After dinner, I’d stayed up late on the balcony while Neal played, this time airy and uplifting.
This is for you, he’d texted.
Was a boy seriously playing music just for me? Well, nosy neighbors thought so, but they also benefited because they sure did stay out and enjoyed with me. Applause ensued after every song. Neal even took a bow. He’d earned it, and I absolutely saw how music had become his outlet.
That night, I video chatted with Neal for another hour. In the dark. Completely alone. But for the first time in a long time, not really alone at all.
—
The next morning, my parents left early for the weekly grocery run. It was a whole event now. The carefully calculated and long list that had accumulated over the past seven days, the drive, the masks and hand sanitizer and wipes, the waiting in line outside the store, the social distancing protocol within the store, and of course the long checkout process, all the while praying they could find everything in one place. Not to mention having to wipe everything down once we unloaded groceries inside.
“Can you come outside?” Neal asked over the phone.
“For my shoe?”
“Yes.”
I frowned. “Does that mean you’re willing to give up the one thing that ensures we keep talking?”
“I hope we keep talking afterward, with or without a hostage. Meet you in front of the buildings in ten minutes? I just have to finish this sauce.”
“You cook?”
“Yep. I don’t have much else to do. Been watching YouTube cooking videos. But now my mom complains that she doesn’t have anything to do,” he said.
“What are you making?”
“Fettucine alfredo with veggies. Just missing bread, though. Store has been out. Thought of trying to make my own bread, but it looks hard. Plus the store is always out of flour, anyway. Guess everyone is baking,” he muttered in this sad, disappointed voice.
“We hoarded that stuff early, before quarantine was official.”
“Smart.”
I chewed on my lower lip and finally said, “See you in ten.”
“Awesome.”
I hurried to change into something cute and decided on a red tank top and navy blue shorts. I checked my reflection in the dresser mirror. Ew. Was that a pimple on my jaw and what was going on with this frizzy hair?
Agh! I couldn’t meet a boy for the first time looking like this! I whipped my hair into a top bun.
In the kitchen, I grabbed a Ziploc bag prepacked with Clorox wipes and stuffed it into my back pocket. In the corner of my eye, I noticed the loaf of bread that we’d made the other day. We hadn’t even cut into it, and it was the prettiest one by far. The X cut on top was pure pro-level, the crust crispy and golden brown, and the inside sure to be as chewy as its misshapen counterparts.
I carefully wrapped it in foil and then placed it in a bag when Lilly came out of the bathroom.
“Are you going outside?” she asked, her brown eyes wide and accusatory.
“Don’t tell.” I held a finger to my lips.
But Lilly wasn’t having it. She was one of those little formidable girls who was going to grow into a formidable woman. She didn’t have to say anything, just gave me a look that said, You’re not going without me or I’m telling.
I sighed and dropped my head back. “Fine. Be quick.”
She ran to our room and then skipped back to the foyer with a face mask on and a loaded water gun in hand. We slipped into flip-flops as I adjusted my own face mask. We headed out, through the long hallway and down the stairs.
The sun hit my legs as soon as we reached the sidewalk. With no one around, I heaved out a breath, closed my eyes, and just enjoyed the sun, the space, the outdoors.
A few moments later, Neal walked out of his apartment building and headed toward us, stopping several feet in front of me. He wore the heck out of knee-length cargo shorts and black T-shirt with a matching mask. Ugh! Boys following quarantine precautions and wearing face masks were so snackable.
His hair looked absolutely touchable in person. Too bad the mask hid his dimples. But he smiled, because his eyes crinkled, and OMG, who on this planet looked so adorable in a quarantine mask?
“You got my shoe?” I asked.
He tossed my sneaker a few times into the air before gingerly tossing it to me. I stepped aside and let it hit the ground.
“You missed,” he said.
“Um, no.” With the bag looped around my wrist, I whipped out a Clorox wipe and sanitized the shoe. Then left it on the sidewalk to air-dry for the recommended four minutes. Then cleaned my hands with sanitizer.
Neal rolled his eyes. But then he pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer and cleaned his hands, too. How was that not like the sexiest thing right now? A guy who took this whole thing as seriously as we did?
He took a few steps and Lilly immediately jumped beside me and aimed her water gun at Neal, pumping it a few times.
“Six feet apart!” she demanded.
He stopped, holding his hands up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“My little sister, Lilly,” I said off his look.
“She’s cute.”
Lilly frowned. “There’s nothing cute about social distancing.”
Neal’s shoulders shook, as if he were trying not to laugh. “You’re right,” he said. “This is very serious. Awesome job keeping the family safe.”
“You’re taller than I thought,” I said.
“You’re exactly what I thought,” he replied.
“Thanks for returning my shoe. I mean, for doing the right thing, which you could’ve done days ago.”
He shook his head. “But then you would’ve never given me your number.”
“Extortion.” I glanced at my sneaker and noticed a new scribble.
Neal had doodled a guitar with notes beside it in blue Sharpie and had signed his name at the bottom. Beneath the E and A of his name, he added an upward curve so that the letters
