The house was still dark inside, except for one upstairs light. He hated this. He hated having to pick up Galadriel, when Whitney was the one he wanted to see. But he'd have to dump Galadriel at school before he went to Whitney's.
To his relief, he saw Galadriel through a big window come bouncing around the corner, past a dining room. She smiled as she jogged to the car, pulled the door open, and hopped in.
"Hi, Bron," she said. Her teeth were white, her breath smelled minty.
"Hi," he said.
He backed out, then went up Main Street. He wasn't sure what to say to Galadriel. Did she remember anything that had happened last night?
He turned off by the church, and crossed the valley. They had gone perhaps a mile up the road and were just entering the juniper forest, where dark green trees marched side by side, filling the air with their bitter scent, when Galadriel nodded toward a little gravel road ahead. "Will you turn on that road, please?"
He wondered what she was up to. Was she going to try to neck, or seduce him again?
If she does, he wondered, should I let her this time?
He did as she asked, and followed the gravel road for a quarter of a mile, before he hit a turnout. She jutted her chin. "Park here."
He pulled the car to a stop, turned off the engine, but kept the radio on. An old Dave Matthews Band song was playing, "Satellite." She turned it off and faced him.
"I want a do over," she said.
"What?" Bron asked. In his world, life wasn't normally that simple. If you made a mistake, you were stuck with it. But he wondered. His life had changed last night.
"I want a do over," she said. "I acted like a jerk the other day, and I'm begging you to forgive me."
She bit her dainty lip and sat in her seat, hands in her lap. She looked poised at a glance, but in reality she was clutching her legs nervously. Her face was like stone, jaw set.
Her eyes had a pleading look, and he realized that with a word or two, he had the power to make her cry.
"There's nothing to forgive," he said, thinking that would end the conversation.
"Yes, there is," she whispered. She searched for the words to explain. "The other day, you and I talked. I took one look at you, and I sort of went crazy. I thought you were the cutest guy I'd ever seen, and I threw myself at you in a way that I've never done before. Now I feel really icky, really embarrassed."
Bron nodded. He didn't quite know what to say.
"When you didn't come out to the pond," Galadriel continued, "you don't know how that made me feel. I thought that you hated me, that I disgusted you. I thought that you would never want to see me again, and I curled up and wanted to die."
Bron couldn't understand how she could get it so wrong. "I didn't hate you," he said. "I hardly knew you. Why would you care what I think?"
"I know. It was crazy. It was the middle of the night, and I came and waited at your door. It was like my mind closed down, like I walked inside this dark cave inside my head, and got lost. I went to the pond, determined to wait until you came, and I just felt like, like something had sucked my insides out.
"I can't explain it," she said. "I just began to feel so hopeless. That's not like me. I mean, look at me." Bron had been staring down at her hands, but now his gaze flicked up to her eyes. She was startlingly beautiful, so beautiful that he felt lucky to be here with her. "Everyone tells me that I'm pretty. When I go to the store, clerks fall all over themselves trying to help me. Any time I do something wrong, my parents and teachers give me a pass. I don't think I could get arrested in this town if I shot the mayor. But you looked at me, and you saw right through me. You saw how petty I really was."
"I saw how dangerous you could be," Bron corrected.
Galadriel said softly, "When you told me that you were saving yourself for the girl of your dreams? Oh, man, you don't know how that made me feel! I kept thinking, I wish I knew a boy who was like you, someone who would fall in love with me before we ever met, someone who would remain true no matter what kind of bimbo threw herself at him."
Bron wanted to apologize, but how could he? Galadriel seemed to have gotten it. She was agreeing with him.
She flipped her hair back a little, and tears glistened in her eyes. She sniffed. "When I woke up in the hospital, you were there. You were touching my face, cradling it in your hands."
Bron's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't known that she had awakened.
"What were you doing to me?" she asked. "It felt—it felt so wonderful! I felt like ... like you were inside me, walking around in my heart, in my head, and they were rooms, dark and corrupt, and you were turning on all of the lights. I felt my heart start jumping.... What were you doing to me?"
A tear slid down Galadriel's cheek.
Bron had to make up a lie to cover himself. He said the first thing that came to his mind. "Just holding you. I whispered in your ear when you were asleep, and begged you to wake up. I didn't know if you could hear me."
She nodded thoughtfully, and said, "I saw that white rose that you brought. My mother said that a white rose stands for love, and for purity."
Bron hadn't meant anything by it, but he didn't dare tell her that now.
"When I saw that," she said, "I realized that that was what I wanted in life: love that was pure." She raised a hand in a gesture of warning. "I know, I know that you aren't in love with me. We hardly know each other. But I woke up, and I realized that maybe if I tried harder, maybe if I worked at being a better person, someone somewhere will find me worthy of love."
"I think," Bron said, "that you have to learn to be comfortable with yourself for that to happen. I knew a bishop once at the Mormon Church. He said that once you love yourself and treat yourself with respect, others will do the same."
Galadriel nodded thoughtfully. "That's what I've decided to do. Olivia once tried to get me to come to her school. To tell the truth, the idea scared me to death. I mean, there are a lot of talented people there, and I don't know if I'll fit in, or if they'll all think I'm just a fake."
"Join the club," Bron said.
"So I've decided to change. I'm going to try to do something with my life. I don't know if it will work or not, but at least if I go down in flames, well, I'll know that I tried."
"Flames are nice," Bron said. "Not that I like seeing a girl go down in flames. It's just that, well, not trying, that's completely tragic."
Galadriel really did seem to be changing. There was a confidence in her tone, an assertiveness that he hadn't seen before. A few nights ago, she'd been so pliant. He hadn't realized it until now, but every little gesture had been frightened. She'd sat with her shoulders slightly hunched, her expression guarded, as if with every moment, she was waiting for him to make a move, to let her know what he wanted. Now, she seemed to have made a choice, and she was unleashing herself on the world.
"The thing is," Galadriel said, "I wanted you to know something. I want you to know that I'm not stalking you or anything."
Bron let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and wiped his forehead. Galadriel laughed. With the tears still in her eyes, they seemed to dance with merriment. "I was really worried," Bron admitted.
"Don't be," Galadriel said. "I'm not stalking you, for now. That doesn't mean that I'm not attracted to you. I'm really attracted. But I promise not to stalk."
"All right," Bron said. "I'm officially at ease."
Galadriel fidgeted with her hands nervously and said in a shy voice, "I ... uh ... just wanted to thank you."
She leaned forward, took Bron's chin in her palm, and kissed him on the lips. It was more than a friendly kiss. She let it linger. Her breath smelled of mint, and he realized that she had planned this. Her lips were soft and sensual. She pulled away. He sat, stunned.