Read Online You, Maybe by Rachel Vail - Free Book Online Page A

ME. He has seen my thighs, he has seen my hair. He not only chose me, he pursued me. He sang “The Farmer in the Dell” to me, for goodness’ sake. Maybe Carson Gold, ironically, actually is someone deep and open-minded, creative and individualistic, and he’s just been judged shallow and predictable by all of us because of how beautiful he looks. Maybe he recognized me immediately as his kindred spirit, and he sensed that I am the one who can set that part of him free. Maybe we really are meant for each other. As weird as that would be.
    I closed my eyes and buried my nose in the rose Carson had given me, in its little glass vase on my bathroom counter. Mmm. It still smelled rosy, despite turning slightly black at the petals’ edges. My rose.
    The doorbell rang. Dad said, “I’ll get it!”
    “No!” I almost tripped over the orthotic shoes my father had left outside the bathroom door for me to wear, running to answer it. Sorry, Dad. Not wearing old lady shoes on my first high school date; too bad. I stomped into my black work boots and whipped open the door for my boyfriend.

Thirteen
    FRANKIE AND MARGO were in the backseat. I sat up front, next to Carson. He leaned over and kissed me on the lips before he turned the car on.
    On the way to the movies, I sang along with the radio, but quieter than when it’s just me and Carson. Margo leaned forward and said something to Carson, something that sounded like “Remember the nuts?” He nodded and smiled, and in the back Frankie started laughing. Since I had no idea what that meant I just kept singing, a little softer. I couldn’t help wondering how many inside jokes there were going to be that I could not possibly understand, as the new girl, and also how many other girls Frankie and Margo have met tucked under Carson’s big arm. It made me feel anonymous and peculiar at the same time.
    Frankie pulled Margo back toward him and they started making out. I know because I turned around to smile gamely, to show I wasn’t intimidated by her obnoxious assertion of prior knowledge. His hand was touching her cheek as he kissed her mouth, and her hand was against his jacket. Her long reddish-brown hair was tucked behind her ear, which had a small gold hoop in it. No makeup, but then she didn’t need any; she was just naturally beautiful. So was Frankie, in a different way: he was about the same height as Margo, shorter than Carson, and his black hair curled up where it hit his collar. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t see the pupils. Maybe it’s because I was still wondering what he had said about me to Carson, but I felt like there was something a little subversive about him, a little more dark and risky than either Carson or Margo, who were both bright sunlight.
    And me? How did I fit into this scene? I took a pen out of my back pocket and wrote OK on the palm of my hand, to remind myself that I was fine, low stress, this was just a night among thousands in my life; if it sucked completely, I’d have a funny story to tell Michael tomorrow for his birthday, during a bathroom break.
    We pulled into the parking lot down the hill from the movie theater. I turned around again and said to the kissing couple, “So! You psyched for the movie? Who wants popcorn?”
    They pulled their mouths out of each other’s and looked at me. Carson yanked up the emergency brake. “I do,” he said. When we all got out of the car, he threw his arm across my shoulder. I fit perfectly. It felt good in there. We walked up the hill ahead of Margo and Frankie.
    “Your money’s no good here,” Carson told me, pushing my wallet away and paying for my movie ticket himself.
    “Let’s go get popcorn,” Margo suggested to me.
    I followed her over there.
    “Larges?” she asked.
    “Extra larges,” I said and, to my surprise, she grinned.
    “Yeah.” She turned to the guy behind the counter. “Two extra larges.”
    “Two?” he asked her. “You sure? They’re very big.”
    “We’re big