ILY.
I Love You.
I held the charm in my hand, tracing the letters with my finger. I smiled, thinking of Toby and all those times he’d teased me about the abbreviations. But maybe he sort of liked them. Deep down. Or maybe he just liked me.
I reached for my phone and started to call him, but then—I couldn’t. I put the phone down and fell back on my bed with a sigh. I was too scared to call him. What would I say? Hey, I finally told the truth about us after I broke your heart. Want to forgive me now? It didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem like enough.
I attached the charms to the chain, one by one, remembering each time I’d said the abbreviation in front of him. Then I just started remembering us, reliving the past few weeks in my head. Talking about flat tires and third wheels at that first party. Seeing the French film at Cindependent. My clumsy attempts to be sexy in his room. Every memory made me smile or laugh or blush.
I slid the ILY on last.
I liked him so much. So much that it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and I missed him. Apologizing over the phone wasn’t enough. I needed to see him.
But I didn’t see Toby. Not for several days. Before, it seemed like I ran into him everywhere I went, but now it was the opposite. He was nowhere to be seen. Or maybe he was avoiding me.
“Just go over there,” B said a few days after Christmas. She was still a little annoyed with me for keeping the whole thing a secret, but she’d mostly gotten over it. Now she was annoyed at me for other reasons. “I’m getting so sick of you whining about this. If you want to see him, go to his house.”
“I’m too scared,” I admitted. “What if he’s not there and his parents know what happened and they hate me?”
“Oh my God,” B groaned.
“I’m serious, B,” I said. “Last time I saw him he was really upset with me. I don’t want to just go over there and… I don’t know. It needs to be something bigger. I need to show him how I feel.”
“You need a grand gesture?” B asked, laughing.
“Yes!”
“Uh… I was kidding. But okay.”
“Kidding about what?” Jess asked as she walked into Bianca’s bedroom. “Your dad let me in. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” B said. “And you’re just in time. Casey needs to plan a big romantic gesture for Toby.”
“Oh, fun!” Jess exclaimed, clapping her hands together. I guess B had already filled her in about the whole Toby situation. “I love big romantic gestures. Do you know where you want to do it yet? Or when?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t really—”
“What about New Year’s Eve?” she suggested. “At the Nest. There’s going to be a big party, and I bet he’ll be there. Everybody will. And what’s more romantic than the Nest?”
“A lot of things,” B muttered.
“Jess, that’s kind of perfect,” I said. I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist, the tiny gold letters catching the light. “New Year’s Eve… I think I have an idea. But I need some paint.”
***
“Where is he?” I asked. “Jeanine said he’d be here.”
“I’m sure he’s coming,” Jess said. “Now stop biting your nails. I just painted them.”
“Sorry. I’m just really nervous.”
“I know.” She gave me a one-armed hug. “You look gorgeous, though.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey.” B slipped into the booth across from us, holding a glass of Cherry Coke, her usual. “He’s here. I just saw his car pull up outside.”
“OMG.” I took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes nothing.”
“Don’t forget your sign,” Jess said, pulling the large piece of cardboard from under the table and handing it to me.
I swallowed. Hard. “Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it,” B said. “Or the sign.”
“I like the sign,” Jess said.
“It’s cheesy.”
“It’s sweet!”
“Guys!” I interrupted. “I’m using the sign. Just, please, say good luck or break a leg or something?”
“Good luck,” Jess said.
“Break a leg,” B offered.
“Thank you.”
I felt myself shaking as I lugged my cardboard sign out to the middle of the dance floor, weaving between grinding couples and shimmying singles. I could feel everyone staring at me, giving me questioning, confused looks. And they hadn’t seen anything yet.
“OMG, OMG, OMG,” I whispered. “Here goes nothing.” And I picked the sign up and held it over my head.
My arms shook as I watched the door, waiting for Toby to walk inside. All around me I saw people’s lips moving, mouthing the letters on the sign: ILTT. Then blank looks before they turned and whispered to their friends. I could hear a few of them.
“What is she doing?”
“What does that mean?”
“Didn’t she used to be a cheerleader or something?”
I bit my lip and just kept watching the door.
Finally, he walked inside. I felt my heart speed up as my whole body went into panic mode. What if he was still upset? What if this wasn’t enough? What if he thought I was a cheesy idiot and was embarrassed to be seen with me? Every possible negative thought ran through my head as I watched Toby glance around the room, looking for an empty table, and then…
Then he saw me.
For a second it felt like everything had frozen. People were still dancing. The music was still playing. But neither Toby nor I moved. He was looking at me—at the huge sign over my head—and standing so still he could have been made of stone. And maybe I was, too, because a second later I had to remind myself to breathe.
Finally, he started walking toward me. It seemed to take him forever to make his way through the crowd, but eventually he was there, in front of me, and I… I had no idea. Luckily, he spoke first.
“ILTT,” he said.
“Yeah.” I lowered the sign, holding it at waist level. “ILTT.”
“And that means…?”
“I like Toby Tucker,” I said. “Or… I love Toby Tucker, maybe. I don’t know.” My face was on fire, so I turned away, unable to look him in the eyes. I was so embarrassed and nervous that I just wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.
It took him a second to say anything, which just made it that much worse. But then I felt a hand next to mine as Toby reached out and gripped the top of the sign. I took a chance and looked at him. He was smiling.
“You know,” he said. “I think that’s an abbreviation I can get behind.”
A smile broke across my face and I laughed, so happy and relieved. He laughed, too. I dropped the sign and wrapped my arms around him. And his were around me. And I don’t think either of us wanted to let go. I pulled back a little, just enough to kiss him. It wasn’t a sloppy, grope-y, eww-not-in-public kiss. It was simple and sweet, and I wanted it to last forever.
“Save some for midnight!”
Reluctantly, Toby and I pulled apart. Wesley was walking through the crowd, carrying a couple cans of soda. He waved as he passed us, then headed toward the booth where I’d left B and Jess.
“So,” Toby said. “He knows. Does that mean…?”
“Bianca knows. And she’s actually okay with it. I should’ve told her sooner. I shouldn’t have kept you a secret. I’m sorry.” I let out a breath. “But now she knows. Everybody knows.”
“I suppose they do,” he said. “Thanks to your sign. I wasn’t expecting that, by the way.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen the back!” I bent down to pick up the cardboard. “I have another abbreviation you might like.” I flipped it over and held it up to my chest so he could see the other side.
“TTFP,” he read.
“Yep. Toby Tucker For President. I figure I’ll be making a lot of these in twenty years or so. I should get started now.”
He chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But that’s why you like me, right?”
“Perhaps.” He smiled and tapped the sign. “I need one that says ILCB, I guess.”
“I’ll get on that.” I leaned forward and kissed him again. “Now, come on. Everyone at the booth is totally staring at us and waiting to know what happened.” I tucked the sign under my arm and grabbed his hand, and we made our way to the table where my friends were waiting.