The Day Before by Lisa Schroeder Read Free Book Online Page A

parks on a street,
near the beach,
in front of a row
of small houses,
and while I admire
the hazy moon,
he gathers everything
we need from the
trunk of his car.
    Apparently that
consists of a blanket,
a flashlight, a bottle of water,
and a hat, which he hands to me.
    His concern for
my well-being
makes my heart
pound out a rockin’ solo
inside my chest.
    We walk down to the beach,
and he lays out the blanket
near a hole in the sand
that contains a log
with glowing embers.
    I’m thinking about
me and him
and a fire
and a blanket.
And then I’m yelling,
“Wait!”
because maybe
I’m a tiny bit nervous
about me and him
and a fire
and a blanket.
He jumps back.
    “Sorry.
I thought maybe we could
throw the glitter first.”
    “Okay, then.
Let’s do it.”
    I take the bottle
of glitter and pour
some in my hand
and some in his.
    “Should we do something first?” I ask.
    “Yes. Close our mouths.”
    “No, I mean, make a wish or something?”
    “Okay.
Out loud or to ourselves?”
    “To ourselves.”
    So, quietly, we wish,
and when I think it’s been
sufficient wishing time,
I say, “Ready. Set.
No—stop, it’s too dark.
I have to get the flashlight.”
    I hold the flashlight
above my head and shine
it on him like a spotlight.
“You first, Cade.
Ready, set, go!”
    His hand flies up
and sparkles rain down on him.
He spins around,
pretending to be a ballerina
dancing in the glitter,
and it makes me laugh.
    “My turn.”
    He takes the flashlight
and places me in
the spotlight this time.
I toss the glitter
and hold my hands out,
trying to catch some
like a child tries to catch
snowflakes.
    For a moment
the air is pretty,
sparkly,
and full of wonder.
    But in a breath,
it’s over.
He flicks off the light,
leaving us in darkness.
    “Was it as thrilling as you thought?”
“It was over too soon,” I whisper.
    He cups my face
with both hands,
leans in,
eyes lingering a
sweet second
before his lips
are there on mine,
teasing,
playing,
tasting,
kissing.
    When he pulls away,
I’m breathless.
    He nuzzles my ear.
“Now that’s thrilling.”
    You got that right.

kissing
    Lips on lips,
feel the heat.
Silky soft,
honey sweet.
    Stay right here,
feed me more.
Lips on lips,
like never before.

wrap me up
    I shiver.
    He pulls away.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
    “A little.
Plus … you know.”
    “What?”
    “Um … your kisses?”
    He laughs,
pulls me down
onto the blanket
and wraps his arms
and legs around me.
    Perfect.
My kind of blanket.

burning bright
    After a while
Cade tells me
he’ll be right back.
    I’m now
officially freezing,
so I wrap the blanket
around me.
    He returns,
carrying twigs
and branches.
    Bending down,
he blows on
the embers,
making them glow
brighter until
eventually
tiny flames dance.
    I watch, amazed,
as he uses small twigs
at first, causing the flames
to reach higher and higher.
As the fire grows,
so does the size
of the firewood he uses.
    I think back
to Passages of the Deep,
how we envied
the confidence
we saw there.
I feel it here.
    Have we really changed
that much in twelve hours?
    Cade sits down.
Kisses me again.
And I know we have.

don’t you know?
    “What’d you wish for, angel?” he asks.
    Angel?
Is that my heart
f l u t t e r i n g
inside my chest?
    “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
    “If you tell me, maybe I can make sure it does.”
    I look at him.
He makes me so
happy.
Like playing my
favorite songs
in front of a
million people
    happy.
    So I tell him.
“I wished I could stay here with you.”

smoke and mirrors
    He doesn’t answer.
    The fire crackles and pops,
filling in the silence.
    Smoke blows toward us.
    “Smoke follows beauty,” he says.
    “Well, that wouldn’t be me.
You and your song, though.
That’s beautiful.”
    “You liked it?”
    I kiss him.
“Yeah. I liked it.”
    “Amber?”
    Oh, God.
The way he says it.
It’s like bad news is coming.
Don’t say it.
Don’t tell me I can’t stay.
    Don’t be like them,
thinking you know
what’s best for