table.

So far it was just hers and Alex's and Zoe's. There was no sign of Layla.

Normally, Layla was the first one to arrive and claim a spot in The Bigg Chill line, which was usually so long it went all the way out the door. The rest of The Crew would arrive before Layla reached the front, and they'd all order together. But today, it was Emma, Zoe, and Alex who made it all the way to the front of the line without any sign of Layla. Alex had already tried every flavor. And Bigg Chill Aaron had already filled their orders. And the girls had already claimed their usual table in the back corner. Now, the three of girls sat together, more or less in silence, picking at their yogurt, and blatantly stalling as they waited for Layla.

Just as Emma was about to ask if maybe they should
try texting or even calling, Layla came bounding through the door of The Bigg Chill, causing the welcome mat to make its familiar, happy ding-dong noise. “There she is!” Alex said, using an outside voice, “Layla Baxter, ladies and gentleman . . .” Emma applauded along with Alex, making a bit of a scene in the Sunday afternoon froyo parlor. Emma noticed that Zoe hadn't really joined in on the merriment.

  *  *  *  

LAYLA
humored the girls with a bit of a wave and then beelined for the counter.

She knew she was late, but she desperately needed some froyo before she'd be able to talk to them. Luckily, Bigg Chill Aaron was waiting to take her order.

“Good timing,” he said, remarking on the rare absence of the usually long line. “You want The Layla?” He didn't seem to realize that he'd called her order “The Layla” until he'd already said it. “I mean, uh,
the usual
,” he corrected as quickly as he could. “Half peanut butter, half chocolate, Sno-Caps on the side?”

“Yes, please. And, for the record, I love that you just called it The Layla.”

“Cool, yeah. Don't worry. I'm only, you know,
marginally
embarrassed . . .” Bigg Chill Aaron said as he flashed his sideways smile. Layla smiled back, holding his eyes for an extra moment before joining the rest of The Crew at their table.

She dropped her overnight bag on the floor.

She put her cell phone on top of the phone stack.

She pushed her bangs out of her eyes.

She stuck her spoon in her froyo and took a big bite.

And then, when she couldn't think of any more ways to delay the inevitable, she took a little inhale and finally just came out with it: “Still a virgin.”

“Whoa,” Zoe said softly, almost reflexively.

“Yeah.” It was still sinking in for Layla, too.

“I kind of figured . . . 'cause you didn't send a sexie,” Alex admitted. “Are you okay?”

Layla
was
okay.

More or less . . .

“You know I don't like it when the plan changes, even if I'm the one who changes it.”

“Did . . . um . . . did you guys break up?” Emma asked carefully.

“What? No—
no
!” They hadn't broken up, and to be honest they hadn't even discussed that as a possibility, but Layla could feel the quick cadence of her words and the weight of her body language . . . she knew it was all overcompensating. The fact that Layla had to try so hard with her face and her smile and everything made her sick to her stomach or maybe even sick to her heart, which was sitting all the way down on top of her feet again.

Layla had hoped some of her heaviness might have disappeared now that she and Logan hit the snooze button on their V-card swap, but it felt like her emotions simply didn't work like that.