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  “Have fun.” Mom smiles knowingly while mushing ground beef into meatballs. The smell of the spices she’s mixing fill the kitchen and tickle my nose.

  “You know where we’re going, don’t you?” I march right up next to her.

  “Yup.” She looks down at the meaty mess. “But I’m not telling.” She gives a fake twang. “Just go, or I’ll have to touch you!” Mom holds up her fingers dripping with ground beef.

  “Ahhh!” I scream and dart to the closet. I pull on my puffy coat with the cute faux-fur-lined hood and my cream knit mittens and hat. I sprint up the stairs and grab a pair of socks and my UGGs. As soon as I have them on, I spring back down. I shrug as I take a quick glance in the hall mirror.

  “Ready,” I announce back in the foyer.

  Noah puts his gloved hand in my mittened one as we traipse through the neighborhood. Maybe he’s taking me to his house. I hope there’s not a Mighty Ducks 4. But we don’t go that way. We head toward the big field fringed by corkscrew willows that separates our subdivision from the next one. Whoever owns the land won’t sell, so it remains untouched and wild.

  “Wow, I haven’t been out here in forever.” I sigh. “I used to catch frogs, climb trees, pretend I was on secret missions, all kinds of stuff out here.”

  “I think everyone in the neighborhood used it as an escape. I love this place.” Noah squeezes my hand. “Well, here we are.” We’re standing on the edge of the pond frozen over with thick, dark green ice. Noah walks behind a tree stump and pulls out two pairs of ice skates.

  “Sit down, Cinderella. Let me put on your glass slippers.”

  “We’re skating?” He must have planned everything. He stashed the skates here. He set things up with Mom.

  “I want to share this with you,” Noah whispers.

  I can’t answer. My emotions are stuck in a thick, gooey ball in my throat. I know skating means everything to him. I sit obediently and let him lace my skates. When they’re tied he laces his own.

  “Ready.” He takes my hand.

  The cold, metallic scraping of skates on ice echoes through the vacant field. It’s just Noah and me. He faces me and holds my hands, skating backward as we make our way slowly around the pond.

  “I didn’t know anyone skated out here.” My words seem too loud for this peaceful, private spot.

  “It’s where I learned.” Snow shavings fly from Noah’s left skate as he flips his ankles to a stop. “Ice time is expensive, and the rink’s always packed. So, on days I didn’t have hockey, I’d come out here and practice and practice and practice.” His voice trails off as he leans forward to kiss me. His lips are warm and sweet.

  “I love you, Lindsey. Happy Valentine’s Day.” His emerald eyes peek through his thick lashes.

  I feel like I’m in a movie. I can’t remember ever being this happy.

  “I love you, too.” I hadn’t said it out loud to my friends or even to myself, but I knew it was true. The words had bubbled at my lips a couple of times, but I didn’t want him to think I was clingy and way too into him. Noah saying it first means everything.

  He kisses me again, just quick and soft then pulls my hands to keep skating. He doesn’t say anything about what we’ve confessed. As always, it seems so natural with him.

  The only interruption of the swish, swish of our skates is birds chirping in the branches of the willow trees that hang so low they tickle the frozen ground. “You getting chilly?” Noah asks.

  I want to lie and say no. I never want to leave this magical spot, but I feel like a human Popsicle. “I’m freezing.” My teeth chatter as I form the words.

  We go back to the bumpy log and unlace our skates. Noah pulls out a thermos. He unscrews the top and pours steaming cocoa into the red plastic lid that doubles as a cup. It’s sweet and warm and creamy going down, and helps thaw my insides, but I’m still shivering.

  “We’ve got to get you back.” Noah laughs. “You’re like Karen in Frosty the Snowman, remember? In the refrigerated boxcar?”

  I laugh. “Only, you’re much cuter than Frosty.” I kiss Noah’s cheek.

  Inside my front door I stamp my feet in an effort to shake off the chill.

  “Let’s go beg Dad to make a fire.” I grab Noah’s hand. “He’s actually in town!”

  “I’d love to, Linds, but I’ve got a game. I really have to get going.”

  I know he has a game, but I’m crushed. I don’t want him to leave. I love him!

  “I’m really sorry.” He leans over and holds me. “I wanted to do something with you for Valentine’s. Something special.” Every inch of my body is against a part of him. My shivers cease. I love him even more for hugging me, instead of trying to make out. His lips brush mine for an instant, then he whispers it again: “I love you.”

  “Hang on a minute!” I remember the valentine I have for him in my room. I fly upstairs, grab the package in pink tissue paper with the card taped on top. I run as fast as I can back down the steps and arrive at the bottom, out of breath.

  “For you.” I catch some air. “It’s nothing, compared to what you gave me.”

  “What is it?” he asks and raises his eyebrows.

  “You can open.” I nod.

  He reads the card, laughs, then gives me a quick kiss. He shreds the beautifully wrapped package as only a guy could do. “Yum!” he declares and grabs one of the brownies with bittersweet frosting I made for him. Then he takes the frame I painted to look like his hockey uniform at Emma’s mom’s pottery place. He runs his fingertips over the picture of us taken at youth group a couple of weeks ago.

  “You are so gorgeous.” He shakes his head.

  “I love you.” I reach up to ruffle that fabulous hair. “Thank you for the best Valentine’s ever.”

  “It is the best. I love this pic.” He grins, one side of his mouth creeping up more than the other. He’s on the step when I remember.

  “Good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks.”

  And he’s gone.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  And swivel, swivel to the left.” Todd’s voice booms over the music in the church gym.

  “Swivel, swivel to the right, swivel, swivel all day and night.” Todd breaks out into hysterical laughter, grabs me around the waist and dips me, like Fred Astaire. I am caught completely off guard and have to wiggle and stumble to stop myself from falling flat on my back. Todd’s laughter is contagious. I can’t breathe, laughing this hard in a backbend.

  “Enough ladies.” He expertly rolls me up his arm, like a rag doll, into standing position.

  “Enough for today. Enjoy your weekend.” He doubles over, still laughing.

  “Thanks for the dance.” I bow toward him.

  He smiles his mischievous smile, then flies to the jam box. I have no idea how his body moves like that, like a marionette on strings, effortless, soft and flouncy.

  “I secretly admit I’m relieved the basketball team’s away tonight.” Melissa wipes her sweaty forehead with a towel. “I don’t have enough energy to perform!”

  “I am so glad, because it means you guys are spending the night! I’m so psyched!” I swallow half my Evian in one gulp. It’s been a week now since Valentine’s Day, and while I’m still reeling in romance, I am really looking forward to a night with just the girls. “Come on.” I grab Melissa’s arm, barely allowing her to gather her things and tug on her coat. I hustle her to the parking lot where Mom’s Prius is just arriving.

  “Did you get out early?” Mom looks puzzled as we scurry into the car.

  “No, just ready to party.” I smile, reaching for the volume on the stereo. I punch the station to Air1 and crank it up. Melissa and I dance the best we can while buckled. Mom laughs.

  “What time’s everyone else coming?” Melissa shouts over the stereo.

  I turn down the volume to answer, “Around six. That gives us time to shower and change and . . .” I look hopefully to Mom. “Order pizza.”

  “I already said you could ord
er two pizzas.” She smiles.

  “And, we can pour the M&M’s in bowls and maybe sample half a bag or so until the other girlies ding-dong.” Ick! Why’d I say that? I always talk about food; I forget Melissa struggles so much with eating. She’s great, though. She just rolls with it.

  “Sounds great.” Melissa bobs her head.

  Emma, Raven, Gracie, Melissa, and I lounge in the family room. Plates with half-eaten pizza crusts and bowls with melted puddles of ice cream litter the coffee table. The plasma TV is on, the lights are low, and Raven’s got the clicker. She pauses on MTV.

  “Isn’t that Scarlett Johansson?” Emma asks.

  “Yeah, I think so.” I examine her pouty lips and curvy body. “Why do you think a big actress like her would do a video?”

  “Because it’s with Justin Timberlake is why.” Gracie unrolls her sleeping bag.

  We all sit mesmerized by the music and the dancing and the hoops and the flames and Scarlett’s lips and Justin’s hands. I feel squirmy and uncomfortable. I mean it’s just a video, not some X movie or something, but wow!

  “Wow!” Raven passes the clicker to Melissa. “That makes me feel naughty.”

  I’m glad I’m not the only one. Ever since the incident on Noah’s couch, I’ve had temptations I didn’t even know existed. As a Christian, especially one who’s saving herself, I know they’re all wrong, and I’ve tried to ignore them. But this sultry video makes sensuality so intriguing.

  “I am naughty!” Emma drawls in a suggestive voice begging for attention.

  “We know that.” Gracie laughs.

  “No, really naughty.” Emma’s laugh is almost a cackle.

  “What do you mean?” Melissa asks, eyes wide.

  “Promise not to tell?” Emma lures us into her secret.

  “Promise,” we say, huddling close.

  “I’m sleeping with Peter,” she announces and then adds for effect, “and he’s totally hot!”

  “You vixen!” Raven cries.

  “When did all this happen?” Gracie asks.

  “Recently.” Emma digs her fingers into the M&M bowl. “Remember that night at the dance when he drove me home?”

  “Wow, that first night?!” I ask incredulously. That’s just so fast and so wrong! my radar shouts. They’re barely dating. I know he didn’t even get her a card for Valentine’s. I also know his Facebook profile lists him as single, and that really vexes Em. Now I know why it bothers her so much.

  “No!” She elbows me. “Not then. That’s when he first kissed me.” She shrugs coyly. “Plus a little more.”

  “This is really . . . big.” Melissa paces her words.

  “You’re being safe, right?” Gracie lays her hand on Emma’s arm.

  “Whatever.” Emma rolls her eyes. “So, anyway, the next night he offered to take me home, and things got hotter and heavier, and he says he’s absolutely crazy about me.” She bats her thickly mascaraed lashes dramatically. “So not last Saturday, but the one before, after the hockey game.”

  I flash back to the game.

  “Remember, we all hung out for a minute around the locker rooms to congratulate the guys when they came out?”

  I nod and pop some M&M’s in my mouth to keep from saying anything I’ll regret. The sweet chocolate calms me for a second. I feel so anxious for Emma. Why did she do this? And why is she so proud?

  “Yeah.” Raven leans back against the couch. “Randy and I went home with Mom and Dad, and you’re saying something huge happened after we piled into the Explorer.”

  “Lindsey and Noah had a quick smooch when no one was looking — except me.” She glances at me sideways.

  I blush. I had hoped no one had seen. I mean, everyone knows Noah and I are together. But, I like the no PDA rule for dance team. It keeps all of our intimate stuff . . . intimate.

  “Gracie and Drew hugged, so sweet!” Emma makes kissy lips. “Melissa waited graciously.”

  “You went home with Peter!” Melissa remembers.

  “I did indeed!” Emma shakes her shoulders. “And no one was home at his house. He played this great music, and we did it then and again on Sunday afternoon and Thursday after school, too!”

  “Get out!” I’m unable to keep quiet a second longer. “When were you going to tell us?”

  “Now.” Emma smiles. “I’m telling you now, when I have you all gathered together in one happy place.” She raises her eyebrows.

  “So, what’s it like?” Gracie asks.

  “Gracie!” Melissa slaps her.

  “Just curious . . .” Gracie shrugs.

  “Come on?” Emma raises her eyebrows. “You and Drew never do?”

  Gracie shakes her head.

  “Did it hurt?” Raven scrunches her nose.

  “I thought you were going to wait!” I blurt before Emma can answer. I don’t want to accuse her, especially in front of everyone, but I thought that was the deal. I feel like she cheated. I feel like she cheated on me.

  It sounds like someone just yanked the cord on my hair dryer — unexpectedly and painfully silent.

  “Number one, Miss Perfect . . .” Emma turns to face me. Her voice has morphed from storyteller to litigator. “I never put on a chastity ring or anything. And number two, you’re supposed to be my friend, not my mother!”

  A total slap in the face! She hates her mom.

  “I’m sorry, Em. I’m not saying what you did is wrong. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” I lean in and hug her. “This is huge and you shocked the daylights out of me.” I feel her body shake for one second in my arms. Is she crying or laughing? Then she tightens like a starched shirt.

  “Well, you know I love shock value.” She pulls back and grins.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The sound of skates on the rink is like the sharpening of knives. I shiver as I stand inches from the glass separating me from the ice.

  Clack, clack, clack, clack.

  The team bangs their hockey sticks against the ice in unison — their way of clapping, Noah explained to me. This signals the end of practice. I stand out of the way as the guys, hulking in their stinky equipment, hop over the wall to the bench, then lumber in their skates to the locker room.

  I wait. Boys laugh deep, sporty laughs. Shoulder pads thunder as they fall on the floor and locker doors squeak open and shut. I pull my phone out of my bag and flip through my messages. I think of texting Emma, but don’t want to be on the phone when Noah emerges. It’s Tuesday, and we’ve barely seen each other all week. He plays away again this weekend so I’m taking advantage of his rare afternoon practice. I thought we could at least walk home and do homework together.

  “Hey, short stuff.” Randy ruffles my hair as he walks by with a group of seniors.

  “Hey, Randy.” I smile.

  Peter taps me on the shoulder, turns, and smiles as he exits the glass doors into the lobby with a cluster of players. What Noah said about being a hockey girlfriend has come true. I feel welcome here. No one gives me a hard time, and as far as I know, no one gives him one either.

  The rink’s empty. And there’s Noah, walking out of the locker room with the coach. Slung over his shoulder is his enormous hockey bag. It looks big enough to stash a few dead bodies in it. His other hand rakes his hair wet from the showers. I can’t stifle the smile that overtakes my face.

  “Right, Coach,” he says.

  “This weekend, I’m counting on you.” The coach whaps him on the back.

  Noah nods and walks directly up to me and kisses me on the cheek. “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Why is such a pretty girl hanging out with such a ruffian?” The coach laughs.

  I peek out from behind Noah and shrug.

  “Coach, this is my girlfriend, Lindsey. And don’t ask her things like that. She might realize what a mistake she’s made.”

  “Nice to meet you, Lindsey.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I shake his hand.

  “See ya, Coach.” Noah turns and puts his arm around my shoulder
.

  “Young love,” the coach croons as we walk away.

  Noah laughs. “He’s just jealous. No way he can get a hottie like you.”

  “He’s probably happily married with a houseful of kids and doesn’t care one bit about high school girls.” I shake my head.

  “He is.” Noah stops and turns to me. “So, maybe I’m jealous. I’d like a wife and a houseful of kids.”

  My heart beats faster than the paparazzi’s flashbulbs. “Who do you think could put up with you for the rest of your life?” I ask and keep walking. I smile, without him being able to see my face. I love teasing him and can’t wait to hear his response, but I’m not sure I’m brave enough to see his expression.

  “I was kind of thinking you might.” He catches up to me. “I promise I’ll let you watch The Mighty Ducks whenever you want, and I’ll keep our fridge stocked with Gatorade.”

  “Well, in that case . . .” I giggle. “I’ll think about it. But only if I can pick which flavors of Gatorade.”

  “Deal.” Noah shakes my hand.

  I know this conversation is all in fun, but beneath the joke is the idea of marriage — of us being married and having kids, together, and Noah is the one who brought it up.

  I feel like skipping all the way home, but would rather walk slowly and savor Noah’s arm around my shoulder and the electricity when our sides brush.

  “So, what are you doing this weekend, while I travel the state in the name of hockey?”

  “We’re going to the basketball game Friday. I’ve got halftime and Emma’s sleeping over Saturday.”

  “What about the other girls?” Noah ushers me around a puddle on the sidewalk like a true gentleman.

  “I think Drew and Gracie are going out. Melissa’s going to visit her cousins, and Raven and her folks are traveling with the team to watch Randy. It’s not fair that she gets to see you play.”

  “You two could trade places. Or, I could kidnap you on our bus, but you’d be bored stiff when I go to the game an hour early and when I’m practicing and watching films and stuff the next day.”

  “Okay, so the hockey widows will just have to eat popcorn and watch movies without our men.” I sigh.