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again. “Leaveyourmessage!”

“Again,” he ordered.

“No, I can’t.” Marianne shook her head and sat upright. “I’m too lame.”

Patrick turned and slung his arm over the back of the middle seat. “Try again. You’re messing up on purpose.”

“Am not.” Marianne cleared her throat and set the phone to record again. “This is...” She hit the one. “Oh, I can’t do it.”

He shook his head. “Of course you can.” He reached over and hit the button to record.

“What do I say?” she whispered.

“This is Patrick Devlin’s phone...”

Marianne cleared her throat and threw herself into robot-mode. “This is Patrick Devlin’s phone. Leave your message, and he will call you back.”

Patrick reached over, hit the end button, and took the phone from her. “Perfect.”

“No, I was late. It had our voices on it.”

Patrick put the phone down on the seat and shook his head. It was completely silent in the truck now. He leaned forward a little and brushed Marianne’s bangs to the side with his hand. “It was perfect,” he whispered.

Marianne swallowed her gum because she didn’t know what else to do. He was looking at her way too intensely. “It should be your voice on there,” she whispered back.

He continued to brush through her hair with his fingers. “I like yours better.”

“You’re crazy.” Marianne couldn’t meet his gaze anymore and looked down. Their knees were almost touching. She could hear her own breathing in the still air of the truck cab.

Patrick ran his fingers slowly down her cheek and cupped her chin. “Marianne...”

He gently lifted up on her chin, and she met his eyes again, cigar-colored eyes reflecting the bluish light from the street lamp. She wanted to reach up and touch his face. She wanted to smile at him. She wanted to tell him how insane he was to look at her the way he was. She wanted to do a lot of things, but she didn’t do anything at all.

Patrick continued to stare at her. He spoke even more softly than before, “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Marianne shook her head slightly against his hand holding her chin. He brushed his thumb lightly along her bottom lip. She closed her eyes.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Marianne spun around in shock to look at the window behind her. Danielle’s muffled voice came through the glass. “No funny business!” She popped open the door and stuck her head in. “Just kidding. Did you guys...” Danielle stared past Marianne and her smile faded immediately. “Whoops.”

Silence.

Marianne looked down; she couldn’t make herself look back at Patrick. She realized that her fingernails were digging painfully into her palms and that her pulse was pounding in her ears. Oh, man.

Marianne grabbed her purse and climbed out through the open door. She couldn’t decide if she was irritated or thankful for the interruption. Patrick had seemed very close to kissing her. She wasn’t sure if he was, though, because no boy had ever kissed her before. Then she remembered that she probably had puke-mouth and became extremely thankful.

Danielle shut the door behind Marianne and bit her knuckle. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were getting it on in there.”

Marianne hit her hard in the ribs. “We were not,” she whispered. She heard Patrick’s door close. “Does my mom still have Monkey?” she said louder.

“Yeah.” Danielle looked at Patrick in abject fear as he walked over. “I was going to see if you guys could get him for me. I didn’t want to get James and Sophie sick or anything...” She trailed off into silence.

“Of course,” said Patrick. “Do you need the crib, too?”

Danielle shook her head. “Nuh-uh.”

“Okay,” he said. He winked at his sister and she relaxed immediately. “Need me to go to the store, or anything? I think we’re out of milk.”

Danielle nodded. “That’d be great.”

Patrick slid his hand down Marianne’s arm and took her hand. “Ready?”

Marianne nodded, but still couldn’t look at his face. They trudged across the lawn to her house. Marianne had to walk on her toes so that her heels wouldn’t sink into the freshly watered grass.

“Patrick,” whined Danielle from her driveway. “Will you pick up a pizza, too? I’m starving!”

He laughed quietly and shouted, “No problem!”

“No olives,” she yelled back, as Marianne opened the front door.

Dad was sitting on the couch watching a game show, and Mom was on the floor with the baby. They had out all the pots and pans and were busy banging on them with spoons and whisks. Marianne stopped just inside the living room. “We’re back.”

“Hi, honey,” said Mom. “Did you have fun?”

She nodded. Patrick stayed behind Marianne, which was just fine with her. He wouldn’t be able to read the nervousness on her face that way.

“Just in time,” said Dad, not looking away from the TV. “Pop quiz, Mary.” Dad loved to quiz people when he was watching game shows.

“No thanks,” she said.

“Shakespeare.” He didn’t care whether she wanted to play or not. “Which character utters these famous last words, ‘Thus with a kiss I die?’”

A kissing question? Really? Marianne scowled at Dad. “As if I...”

“Romeo,” Patrick whispered in her ear.

Marianne jumped at the nearness of his voice. “Hamlet,” she blurted out.

Dad still didn’t look at her. “Nope. You lose. Again.”

Patrick pinched her arm, and she turned around. “I gave you the answer,” he whispered.

“I know. But if I start winning, he’ll make me play all the time.”

“I heard that,” said Dad.

Patrick smiled at Dad and then turned to Mom. “Danielle wants me to bring Monkey home now.”

Monkey must have been desperate to get home because he let Patrick pick him up. Marianne walked them to the door. Patrick carried the baby down the steps, but she stayed on the porch.

Marianne waved at him and said, “Good night,” just as he turned around to face her. Gah. Just half a second earlier, and Good night wouldn’t have sounded so much like Get out. Patrick had looked like he wanted to chat more, but her bad timing had shut him down. Marianne scratched her eyebrow in frustration. She

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