With this, a genuine smile tugged on Poppy’s lips. “Forever always,” she eventually whispered in reply.
I dropped my forehead to rest against hers. My hands cupped her cheeks, and I assured her, “I want you and only you. I have done since I was five years old and you shook my hand. No other girl will change that.”
“Yeah?” Poppy asked, but I could hear the humor back in her sweet voice.
“Ja,” I replied in Norwegian, hearing the sweet sound of her giggle wash into my ears. She loved it when I spoke to her in my native language. I kissed her forehead, then stepped back to take hold of her hands. “Your mama and daddy took the girls home; they told me to tell you.”
She nodded her head, then looked up at me, nervously. “What did you think of tonight?”
I rolled my eyes and crinkled my nose. “Terrible, as always,” I said dryly.
Poppy laughed and hit my arm. “Rune Kristiansen! Don’t be so mean!” she scolded.
“Fine,” I said, pretending to be annoyed. I slammed her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her back, trapping her against me. She squealed when I began kissing up and down her cheek, keeping her arms locked by her side. I dropped my lips to her neck and caught her breath hitch, all laughter forgotten.
I moved my mouth up until I tugged on her earlobe with my teeth. “You were amazing,” I whispered softly. “As always. You were perfect up there. You owned that stage. You owned everyone in that room.”
“Rune,” she murmured. I heard the happy tone in her voice.
I pulled back, still not unlocking her arms. “I’m never more proud of you than when I see you up on that stage,” I confessed.
Poppy blushed. “Rune,” she said shyly, but I ducked my head to keep eye contact when she tried to pull away. “Carnegie Hall, remember. One day I’ll be watching you perform at Carnegie Hall.”
Poppy managed to free one of her hands and softly swatted my arm. “You flatter me.”
I shook my head. “Never. I only ever say the truth.”
Poppy pressed her lips to mine, and I felt her kiss all the way to my toes. When she drew back, I released her and threaded our fingers together.
“We heading out to the field?” Poppy asked as I began leading her away across the parking lot, holding her just that little bit closer as we passed the group of freshman girls.
“I’d prefer to be alone with you,” I said.
“Jorie asked if we’d go. Everyone is there.” Poppy looked up at me. By the twitch of her lips, I knew I was scowling. “It’s Friday night, Rune. We’re fifteen, and you’ve just spent most of the night watching me play the cello. We have ninety minutes left until curfew; we should actually see our friends like normal teenagers.”
“Fine,” I submitted and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. Leaning down, I placed my mouth at her ear and said, “But I get you to myself tomorrow.”
Poppy put her arm around my waist and gripped me tightly. “I promise.”
We heard the girls behind us mention my name. I sighed in frustration when Poppy briefly tensed.
“It’s because you’re different, Rune,” Poppy said, without looking up. “You’re artsy, into photography. You wear dark clothes.” She laughed and shook her head. I pushed my hair back from my face, and Poppy pointed up. “But mainly it’s because of that.”
I frowned. “Because of what?”
She reached up and pulled on a strand of my long hair. “When you do that. When you push your hair back like you do.” I raised an eyebrow, bemused. Poppy shrugged. “It’s kinda irresistible.”
“Ja?” I asked, before stopping to stand in front of Poppy, raking my hair back in exaggeration until she laughed. “Irresistible, huh? To you, too?”
Poppy giggled and pulled my hand from my hair to wrap around hers. As we followed the pathway to the field—a patch of the park where the kids from our school hung out at night—Poppy said, “It doesn’t really bother me that other girls look at you, Rune. I know how you feel about me, because it’s the exact way I feel about you.” Poppy sucked in her bottom lip. I knew it meant she was nervous, but I didn’t know why, until she said, “The only girl that bothers me is Avery. Because she’s wanted you for so long and I’m pretty sure she’d do anything to make you hers.”
I shook my head. I didn’t even like Avery, but because she was in our group of friends, she was always around. All my friends liked her; they all thought she was the prettiest thing around. But I never saw it, and I hated how she was toward me. Hated how she made Poppy feel.
“She’s nothing, Poppymin,” I reassured her. “Nothing.”
Poppy curled into my chest and we turned right, toward our friends. I held Poppy tighter the closer we got. Avery sat up as we approached.
Turning my head toward Poppy, I repeated, “Nothing.”
Poppy’s hand gripped my shirt, telling me she’d heard. Her best friend Jorie jumped to her feet.
“Poppy!” Jorie called excitedly, coming over to pull Poppy into her arms. I liked Jorie. She was ditzy, rarely thought before she spoke, but she loved Poppy and Poppy loved her. She was one of the only people in this small town who found Poppy’s quirkiness endearing and not just weird.
“How are you, sweets?” Jorie asked and stepped back. She looked at Poppy’s black performance dress. “You look beautiful! So damn cute!”
Poppy bowed her head in thanks. I took hold of her hand again. I guided us around the small fire that they’d lit in the fire pit and sat down. I leaned back against a log bench, pulling Poppy down to sit between my legs. She flashed me smile as she sat down with me, pressing her back against my chest and tucking her head against my neck.
“So, Pops, how’d it go?” Judson, my best friend, asked from across the fire. My other close friend, Deacon, was sitting beside him. He tipped his chin in greeting, his girlfriend, Ruby, throwing us a small wave too.
Poppy shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”
As I wrapped my arm across her chest, holding her tight, I looked at my dark-haired friend and added, “The star of the show. As always.”
“It’s only the cello, Rune. Nothing too special,” Poppy argued softly.
I shook my head in protest. “She brought the place down.”
I caught Jorie smiling at me. I also caught Avery rolling her eyes dismissively. Poppy ignored Avery and began talking to Jorie about class.
“Come on, Pops. I swear Mr. Millen is a damn evil alien. Or a demon. Hell, he’s from somewhere outside of what we know. Brought by the principal to torture us weak young Earthlings with too-hard algebra. It’s how he gets his life-force; I’m convinced of it. And I think he’s onto me too. You know, the fact I know he’s an extra-terrestrial, because, Lord! That man keeps failing my ass and giving me the stink-eye!”
“Jorie!” Poppy laughed, laughed so hard that her whole body shook. I smiled at her happiness, then I zoned out. I leaned further back against the log as our friends talked. I lazily traced patterns on Poppy’s arm, wanting nothing more than to leave. I didn’t mind sitting with our friends, but I preferred to be alone with her. It was her company I craved; the only place I ever wanted to be was with her.
Poppy giggled at something else Jorie said. Her laugh was so hard she knocked the camera hanging around my neck to the side. Poppy flashed me an apologetic smile. I leaned down, tilted her chin toward me with my finger and kissed her on the lips. I only meant for it to be swift and soft, but when Poppy’s hand threaded into my hair, pulling me closer, it became more. As Poppy opened her lips, I pushed my tongue to meet hers, losing my breath as I did.