AUTUMN:  Change of plans. (Ugh.)

MIA:  What’s wrong? ( : -(  )

AUTUMN:  My mom says I can’t come to your place. She’s taking me to Bible Study instead. (She also raided my underwear drawer and left me with only white and beige panties :-/ )

MIA:  OMG, seriously? (I have no words.)

AUTUMN:  Yeah, now I’m counting down the days until high school is over. Now that you have a free day, what are you going to do?

MIA:  Hang around at home, I guess...Dean has a game  tonight.

AUTUMN:  Okay so...Why don’t you go to the game?

MIA:  It’s three counties over.

AUTUMN:  A one hour drive if you take McClellan Lane. (Don’t text me until you’re there and acting like a real girlfriend) (Okay, no. You can definitely text me. I’ll need a distraction during my “return to Jesus” moments at church tonight.  BAHAHAHA!)

I laugh and quickly get dressed, grabbing the keys to my mom’s old car. I’ve only driven it a few times when I needed to run a quick errand, but I figure since she’s at work, I’ll be back before she returns.

I pull off and take the long way to West County—being sure to drive in the slow lane the whole time. As I approach a red light, I consider going back, maybe texting Dean and asking if I can meet him at his house tonight instead, but something tells me to keep going.

It takes me one and a half hours to find the stadium, and when I get there, the players haven’t even taken the field. Both Central High and West High teams are sitting in the bleachers, laughing and talking with one another, acting as if they’re not going to compete against each other later tonight.

I walk past them, looking for Dean, but he isn’t there. I head down to the underside of the bleachers, and see him and his Dad.

I start to step back, to try and get out of sight, but his green eyes immediately meet mine.

“Don’t fuck this up, Dean.” His dad hits him in the chest. “Do. Not. Fuck. This. Up.” He hisses at him and storms off, muttering a string of curse words with his every step.

I stand there, unsure of what to do, and then Dean walks over to me.

“What are you doing here?” He puts his arm around my shoulder.

“I wanted to see you...Are you okay?”

“No.” He looks down at me. “Not at all.”

“Something I can do to help?”

“You just did.” He kisses me, holding me tighter than he’s ever held me before. “How did you get here?”

“I drove my Mom’s car.”

“Would you mind if I drove it to take us back?”

“Sure. After the game?”

“No, right now.”

“What?”

“Now.” He starts walking me toward the parking lot. “The game is on hold for weather anyway. Too much ice, so I’m sure they’ll be cancelling it.”

“What about your teammates?”

“They know,” he said. “Don’t worry about them. Which car is it?”

“The red Corolla over there.”

He walks me over to it and I hand him the keys.

“Thank you.” He says, kissing me and opening the door for me.

“For what?”

“For continuing to be the only person in my life I can actually trust...” He shuts my door and slides behind the wheel, speeding away. As he drives through the counties, I notice his phone ringing, notice the word “Dad” appear on the screen.

He picks it up, looks at it, and tosses it into the backseat. “I’ll deal with that later. Where do you want to go?”

***

Later that night, he waits until my mom is gone to her latest psychiatric conference before he comes over. He follows me up to my room and pulls me onto the bed.

Kissing me, he tells me I’m the best part of his day.

“You’re the same,” I say, breathlessly.

“What’s this?” He grabs my unopened letter from Western Peak. “Isn’t this the school you actually want to go to?”

I nod, reaching for it, but he holds it higher.

“If you want to go so badly, why haven’t you opened it?”

“I’m scared it’s going to be a no.”

“But what if it’s a yes?” He looks confused.

“If it was a yes, they would’ve sent it in a bigger envelope, don’t you think?”

“No.” He sits up and pulls me against his chest. “The University of Pittsburgh sent me my acceptance letter in a postcard. When were you planning to open this?”

“After Christmas.”

“Christmas or Christmas break, Mia?” he asks. “If it’s the former, you’re already late. If it’s the latter, you have another week.”

“The latter, then.”

He gives me a look that say he doesn’t believe me.

“I’m serious, Dean. I’ll open it once school starts.”

“Okay, well I’ll open it for you now and then I’ll tape it back up so you can open it then.”

My eyes go wide and I try to stop him, but within seconds he’s ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter.

I look away from him and sigh as he reads it, debating whether now is finally the time when I’ll finally need to thrash him.

“I hate that you just did that,” I say, still not looking at him. “I really hate that you didn’t ask me first.”

“You shouldn’t.” He kisses the back of my neck. “You got in.”

“WHAT?” I quickly turn around and grab the paper from him, reading the words for myself.

Full academic scholarship. Room and board coverage. Five-hundred-dollar book scholarship for the first four semesters.

My eyes catch the final paragraph and I almost kick myself for being so paranoid: “We like sending our acceptance letters in a simple fashion. Short, sweet, and to the point. We’ll send you a much more formal packet once we receive your acceptance.”

I burst into tears and Dean wraps his arms around me.

“Congratulations,” he says. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.” I look at him and he wipes away my tears with his fingertips. “Where are you going?”

“The school you don’t want to go to.” He laughs.

“Harvard?”

He nods. “It’s where I’ve always wanted to go. Best way to pursue law or law enforcement. Plus—” He wipes away more of my tears. “If you haven’t gotten rid of me by then, they have a summer program in Boston. I could see you in the summers.”

My heart drops at the thought that we only have one semester and a summer left together, but I try my best not to let it show.

As if he can tell what I’m thinking, he kisses me again and whispers, “We have plenty of time. Don’t think about it. Let’s just focus on making the most of what we have.”

“Okay.”

“How do you want to spend the rest of the night?”

“The same way we spent it the other night.”

“What?” He tilts his head to the side. “What other night?”

“The night at the pool.”

“So, you want me to take you swimming again?” He smirks. “That can be arranged.”

“No...I want to, you know.”

“I don’t know.” He leans forward and gently bites my bottom lip, tugging it. “Tell me.”

I blush as he slips a hand under my shirt and unclasps my bra. “You know what I’m trying to say, Dean...”

“It sounds like you want to have sex again and again, but I’m not sure.” He takes off his shirt. “That’s why I’m asking. Is that it? Do you want to fuck me again?”’

My eyes widen at his last question, but I love that he put it that way. “Yes...Yes, that’s what I want.”

“Good.’ He kisses me. “Lay back and grab the headboard.”

***

The remainder of winter break flies by in a mix of sex with Dean, late night sneak-outs, and several surprise gifts between us.

When the spring semester begins, we still hang out via tutoring afterschool and dates on the weekends, but our time seems more limited. Since the team made the state playoffs, the games are several counties away on some nights, and with Western Peak requiring that I submit a full portfolio before the fall, I find myself a bit more stressed about art than usual.

Dean is crowned Mr. Popular again, to no one’s surprise, (And someone must be playing a joke, because I’m crowned Ms. Popular), but I can’t help but feel that that sweet feeling that we developed during the fall and over winter break is slowly dissipating.