“He pats his way around the bed and slides back in. 'Ow,' he says.'Yes?''My belt. Would it be weird...'I’m thankful he can’t see me blush. 'Of course not.' And I listen to the slap of leather as he pulls it out of his belt loops. He lays it gently on my hardwood floor.'Um,' he says. 'Would it be weird—''YES.''Oh, piss off. I’m not talking trousers. I only want under the blankets.That breeze is horrible.' He slides underneath, and now we’re lying side by side. In my narrow bed. Funny, but I never imagined my first sleepover with a guy being, well, a sleepover.'All we need now are 'Sixteen Candles' and a game of Truth or Dare.'He coughs. 'Wh-what?''The movie, pervert. I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve had a sleepover.'A pause. 'Oh.”

“He pats his way around the the bed and slides back in. "Ow," he says."yes?""My belt. Would it be weird..."I'm thankful he can't see me blush."Of course not." And I listen to the slap of leather, s he pulls it out of his belt loops. He lays it gently on my hardwood floor."Um," he says. "Would it be weird-" "yes""Oh, piss off. I'm not talking trousers. I only want under the blankets. That breeze is horrible." He slides underneath, and now we're lying side-by-side. In my narrow bed. Funny, but I never never imagined my first sleepover with a guy being, well, a sleepover.”

“She's probably just tired of seeing you miserable.Like we all are," I add. "I'm sure...I'm sure she's as crazy about you as ever.""Hmm." He watches me put away my own shoes and empty the contents of my pockets. "What about you?" he asks, after a minute."What about me?"St. Clair examines his watch. "Sideburns. You'll be seeing him next month."He's reestablishing...what? The boundary line? That he's taken, and I'm spoken for? Except I'm not. Not really.But I can't bear to say this now that he's mentioned Ellie. "Yeah,I can't wait to see him again. He's a funny guy, you'd like him.I'm gonna see his band play at Christmas. Toph's a great guy, you'd really like him. Oh. I already said that,didn't I? But you would. He's really...funny."Shut up,Anna. Shut.Up.St. Clair unbuckles and rebuckles and unbuckles his watchband."I'm beat," I say. And it's the truth. As always, our conversation has exhausted me. I crawl into bed and wonder what he'll do.Lie on my floor? Go back to his room? But he places his watch on my desk and climbs onto my bed. He slides up next to me. He's on top of the covers, and I'm underneath. We're still fully dressed,minus our shoes, and the whole situation is beyond awkward.He hops up.I'm sure he's about to leave,and I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed,but...he flips off my light.My room is pitch-black. He shuffles back toward my bed and smacks into it."Oof," he says."Hey,there's a bed there.""Thanks for the warning.""No problem.""It's freezing in here.Do you have a fan on or something?""It's the wind.My window won't shut all the way.I have a towel stuffed under it, but it doesn't really help."He pats his way around the bed and slides back in. "Ow," he says."Yes?""My belt.Would it be weird..."I'm thankful he can't see my blush. "Of course not." And I listen to the slap of leather as he pulls it out of his belt loops.He lays it gently on my hardwood floor."Um," he says. "Would it be weird-""Yes.""Oh,piss off.I'm not talking trousers. I only want under the blankets. That breeze is horrible." He slides underneath,and now we're lying side by side. In my narrow bed. Funny,but I never imagined my first sleepover with a guy being,well,a sleepover."All we need now are Sixteen Candles and a game of Truth or Dare."He coughs. "Wh-what?""The movie,pervert.I was just thinking it's been a while since I've had a sleepover."A pause. "Oh.""...""...""St. Clair?""Yeah?""Your elbow is murdering my back.""Bollocks.Sorry." He shifts,and then shifts again,and then again,until we're comfortable.One of his legs rests against mine.Despite the two layers of pants between us,I feel naked and vulnerable. He shifts again and now my entire leg, from calf to thigh, rests against his. I smell his hair. Mmm.NO!I swallow,and it's so loud.He coughs again. I'm trying not to squirm. After what feels like hours but is surely only minutes,his breath slows and his body relaxes.I finally begin to relax, too. I want to memorize his scent and the touch of his skin-one of his arms, now against mine-and the solidness os his body.No matter what happens,I'll remember this for the rest of my life.I study his profile.His lips,his nose, his eyelashes.He's so beautiful.”

“I think we're the only ones in the building," he says."Then no one will mind when I do this!" I jump onto the desk and parade back and forth. St. Clair belts out a song, and I shimmy to the sound of his voice. When he finishes,I bow with a grand flourish."Quick!" he says."What?" I hop off the desk. Is Nate here? Did he see?But St. Clair runs to the stairwell. He throws open the door and screams. The ehco makes us both jump, and then together we scream again at the top of our lungs. It's exhilarating. St. Clair chases me to the elevator,and we ride it to the rooftop. He hangs back but laughs as I spit off the side, trying to hit a lingerie advertisement. The wind is fierce,and my aim is off,so I race back down two flights of stairs. Our staircase is wide and steady, so he's only a few feet behind me. We reach his floor."Well," he says. Our conversation halts for the first time in hours.I look past him. "Um.Good night.""See you tomorrow? Late breakfast at the creperie?""That'd be nice.""Unless-" he cuts himself off.Unless what? He's hesitant, changed his mind. The moment passes. I give him one more questioning look, but he turns away."Okay." It's hard to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "See you in the morning." I take the steps down and glance back.He's staring at me. I lift my hand and wave. He's oddly statuesque. I push through the door to my floor,shaking my head. I don't understand why things always go from perfect to weird with us. It's like we're incapable of normal human interaction. Forget about it,Anna.The stairwell door bursts open.My heart stops.St. Clair looks nervous. "It's been a good day. This was the first good day I've had in ages." He walks slowly toward me. "I don't want it to end. I don't want to be alone right now.""Uh." I can't breathe.He stops before me,scanning my face. "Would it be okay if I stayed with you? I don't want to make you uncomfortable-""No! I mean..." My head swims. I can hardly think straight. "Yes. Yes, of course,it's okay."St. Clair is still for a moment. And then he nods.I pull off my necklace and insert my key into the lock. He waits behind me. My hand shakes as I open the door.”

“Cricket walks several steps behind me. It's a careful distance. I wonder if he's looking at my butt.WHY DID I JUST THINK THAT? Now my butt feels COLOSSAL. Maybe he's looking at my legs. Is that better? Or worse? Do I want him looking at me? I hold on to the bottom of my dress as I climb into the backseat and crawl to the other side. I'm sure he's looking at my butt. He has to be. It's huge, and it's right there, and it's huge.No. I'm acting crazy.I glance over, and he smiles at me as he buckles his seat belt. My cheeks grow warm.WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?”

“I trail my fingers across his cheek. He stays perfectly still for me. “Please stop apologizing, Étienne.”“Say my name again,” he whispers.I close my eyes and lean forward. “Étienne.”He takes my hands into his.Those perfect hands, that fit mine just so. “Anna?”Our foreheads touch. “Yes?”“Will you please tell me you love me? I’m dying here.”And then we’re laughing. And then I’m in his arms, and we’re kissing, at first quickly—to make up for lost time—and then slowly, because we have allthe time in the world. And his lips are soft and honey sweet, and the careful, passionate way he moves them against my own says that he savors the way Itaste, too.And in between kisses, I tell him I love him.Again and again and again.”

“Lola?" Cricket is on his knees at the side of my bed. I feel it. "I'm here," he whispers. "You can talk to me or not talk to me, but I'm here.”