Everyday, it's a-gettin' closer

                                    

                                          
As luck would have it, I was only ten minutes late. It also happened to be when the dark, foreboding clouds were beginning to roll in, and the gusts of wind were non-stop now. Sorting out my hair was going to be a long mission. That was okay, though. The afternoon had been one of the best, and if the only consequence I had to deal with was the messy hair, well, it was a very small price to pay. 
                          
Ivy started up the car when we approached. Angus walked me to the passenger's side, and I knew that I should've let go of his hand by now, but I didn't want to say goodbye. Saying goodbye meant going back to reality, and that was something I wanted when I had been stuck in a corner of a grungy bar. Not now. 
                          
"I should be angry with you," I said, squeezing his hand. 
                          
He raised his eyebrows in response. "Oh?"
                          
"Quite rude of you to interrupt my normal routine. Now it looks rather boring." I let go of his hand and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him closer.
                          
He shook his head and leaned in. "Not my fault— " he kissed me, then continued on to say, "That you were kind enough to return my jacket."
                          
"Should've left with the guitar pick." 
                          
"If I remember correctly, had I been a second later, you would've left with it." 
                          
I nodded in agreement. "Would've had quite the story to tell too, but I think I like this one better."
                          
"Good." He leaned in to kiss me again. My eyes closed, my heartbeat slowly picked up its pace when I felt his lips brush mine, and then a car horn went off. 
                          
The passenger window rolled down. 
                          
"We gotta go!" Ivy said. "Kissin' time is over."
                          
"Tomorrow. After classes?" He asked, pulling away. His hands stayed on my hips. I didn't want to let him go.
                          
"You don't even know where my high school is." I took his hands in mine, lazily swinging them between us. His hands were wonderfully warm and callused.  
                          
He looked at me in a way that said I should never doubt him. 
                          
"I'll admit, picking you up would be a lot easier if I knew the name, instead of having to go to every high school."
                          
The car horn went off again. 
                          
"Crestview," I replied, letting go of his hands. And before he had a chance to respond, I stole one more kiss.  "Be there by two-thirty?" I opened the door and hopped into the seat.
                          
"As you wish," he said softly. So softly, it almost couldn't be heard over the wind. Then he shut the door and waved at the both of us. 
                          
Ivy pulled out of the parking lot, traffic not being an issue. The afternoon rush was over. My mind wasn't on that, however, it was still stuck in the garden; snuggled into Angus, my head on his chest, and the thrum of his heartbeat lulling me to sleep. 
                          
"Tell me everything," she said, practically hopping in her seat. 
                          
I shrugged, hiding my smile and doing my best to look neutral. 
                          
"He told me that Mal talked about you. Oh, and he isn't nineteen." I watched the rain, it was falling faster now, pelting on the windshield. The wipers were doing their best, but I could barely see two feet in front of us. I glanced at Ivy, catching the slightest hint of a blush blooming on her cheeks, and I wondered if I had missed anything between her and Mal. Evidently, I had missed something important.  
                          
"So, how old is he then? Twenty?"
                          
Interesting. She ignored the comment about Mal. 
                          
"No, actually, he's eighteen. Won't be nineteen until March. What did you and Mal talk about last night?"
                          
She shrugged. Today was the day of shrugging, it seemed. Then she told me that they didn't talk about much. A brief conversation about music and writing. I believed her, but I didn't believe that that was all. I tried to press for more information, to no avail. She kept her secrets and I kept mine, and when we arrived at my house, she asked me one last question. 
                          
"If you want to keep what you did today a secret, fine, but I gotta ask, are you seeing him?"
                          
"Yes," I said, a flutter occurring in my stomach when I realized, once more, that it was true. I was going out with him.  "He's picking me up after class, tomorrow."
                          
Ivy let out a sound that could only be described as a squeal. 
                          
********
                          
"How did the study session go, dear?" My mom asked when I stepped into the living room. 
                          
"Great. It was great. The test should be easy." I studied my shoe, feeling certain that if I met her gaze, she'd know I was lying. Lucky for me, she didn't pay too much attention. She never did these days. To me or to anyone. Maybe I could've gotten away with looking at her. 
                          
She hummed and opened up a gossip rag. "Wouldn't want bad grades if you want to make something of yourself."
                          
"I was thinking about staying at school a bit longer tomorrow. Take some time to get extra help with history, you know." The last part came out sounding like a question. Partly because I was worried she'd ask questions, and partly because I couldn't remember if she knew that I never struggled with History. She probably didn't know. She only cared about the end product. Which was maintaining straight A's. 
                          
"That's great, dear."
                          
I made my way to my room, stopping in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a bag of Doritos. It felt different entering my room. The last time I was here, I was being coaxed out by Ivy. I'd been annoyed, only wanting to remain in my bed. Now, I have a.... Is boyfriend the right word? I shook my head. No, 'boyfriend' wasn't the right word. I pondered on it for a bit, moving to the bed where I ate some chips while thinking of a good description. I briefly considered reading a book before deciding that I wouldn't be able to concentrate long enough to read more than half a page. 
                          
"Somebody," I mumbled without thinking. "I've got somebody who could be a friend, but who I definitely want more with. And then there's that weird connection." I had no real reason to feel safe with him. No actual evidence as to why I trusted him so fully, and yet, I couldn't help the way I felt. There was no use in denying it. I thought of him, and I felt warmth and comfort. Security. Hope.
                          
Fuck. 
                          
I had hope, and that was probably the scariest thing to me because I had long since given up on the idea of finding someone. After not being asked to a single dance or event, it's easy to begin thinking that something is wrong with you.
                          
I would wager that it's even scarier for something that seemed out of your reach to be suddenly in your grasp. It always feels like it's always going to slip away.
                          
"But I'm seeing him again. He wants to see me." Another flutter.