But now that you’re on restriction, there’s nothing to do. I feel so lonely without you.
I drew some comics for you. Suze and Phoebe go to NYC.
Love,
Phoebe
Phoebe
Joel came over for dinner with me and Amma. I could tell she liked him. She leaned in to listen when he talked, and filled up his plate three times. Unobtrusively, asking questions to keep him chatting.
After dinner, we walked down to the arcade, a building in the main part of town that’s old and musty but still kind of fun. “Want to play pinball?” he asked, and I was glad to do whatever, but it turned out I was pretty good at this machine called Eight Ball. When Joel ran out of quarters, I cashed in another three dollars and we played for ages, winning replays until finally those quarters were done, too.
“You want something to eat?” Joel asked, pointing to a snack bar. “Candy bar or some fries or something?”
“No, thanks,” I said, thinking I didn’t want anything on my teeth in case he kissed me again.
“How about we split a Coke?”
“Okay.”
He ordered it and I looked around the room, wondering what it would be like if this was where I lived and I got to hang out here. Kids were playing air hockey and foosball, which I was good at because we had one in the game room at home and I’d been practicing. “You play?” I asked, pointing.
“Yeah.” He offered me the Coke and I took a sip, thinking that his lips had been right on that straw a second ago. His expression was quizzical when he tilted his head. “You do?”
“Yes. My dad taught me. He’s into all kinds of games.”
“Cool.” He eyed the table, where a row of quarters waited. “It looks like a lot of people are in line to play. Let’s go outside. If you won’t be too cold.”
“Nope.” I had my rain jacket over a sweater. Even if it poured, I’d be fine. Joel, on the other hand, only had a jean jacket. “You’re the one.”
He took my hand, right in front of everybody in the room, and led me toward the door. “I’ll be fine.”
I wondered if everyone saw it, that a boy liked me, that he was holding my hand. I felt every inch of it acutely, the flatness of his palm, his long fingers. We walked without speaking down the covered pavement by the shops. Rain poured overhead, and I could hear the ocean.
My blood seemed hot, and under my hair, my neck was burning up. I wondered if we would kiss again, if he wanted to. And just then, he looked over his shoulder and drew me into an alcove that led to the stormy beach. It was empty.
He tucked me up against the wall and, with his eyes dark and liquid, asked, “Can I kiss you again?”
I nodded, and he lowered his head and our lips locked. We kissed for a long time, just our lips, and then sometimes Joel kissed my neck, which turned me on so much that I even made a sound. When he was doing that, he slid his hand under my sweater until he touched bare skin and kept kissing my neck. Everything in my body felt alive, wild, free, and I put my hands under his shirt, too, opening my palms to feel his waist. It was hot and silky.
He found my lips again and pressed our bodies together. “You okay?”
I swallowed, already missing the taste of his mouth. “Yeah.”
He smiled. “Me too. You taste good.”
“So do you.”
I lifted up on my toes and kissed him again, pressing our chests together. He held his hands on my waist. “I think I need to walk you back home.”
“Okay.”
We held hands all the way, talking about color and light and things I never dreamed I’d talk about with a boy. At my grandma’s driveway, he kissed me again, lightly. “See you soon, Phoebe.”
I nodded, and watched him walk away, lean and loose limbed, and I thought I would never feel so alight again in my life.
In fact, it was a very long time.
Wednesday before Thanksgiving
Dear Suze,
Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. It was a busy day! I went to Seaside with my grandmother to get groceries and when we got back, I helped her cook. She says cooking is really important and that I need to learn to be good at it. Good food is important for your body, and serving it beautifully makes an ordinary day festive. That’s nice, right? My mom doesn’t care about dinner. We usually only all sit down together once in a while, and my dad doesn’t really cook, so he makes TV dinners when he’s the one who is home. I love it when I’m here and we eat together every night, even if it’s just soup and bread, which it is a lot.