out a breath and pushed it open.
Wyatt followed.
Across the room, glass doors stood open to her balcony. Long sheaths of translucent white fabric draped across a wrought-iron rod and blew in the breeze. A duvet of sky blue covered the bed, bunched at the edges where the four-poster, walnut frame reached to the ceiling. Art adorned ivory walls, the design broken only by companion dressers and an antique desk Charley had owned since childhood.
They walked past it all and stepped into the night. Stars twinkled above the tree branch buds; night birds sang their evening lullabies.
Charley’s arms snaked around the back of Wyatt’s neck. His wrapped around her waist as they pulled themselves toward each other.
She hesitated with the realization she’d started their activity. Wyatt held her tight when she tried to pull away.
“It’s beautiful out here. Peaceful,” he said.
Charley smiled. “It is.”
The sounds of the night engulfed them: bullfrogs croaked, crickets buzzed, and the breeze shivered through brush.
He slid his cheek against hers. “Are you sure you have to go back?”
“No. I can stay up here.” She misinterpreted on purpose.
Wyatt laid his forehead against hers. “I mean back to New Zealand.”
“Let’s not talk about that.” Charley pressed against him, swayed to one side and back.
In time with her, his body shifted side to side.
“Practicing?”
“Sure.” She touched her cheek to his shoulder. They moved in silence, lost in an unheard love-song.
“Can you stay?” His voice infused sweetness, but Charley heard desperation.
Wyatt pulled back, holding her at arm’s length. She wanted back in, having lost the warmth from his body. More than that, he’d torn her from the only memories she wanted to keep.
“Why not? Can’t you get a visa or something? A green card?”
“I have a visa. But I have family to return to.” She tried to keep her answer simple and truthful, but she shook with a chill as she anticipated his response.
“What about me?”
Charley stared back at him, though her resolve wavered. “We’re friends, Wyatt. We can always stay friends, but my time here was never meant to be permanent.”
“Friends?” He spat the words. “Just friends?” He dropped his arms, and Charley shivered.
She knew he’d see, wondered what he’d do. “More, I think, but you’re young. I’m-young.” She laid her hand over her heart. “Can’t we just enjoy our time together?”
Wyatt pulled her back to him, crushing her against his chest.
“I don’t want to just enjoy it.” Into her hair, his fingers reached through curls she’d left down. His hands moved forward so he held her face in them. She reached back around his neck.
Wyatt drew closer. His sigh blended with hers. “I don’t want to.” His palms held firm against her cheeks, but the softness returned.
She agreed with him, didn’t want their time together to end, either, but her promise would not be broken.
Charley closed her eyes, committing the moment to her mind-his touch, his cologne, the blue of his shirt, how she fit in his arms. Their closeness would be only a memory in a matter of days.
She met his gaze with absolute clarity. She would not make her choice permanent until Wyatt could accept the truth about her.
He drew a quick breath before he tugged and drew her face up to his, tilted his head in the opposite and pressed his lips to hers.
Charley pushed the kiss forward, separated and let her tongue slide against his.
Wyatt reached through curls as Charley fumbled, grasping at his back. Their tongues continued to tease each other. He shifted. She reached-their movements choreographed-as natural as if they’d been together forever.
Breathless, they slowed, connected, enraptured by emotion, their expressions the same.
“I love you,” Wyatt said.
Lips crushed against each other as Charley let herself go.
5
The weekend beckoned, but Friday had come too soon. Only one day remained before the dance and before his favorite girl would leave. The silver and black of their most fashionable tuxes would be donned, flowers pinned, dates on their arms-a night of bliss lay ahead. Wyatt smiled to himself as he thought through his plans.
“Yo, Wyatt, man! See you tomorrow.” A fellow senior sent Wyatt a wave. “Safe trip, Mira,” he said before he disappeared.
“Later, Wyatt.” A Junior walked past. “Bye Mira. Be safe.” She saluted before she skipped into the sunshine.
Wyatt held Mira pressed against his body while he leaned against a bank of lockers, otherwise known as ‘dance committee headquarters’. Her finger ran up and down his neck; a light scrape of her nail followed. Wyatt moved toward her lips, stole a public kiss-a rule he’d never have broken if they’d had more time together.
“Get a room.” Stuart flipped his fist out for a bump.
Those three words had become his signature since their dinner. When they’d left, Wyatt had bled details while they careened down the curvy roads, and Stuart admitted obsessive admiration for Carter’s entertainment center.
“See you tomorrow, man. Five sharp.” Wyatt yelled to Stuart’s back as he, too, retreated into the sunshine.
“Bye, Mira!” A student he didn’t recognize waved, and right behind her, another did the same. Both ignored Wyatt, not that he minded.
He hadn’t realized how many people had come to know and admire the girl he’d fallen in love with. The pep rally had been both a precursor to the weekend’s festivities as well as her unofficial goodbye party.
“Hey, Wyatt,” Julie said. She stood close, holding her backpack with both hands.
“Julie.” Since his ridicule of her gossip-mongering weeks before, she’d avoided him-as well as most of the senior class. She’d skipped study hall and committees, and she left whenever he arrived. “What’s up?” Wyatt played it smooth, pretended not to notice how her hands shook.
“See you at the dance tomorrow?”
In the four years he’d known her, he’d learned to ignore half of what she said and to give the other portion a wide berth.
“You will, yes.” Mira’s voice infused with sweetness. “Will you be attending, Julie?”
Julie nodded.
“Wyatt and I would be delighted to have you join us if you’d like.” Mira said it as if Julie were more than a mere acquaintance.
Wyatt forced himself not to jerk at the offer; he’d never have made the same.
Julie made ridiculous accusations about her, yet Mira let it slide as if she didn’t care. She treated Julie with the respect and kindness most would only offer a good friend. He squeezed tighter, wishing she could stay.
Julie smiled. “It’s okay. Brady’s taking me.” She shifted her weight, twisting her bag’s handle.
“Is there something you want to say?” Wyatt asked.
