Page 36 of From Me to You

“I have a new song I wrote for someone very special in my life,” Jay said as he started to strum the first few chords. “It’s calledBrown-Eyed Girl.” He started to sing in his alluringly beautiful voice, locking his blues on me.

“OMG, he is singing about you.” Katy and Lily jumped up and down beside me.

Oh, God, it was about me, the song. My eyes widened, and I could feel my heart cartwheeling out of my chest. He was singing a song that he wrote for me. I didn’t think it was possible, but my love for him grew stronger. He looked at me the whole time he played the song. I stood there as the world around me turned to dust. It was just him and me. Just us.

That night I ended up in Jay’s arms, naked, my skin inked with his love marks, and my red lipstick all over his. It was glorious. I was completely and irrevocably enamored by him.

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“Did she put the eggs before the sugar or after the sugar?” Aunty M asked, waving the spoon in her hand.

“After the sugar, Aunty M,” I said. If there was one thing that Aunty M wasn’t good at, it was cooking and baking. She was only good at making her salads and protein shakes that tasted like cardboard but were supposed to be good for you. I never attempted to try them after I took a sip of her healthy version of a chocolate milkshake.

I watched as she attempted to make Grandma’s almond honey cake. I was glad I learned everything I could from Grandma because her cooking was exceptional. God, I missed her.

“Okay,” she mumbled, reading the handwritten recipe on the counter.

I sat on the table facing her with a mug of my favorite black coffee.

“How is everything at school, honey?”

“Everything is great. Honestly, most classes are a bit boring except for creative writing, but my grades are still up.” I shrugged. I spent most of my class daydreaming about Jay while doodling EM hearts EJ, and writing poems about our love. I would be a senior in a couple of months, so if I wanted to get into Yale, I had to start getting serious soon.

“That’s okay, you only get to be a teenager once,” she replied. “You have a boyfriend now— you should enjoy yourself. But remember what I told you.” She gave me a pointed look.

Ah, she was never going to let me get away with how important it was to practice safe sex. Which my boyfriend and I were currently not having. It took almost fourteen months for him to even see me naked, so sex was going to be a lot longer. I wanted him, though. But he was adamant about taking things slow and I gave in. I too wanted to savor every moment we had together.

My boyfriend.I smiled to myself as I thought of my boyfriend, whom I was currently waiting for. It was early on a Saturday morning, and he was taking me out. He had a rare day off from his gigs, which was going on full force now that it was spring. He was very vague about where we were going. All he said was to wear the red dress and be ready at nine.

I couldn’t believe he remembered that dress from when we unpacked all those months ago. I paired my dress with black ballet-style flats and tied my hair in a white ribbon so it looked flattering on the wavy curls that Aunty M helped me achieve. I was sad to not spend her day off with her, but she assured me that she was going to make Grandma’s cake and lay on the couch the whole day.

Just then, a knock on the door told me that Jay was there. “That must be Jay,” I said as I got up to open the door for him.

And he stole my breath away, standing on my doorstep wearing a dark gray dress shirt, dark blue Levi’s, and blackcombat boots. He had traded his usual rings and bracelets for a cleaner look. His hair was slicked back with what I assumed to be some sort of gel, revealing his beautiful face. In all my time with him, I had never seen him wear anything other than black. I didn’t even know he owned a gray shirt.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, greeting me with a hug. His clean, woodsy scent enveloped me. It felt like home.

“Thanks, so do you. You are so handsome,” I mumbled against his shirt.

He grinned, pulling away. “These are for you,” he said, handing me a bouquet of sweet-smelling pink peonies, which he found out were my favorite flowers during one of our hangouts.

God, they must be expensive. Jay spent too much money on me—money he didn’t have. He barely got by, putting all the extra cash into the band.

“Thank you. They are beautiful,” I said, taking them. “I will go put them away.” I rushed to the kitchen.

We were soon cruising down the highway, headed toward the city. I asked him multiple times to tell me where we were going, but he just smiled, telling me it was a surprise. I sighed. How gorgeous was this man? His left hand was on the steering wheel, while his other held mine in his lap. Like usual.

“Are you still not going to be telling me where are we going?” I whined.

“Patience, sweetheart. Patience. You will know in good time.” He kissed my hand, bringing it to his lips.

“I am the least patient person I know. I cannot do this. My head is breaking. I have to know now,” I complained.

He laughed, shaking his head. He was so not going to tell me.

An hour later, we ended up in Seattle. Jay drove through the city, reaching the pier. I peered through the window, taking in the beautiful waterfront, the navy blue ocean shining in the bright sunlight. Soon, Jay parked the car near a quaintlittle restaurant overlooking the water. He held my hand as we climbed up the stairs.

The inside of the restaurant was like something out of a fairytale. The vintage wallpaper was elaborate, with flowers of all different colors. Purples. Pinks. And blues. The white marbled floor gleamed from the yellow light cast from the low-hung chandeliers embellished with gold details. The tables and chairs were all made of dark wood, matching the aesthetic. It was all so beautiful.