Page 44 of Searching for Beautiful
He ignores that. “You want one?”
“Sure. ” Butterflies suddenly start racing in my belly. Christian doesn’t stop swinging, just holds out his hand. I almost stop because there’s no way we can pass a piece of candy to each other while we’re going like this. But then…I decide to just try.
I hold out my hand, too, and when we’re both all the way forward, all the way to the sky, our hands touch, Christian passing the red Dot to me.
It’s almost like we’re holding hands, but of course it’s only about one second, and then he’s gone. Suddenly I’m flying higher than I ever have. I put the candy into my mouth. “Thanks. ”
“Any time, Bryntastic. What are friends for?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Now
After I roll over in bed, I grab my cell phone from the table. Without letting myself think about it, I dial Christian.
“Hello?” His voice is scratchy from sleep.
“Bet you didn’t know when you gave me your number that I’d use it in the middle of the night. ” My chest swells at the sound of my relaxed voice.
“Eh, I’m not worried about it. I’m learning you like to keep me on my toes. ”
I decide to pretend that’s what’s really going on here. “I used to love the swings,” I blurt out.
Christian doesn’t laugh or ask me where that came from. He just says, “I remember. ”
My mind wanders back to that day, with the Dots on the swings, and I wonder if Christian is thinking about the same thing. “I remember swinging with you. You gave me a Dot. ”
Christian chuckles. “I think I just wanted to hold your hand. ”
My heart jumps into my throat, but then Christian adds, “It was a big deal to hold a girl’s hand back then. ”
“So all the girls had to watch out for you? Christian Medina, holding hands and breaking hearts?”
“Yeah, something like that. ”
From there we talk about a show he saw on TV and a class Brenda and Sally are taking. He doesn’t ask why I called so late, even when I apologize for waking him up. Soon, I hear his guitar through the phone, and I ask him what songs he’s playing. From there, our conversation switches to music.
There’s not a moment I feel stupid for calling him in the middle night—only glad that I did.
…
I’m brushing my hair the next morning when there’s a knock on my bedroom door. “Come in. ” I don’t bother to turn, since I can see the door in the mirror. Dad comes inside with a frown on his face.
“The boy from next door is here. Christian? He wants to see if you need a ride to school. ” The tone of his voice, confusion mixed with something I don’t understand, tells me he doesn’t think this is a good idea. Dad never would have cared before if I got a ride to school with a boy. It puts a small dent in my new armor.
“Okay. ” I shrug. “He’s just being nice. ”
Dad sighs, looking older than he should. “Brynn…I’m not sure. ” He shakes his head. “I just don’t know. ”
Each of his words is like a little hammer, chipping away at me. This is a dad. My dad. He’s not supposed to sound so unsure. He’s supposed to know everything. He’s supposed to trust me.
“You have your own car,” he adds.
“I know. ” Which means I don’t really need a ride, but something inside me wants one. Wants to sit in the car and talk with him the way I did last night.
I turn to face him. “He’s just being nice. We’re only friends. ” The words don’t sound as foreign on my tongue as I imagined they would.
He shakes his head in a way that says, I give up. I wish he wouldn’t give up on me so easily. Not like I don’t want to ride to school with Christian, but I don’t want it to be a big deal. Or maybe I want Dad to fight me on it, like it is one. For hi
