“Yes,” I say, my grin widening to something Joker-esque, “she’s the best.”
“It is,” I say, bobbing my head enthusiastically. “The house is always that clean.”
We drive for a while, Deiss tapping his thumb against the passenger door to the beat of the radio. It’s a pop station, playing songs Mia would never allow in his shop. In front of us, the sun is turning orange, splintering off into pinks as it seeps into the ground.
“Pull over,” Deiss says unexpectedly.
Surprised at Deiss’s tone, I swerve at the command, coming to a stop on the shoulder of the road without giving any thought to our safety. Loose gravel crunches under my tires.
Before I can ask what’s going on, Deiss slides his hand behind my neck, pulling me toward him. He covers my mouth with his, kissing me so soundly that I soon find my fingers in his hair, pulling him even closer. The day disappears, leaving only a quickly fogging windshield and the silk of his tongue tangling with mine. His scruff scrapes my chin in a way that feels deliciously savage. Too soon, he pulls back, leaving me panting as he presses his lips against my forehead.
“I did something wrong today,” he murmurs against the skin. “Tell me what it was so that I don’t do it again.”
I pull back in surprise, the spot where his lips were becoming immediately chilled in their absence. Cars zip past us, sending whooshing sounds through the windows.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say. “You were great.”
His eyes search mine. “But something upset you.”
There’s something about the way he states it so simply, recognizing the truth without demanding explanation, that makes my heart swell.
“She was lying to you,” I blurt out. “All of it was lies.”
“Okay,” he says.
His pause is an unspoken reassurance that he doesn’t need any details I’m not ready to share. It provokes an urge to spill everything. He’s entrusted me with his past, despite the fact that he clearly shouldn’t have. Can’t I do the same?
“I wasn’t raised in some charmed mansion where fathers were in abundance,” I say, speaking too quickly. “We couldn’t get any of them to stick around, and we were so poor we didn’t even have a home at one point. The kids at school made fun of me for being smelly because we had no place to shower, and it took years of making myself up to perfection to feel confident again. And even as I’m saying this, I want to die because it’s so much more information than anyone needs to know, but at least it’s real. And I wanted this day to be real, Deiss. I hate that I had the opportunity to share a part of myself with you and instead I let my mom paint over reality until nothing of me was even left.”
“You’re here now,” Deiss says, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “And I see you. I see you more clearly than I ever have. And I’ve never admired you more.”
I feel my face flush, and I avert my gaze. If I were a stronger person, I’d admit that it wasn’t just my mom who was concealing the truth. I’d admit what happened this morning with Simone and trust him to keep looking at me the way he is now. But I’m not a stronger person. I’m desperate to keep him for as long as possible.
“Admiration feels like an overreaction,” I say, waving it away. I don’t pull back, though. I lean closer instead, kissing him lightly. “I didn’t mean to make it sound all bad, you know. I mean, the homeless stuff was rough. But my mom and I were in it together. We were partners, as weird as that might sound. It’s always been us against the world.”
“That’s nice,” Deiss says. “I’ve always been close to my parents, too, but they were definitely more parents than friends. Maybe they figured, with all the cast members of Family Fun, I had enough adult friends and I’d be better off getting their guidance instead.”
“That makes sense.” A semi blows by, making the car rattle. I reach for the wheel. “We probably shouldn’t keep sitting here.”
Deiss nods, and I start down the shoulder, pulling into the road when an opportunity arises.
“I’m sorry about those kids in your school,” Deiss says a few minutes later. “That must’ve made a horrible situation feel even harder.”
“It really did.”
“Not to compare our situations, because I’m sure yours was infinitely more difficult, but it’s interesting that there was a period of time where you didn’t have a home and I couldn’t leave mine.”