Dirty Little Secrets

I did, and he squirted whipped cream right into my mouth. Laughing, I tried to shove it all in without making a huge mess, but I was sure I looked like a rabid dog. Josh tilted his head back and filled his mouth with whipped cream too. I watched him, suddenly conscious that we were alone in this dark, warm space.

“Come here.” He smiled at me. “You have whipped cream on your nose.” He leaned in and wiped the tip of my nose with his finger. Our heads were so close they were almost touching, and for once in my life I knew exactly what was going to happen next.

Josh tasted like whipped cream and chocolate and something else spicy and mysterious. Our lips touched tentatively at first, testing to see if we would pull away and then adding more pressure as neither of us did. Without saying a word, Josh jumped down from the counter and stood in front of me so he could reach up and run his fingers through my hair. For just a second, the sensation of his fingertips on my scalp was the only thing in the universe, and I had to open my eyes to regain my balance and sense of reality.

I reached out with my legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him closer to me as we explored each other’s lips. Tracing his ear with the tip of my finger, I could feel him shake against my body.

After a few minutes, Josh pulled away just slightly and took my face in his hands. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, sounding a little out of breath. He traced my bottom lip with his finger and then leaned in to kiss the corner of my mouth. “You’ve got the most beautiful lips, Lucy Lu.”

I laughed. I’d never thought of my lips as beautiful before—too big for my face, maybe, but hardly beautiful. This moment was so perfect I didn’t want to say anything. I just pulled him close to me again and buried my face in the side of his neck, inhaling his scent so I would remember it forever. I felt so safe here in the dark of the café. Right here and right now, I could be the mysterious girl that Josh liked with the beautiful lips and no curfew.

As I leaned into him, I could feel Teddy B. bunched up under my jacket. I jumped down from the counter to face Josh, keeping one hand on my side so Teddy B. wouldn’t slip out. I could explain away a lot of things, but having a homemade teddy bear under my jacket would really be pushing it.

I’m tall, but Josh had a good three inches on me as we stood facing each other in the dark. I eased my hands up his shirt and felt his back muscles moving under his warm skin. We were swaying slightly, like we were dancing to music only we could hear. I wanted to stay here and do this very same thing every day for the next hundred years.

“Can we do this again?” Josh said, like he was reading my mind. He put both arms around my back and kissed me behind one ear.

The sensation was so strong that I pulled back slightly. “Which part?” I asked.

“All of it,” he answered. “I have to work until noon—will you meet me after?”

I started to say yes, and then the reality of what would be happening by noon hit me. By then, Sara would have found out what had happened to Mom, and the police would have been there for hours. Probably they would still be trying to get her out of that mess—amid curious neighbors and television crews who would want to document the process for the late news. By noon tomorrow, I’d be Garbage Girl again, for sure, and I’d lose all of this . . . all of him.

Josh pulled back so he could see my face. “Is that a yes, or a no?” he asked. To his credit, he looked genuinely worried.

“I really want to,” I whispered. Even in the dim light, his face blurred as tears sprung into my eyes. I wanted it to be yes with all my heart. But I knew that by noon tomorrow it would be no. Josh reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and smiled at me, his dimples flashing and the warmth in his eyes making me feel safe and protected. I tried to make this one of those moments you can go back to forever—the feel of his skin under the palm of my hand, the throb of his heart beating at the base of his neck. I inhaled again to try to imprint his scent on my memory, but remembering these things was going to make them even harder to lose.

I tried to stay focused, but the image of the crowds in front of my house wouldn’t go away. I wondered if Josh would be there too—gaping through the open door at the piles of filth that would always be a part of me. Even a guy like him wouldn’t be able to get over my big secret. I didn’t know if I could stand to see the look of disgust in his eyes and know that I’d lost the safety of his arms forever.

A digital clock above the espresso machine said 4:23. If I could just be me, alone, without the weight of Mom and the house hanging around my neck and pulling me down, everything would be perfect. In the movies, this would be the scene where the screen would fade to black—the house would disappear, leaving me untouched and able to face my future with Josh. If only this were one of those movies.