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I
’m in my room, flipping through magazines while I commiserate with Gracie via texting, because Drew and Noah have away games again all weekend. It’s Saturday morning, the day before Valentine’s Day. Not much of a romantic weekend!

It’s been a week since the dance. I’ve had time to roll this thing about Noah around and around in my head. I’ve prayed about it. Jesus says to forgive and not to judge, and I’m really trying to do that. And by the way, Noah’s right: He didn’t even know me when he slept with Isabelle. He didn’t cheat on
me
. Still, every time I pass Isabelle in the halls, I cringe. But, then, Noah is so cute and funny and never mentions other girls or even pays attention to them, unless you count hanging with my friends. He is a Christian, right? Why and when did he decide not to wait until marriage? But Noah makes me happy — so happy. And he isn’t pressuring me at all. So, for now, all is good, well mostly.

“Knock, knock,” Mom says from the hallway, even though my door’s open.

G2G

I text to Gracie and click my phone shut.

“What’s up?” I ask Mom.

“Noah’s here.” Mom smiles a mischievous smile.

“Aaagh!” I scream. I know why Mom’s smiling. I’m still
wearing my pj’s, and I’m not wearing a drop of makeup.

“How long can you stall him?” I ask.

“Well, I’m cute.” Mom winks. “But I don’t think he came to see me.”

“Right.” I tug off my flannel pants and jump into a pair of jeans wadded up at the foot of my bed. Thankfully, my lilac hoodie is clean and sitting on my dresser in a stack of folded clothes. I pull it over my cami and rush to the bathroom before my head even pops through the neck hole. I brush my teeth and wash my face in record time and settle with mascara and lip gloss. The whole process takes about three minutes.

“Hey.” I smile, trying not to sound out of breath as I walk down the stairs. Noah stands in the hallway all mussed, like he just crawled out of bed.

“Hey.” He pecks me on the cheek. He still smells of sleep and covers. I want to cozy up next to him. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Nothing. Didn’t Mom invite you in?”

“I was hoping to convince you to come out.”

“Where? I thought you were out of town?”

“It’s a surprise.” His cheeks flush. “We got back late, and we’re leaving in three hours to go back. Coach decided at the last minute not to stay in Ackley overnight.”

I bite my bottom lip. I wasn’t expecting to see him today and wondered if Valentine’s meant anything to him, and here he is at my house with a secret plan!

“I already checked with your Mom, and she’s okay. You game?”

“Sure, what should I wear?”

He rolls his eyes. “Look at me, Linds. Does it look like it matters?”

“Am I okay, really?”

“Really. But grab a coat and gloves and maybe a hat.” He looks down at my feet. “You’ll need taller socks. No footies allowed.”

“Right.” I laugh.

“No, seriously,” he says.

I don’t have a clue where he’s taking me, but I do know a hat will ruin anything decent I have going on with my hair. Agh, who cares?!

“Just a sec.” I giggle as I trot into the kitchen.

“Mom, Noah says you’re okay if we go somewhere?”

“Have fun.” Mom smiles knowingly while mushing ground beef into meatballs. The smell of the spices she’s mixing fill the kitchen and tickle my nose.

“You know where we’re going, don’t you?” I march right up next to her.

“Yup.” She looks down at the meaty mess. “But I’m not telling.” She gives a fake twang. “Just go, or I’ll have to touch you!” Mom holds up her fingers dripping with ground beef.

“Ahhh!” I scream and dart to the closet. I pull on my puffy coat with the cute faux-fur-lined hood and my cream knit mittens and hat. I sprint up the stairs and grab a pair of socks and my UGGs. As soon as I have them on, I spring back down. I shrug as I take a quick glance in the hall mirror.

“Ready,” I announce back in the foyer.

Noah puts his gloved hand in my mittened one as we traipse through the neighborhood. Maybe he’s taking me to his house. I hope there’s not a
Mighty Ducks 4.
But we don’t go that way. We head toward the big field fringed by corkscrew willows that separates our subdivision from the next one. Whoever owns the land won’t sell, so it remains untouched and wild.

“Wow, I haven’t been out here in forever.” I sigh. “I used to
catch frogs, climb trees, pretend I was on secret missions, all kinds of stuff out here.”

“I think everyone in the neighborhood used it as an escape. I love this place.” Noah squeezes my hand. “Well, here we are.” We’re standing on the edge of the pond frozen over with thick, dark green ice. Noah walks behind a tree stump and pulls out two pairs of ice skates.

“Sit down, Cinderella. Let me put on your glass slippers.”

“We’re skating?” He must have planned everything. He stashed the skates here. He set things up with Mom.

“I want to share this with you,” Noah whispers.

I can’t answer. My emotions are stuck in a thick, gooey ball in my throat. I know skating means everything to him. I sit obediently and let him lace my skates. When they’re tied he laces his own.

“Ready.” He takes my hand.

The cold, metallic scraping of skates on ice echoes through the vacant field. It’s just Noah and me. He faces me and holds my hands, skating backward as we make our way slowly around the pond.

“I didn’t know anyone skated out here.” My words seem too loud for this peaceful, private spot.

“It’s where I learned.” Snow shavings fly from Noah’s left skate as he flips his ankles to a stop. “Ice time is expensive, and the rink’s always packed. So, on days I didn’t have hockey, I’d come out here and practice and practice and practice.” His voice trails off as he leans forward to kiss me. His lips are warm and sweet.

“I love you, Lindsey. Happy Valentine’s Day.” His emerald eyes peek through his thick lashes.

I feel like I’m in a movie. I can’t remember ever being this happy.

“I love you, too.” I hadn’t said it out loud to my friends or even to myself, but I knew it was true. The words had bubbled at my lips a couple of times, but I didn’t want him to think I was clingy and way too into him. Noah saying it first means everything.

He kisses me again, just quick and soft then pulls my hands to keep skating. He doesn’t say anything about what we’ve confessed. As always, it seems so natural with him.

The only interruption of the
swish, swish
of our skates is birds chirping in the branches of the willow trees that hang so low they tickle the frozen ground. “You getting chilly?” Noah asks.

I want to lie and say no. I never want to leave this magical spot, but I feel like a human Popsicle. “I’m freezing.” My teeth chatter as I form the words.

We go back to the bumpy log and unlace our skates. Noah pulls out a thermos. He unscrews the top and pours steaming cocoa into the red plastic lid that doubles as a cup. It’s sweet and warm and creamy going down, and helps thaw my insides, but I’m still shivering.

“We’ve got to get you back.” Noah laughs. “You’re like Karen in
Frosty the
Snowman
, remember? In the refrigerated boxcar?”

I laugh. “Only, you’re much cuter than Frosty.” I kiss Noah’s cheek.

Inside my front door I stamp my feet in an effort to shake off the chill.

“Let’s go beg Dad to make a fire.” I grab Noah’s hand. “He’s actually in town!”

“I’d love to, Linds, but I’ve got a game. I really have to get going.”

I know he has a game, but I’m crushed. I don’t want him to leave.
I love him!

“I’m really sorry.” He leans over and holds me. “I wanted to
do something with you for Valentine’s. Something special.” Every inch of my body is against a part of him. My shivers cease. I love him even more for hugging me, instead of trying to make out. His lips brush mine for an instant, then he whispers it again: “I love you.”

“Hang on a minute!” I remember the valentine I have for him in my room. I fly upstairs, grab the package in pink tissue paper with the card taped on top. I run as fast as I can back down the steps and arrive at the bottom, out of breath.

“For you.” I catch some air. “It’s nothing, compared to what you gave me.”

“What is it?” he asks and raises his eyebrows.

“You can open.” I nod.

He reads the card, laughs, then gives me a quick kiss. He shreds the beautifully wrapped package as only a guy could do. “Yum!” he declares and grabs one of the brownies with bittersweet frosting I made for him. Then he takes the frame I painted to look like his hockey uniform at Emma’s mom’s pottery place. He runs his fingertips over the picture of us taken at youth group a couple of weeks ago.

“You are so gorgeous.” He shakes his head.

“I love you.” I reach up to ruffle that fabulous hair. “Thank you for the best Valentine’s ever.”

“It is the best. I love this pic.” He grins, one side of his mouth creeping up more than the other. He’s on the step when I remember.

“Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks.”

And he’s gone.

A
nd swivel, swivel to the left.” Todd’s voice booms over the music in the church gym.

“Swivel, swivel to the right, swivel, swivel all day and night.” Todd breaks out into hysterical laughter, grabs me around the waist and dips me, like Fred Astaire. I am caught completely off guard and have to wiggle and stumble to stop myself from falling flat on my back. Todd’s laughter is contagious. I can’t breathe, laughing this hard in a backbend.

“Enough ladies.” He expertly rolls me up his arm, like a rag doll, into standing position.

“Enough for today. Enjoy your weekend.” He doubles over, still laughing.

“Thanks for the dance.” I bow toward him.

He smiles his mischievous smile, then flies to the jam box. I have no idea how his body moves like that, like a marionette on strings, effortless, soft and flouncy.

“I secretly admit I’m relieved the basketball team’s away tonight.” Melissa wipes her sweaty forehead with a towel. “I don’t have enough energy to perform!”

“I am so glad, because it means you guys are spending the night! I’m so psyched!” I swallow half my Evian in one gulp. It’s been a week now since Valentine’s Day, and while I’m still
reeling in romance, I am really looking forward to a night with just the girls. “Come on.” I grab Melissa’s arm, barely allowing her to gather her things and tug on her coat. I hustle her to the parking lot where Mom’s Prius is just arriving.

“Did you get out early?” Mom looks puzzled as we scurry into the car.

“No, just ready to party.” I smile, reaching for the volume on the stereo. I punch the station to Air1 and crank it up. Melissa and I dance the best we can while buckled. Mom laughs.

“What time’s everyone else coming?” Melissa shouts over the stereo.

I turn down the volume to answer, “Around six. That gives us time to shower and change and . . .” I look hopefully to Mom. “Order pizza.”

“I already said you could order two pizzas.” She smiles.

“And, we can pour the M&M’s in bowls and maybe sample half a bag or so until the other girlies ding-dong.” Ick! Why’d I say that? I always talk about food; I forget Melissa struggles so much with eating. She’s great, though. She just rolls with it.

“Sounds great.” Melissa bobs her head.

Emma, Raven, Gracie, Melissa, and I lounge in the family room. Plates with half-eaten pizza crusts and bowls with melted puddles of ice cream litter the coffee table. The plasma TV is on, the lights are low, and Raven’s got the clicker. She pauses on MTV.

“Isn’t that Scarlett Johansson?” Emma asks.

“Yeah, I think so.” I examine her pouty lips and curvy body. “Why do you think a big actress like her would do a video?”

“Because it’s with Justin Timberlake is why.” Gracie unrolls her sleeping bag.

We all sit mesmerized by the music and the dancing and the hoops and the flames and Scarlett’s lips and Justin’s hands. I feel squirmy and uncomfortable. I mean it’s just a video, not some X movie or something, but wow!

“Wow!” Raven passes the clicker to Melissa. “That makes me feel naughty.”

I’m glad I’m not the only one. Ever since the incident on Noah’s couch, I’ve had temptations I didn’t even know existed. As a Christian, especially one who’s saving herself, I know they’re all wrong, and I’ve tried to ignore them. But this sultry video makes sensuality so intriguing.

“I am naughty!” Emma drawls in a suggestive voice begging for attention.

“We know that.” Gracie laughs.

“No, really naughty.” Emma’s laugh is almost a cackle.

“What do you mean?” Melissa asks, eyes wide.

“Promise not to tell?” Emma lures us into her secret.

“Promise,” we say, huddling close.

“I’m sleeping with Peter,” she announces and then adds for effect, “and he’s totally hot!”

“You vixen!” Raven cries.

“When did all this happen?” Gracie asks.

“Recently.” Emma digs her fingers into the M&M bowl. “Remember that night at the dance when he drove me home?”

“Wow, that first night?!” I ask incredulously.
That’s just so fast and so wrong!
my radar shouts. They’re barely dating. I know he didn’t even get her a card for Valentine’s. I also know his Facebook profile lists him as single, and that really vexes Em. Now I know why it bothers her so much.

“No!” She elbows me. “Not then. That’s when he first kissed me.” She shrugs coyly. “Plus a little more.”

“This is really . . . big.” Melissa paces her words.

“You’re being safe, right?” Gracie lays her hand on Emma’s arm.

“Whatever.” Emma rolls her eyes. “So, anyway, the next night he offered to take me home, and things got hotter and heavier, and he says he’s absolutely crazy about me.” She bats her thickly mascaraed lashes dramatically. “So not last Saturday, but the one before, after the hockey game.”

I flash back to the game.

“Remember, we all hung out for a minute around the locker rooms to congratulate the guys when they came out?”

I nod and pop some M&M’s in my mouth to keep from saying anything I’ll regret. The sweet chocolate calms me for a second. I feel so anxious for Emma. Why did she do this? And why is she so proud?

“Yeah.” Raven leans back against the couch. “Randy and I went home with Mom and Dad, and you’re saying something huge happened after we piled into the Explorer.”

“Lindsey and Noah had a quick smooch when no one was looking — except me.” She glances at me sideways.

I blush. I had hoped no one had seen. I mean, everyone knows Noah and I are together. But, I like the no PDA rule for dance team. It keeps all of our intimate stuff . . . intimate.

“Gracie and Drew hugged, so sweet!” Emma makes kissy lips. “Melissa waited graciously.”

“You went home with Peter!” Melissa remembers.

“I did indeed!” Emma shakes her shoulders. “And no one was home at his house. He played this great music, and we did it then and again on Sunday afternoon and Thursday after school, too!”

“Get out!” I’m unable to keep quiet a second longer. “When were you going to tell us?”

“Now.” Emma smiles. “I’m telling you now, when I have you all gathered together in one happy place.” She raises her eyebrows.

“So, what’s it like?” Gracie asks.

“Gracie!” Melissa slaps her.

“Just curious . . .” Gracie shrugs.

“Come on?” Emma raises her eyebrows. “You and Drew never do?”

Gracie shakes her head.

“Did it hurt?” Raven scrunches her nose.

“I thought you were going to wait!” I blurt before Emma can answer. I don’t want to accuse her, especially in front of everyone, but I thought that was the deal. I feel like she cheated. I feel like she cheated on me.

It sounds like someone just yanked the cord on my hair dryer — unexpectedly and painfully silent.

“Number one, Miss Perfect . . .” Emma turns to face me. Her voice has morphed from storyteller to litigator. “I never put on a chastity ring or anything. And number two, you’re supposed to be my friend, not my mother!”

A total slap in the face! She hates her mom.

“I’m sorry, Em. I’m not saying what you did is wrong. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” I lean in and hug her. “This is huge and you shocked the daylights out of me.” I feel her body shake for one second in my arms. Is she crying or laughing? Then she tightens like a starched shirt.

“Well, you know I love shock value.” She pulls back and grins.