I can tell Peter is embarrassed, the way he rushes to say, “Okay, okay, I got it. Let’s just change the
subject.” Under his breath he mutters, “I didn’t even want to talk about it in the first place.”
It’s sweet that he’s embarrassed. I didn’t think he would be, with all his experience. I tug on his
sweater sleeve. “At some point, when I’m ready, if I’m ready, I’ll let you know.” And then I pull him
toward me and press my lips against his softly. His mouth opens, and so does mine, and I think, I
could kiss this boy for hours.
Mid-kiss, he says, “Wait, so we’re never having sex? Like ever?”
“I didn’t say never. But not now. I mean, not until I’m really, really sure. Okay?”
He lets out a laugh. “Sure. You’re the one driving this bus. You have been from the start. I’m still
catching up.” He snuggles closer and sniffs my hair. “What’s this new shampoo you’re wearing?”
“I stole it from Margot. It’s juicy pear. Nice, right?”
“It’s all right, I guess. But can you go back to the one you used to wear? The coconut one? I love
the smell of that one.” A dreamy look crosses his face, like evening fog settling over a city.
“If I feel like it,” I say, which makes him pout. I’m already thinking I should buy a bottle of the
coconut hair mask, too, but I like to keep him on his toes. Like he said, I’m the one driving this bus.
Peter pulls me against him so he’s curved around my back like shelter. I let my head rest on his
shoulder, rest my arms on his kneecaps. This is nice. This is cozy. Just me and him, just for a while,
apart from the rest of the world.
We’re sitting there like that when suddenly I remember something, an important something. The time
capsule. John Ambrose McClaren’s grandmother gave it to him for his birthday in seventh grade.
He’d asked for a video game, but the time capsule was what he got. He said he was going to throw it
away, but then he thought one of us girls might want it. I said I wanted it, and then Genevieve said she
wanted it, so of course Chris chimed in too. And then I had the idea to bury it right there in the
Pearces’ backyard under the tree house. I got really excited and said everybody needed to put in
something that they had on them at that very moment. I said we should come back the day we graduate
from high school and open it up and reminisce.
“Do you remember that time capsule we buried?” I ask him.
“Oh, yeah! McClaren’s. Let’s dig it up!”
“We can’t open it without everybody else,” I say. “Remember, we were going to do it after high
school graduation?” This was when I still thought we’d all be friends. “You, me, John, Trevor, Chris,
Allie.” I don’t say Genevieve’s name.
Peter doesn’t appear to notice. “All right, then we’ll wait. Whatever my girl wants.”