FIFTEEN - BEFORE

Hanna's excitement was infectious. Weirdly, anticipation outweighed my nerves as I descended the stairs of Willard Hall and headed for the parking lot, where Josh and I had agreed to meet.

Her going-out plans had been delayed by over an hour: the time it took for her to turn my closet upside down and pick me out the perfect outfit. It took one incredibly long discussion and countless outfit changes, but eventually we settled on a black-and-white spotted tea dress (hers), with a denim jacket (Devon's, on a third-hand loan after Hanna had already borrowed it), and white sneakers (mine). With no time to do anything drastic to my unruly curls, we left them long and flowing, and I resisted Hanna's attempts to start work on a full face of make-up, because I still wanted to look like myself.

An hour wasn't enough to work a miracle, but overall I was pretty happy.

Now, I headed over to the dark-blue Chevy outside my dorm in a way that felt kind of familiar. Josh leaned over and opened the passenger door for me; he was smiling wider than ever as I stepped up and climbed inside.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I said back.

Although he looked effortlessly casual in a black T-shirt and faded jeans, the craft to his hair and hint of cologne revealed he'd made an effort. The thought made me tingle all over.

"You look great," he told me.

I hoped the darkening evening would hide my slight flush. "Thank you. You, too."

The corner of his lip curled. He kept looking at me, fueling an intensity that burned hotter with every second of silence. Eventually, it got the better of me.

"So," I said, clearing my throat, "what's the plan?"

Shifting the truck into reverse, he began backing up out of the parking lot. "I was thinking we could catch a movie," he said. "You know, first date, and everything—that seems like the traditional thing to do. Plus, the movie theater downtown does the best nachos you'll ever eat. What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me."

The theater, roughly ten minutes away, was a small independent place with only two screens. With limited options, we settled quickly on a movie: an R-rated thriller following a group of friends at some creepy lake house over spring break, where there also happened to be a serial killer on the loose. Josh paid for the tickets without letting me protest, so I made sure to get my credit card out quickly when we ordered an extra-large portion of those famous nachos. Once we'd settled into our seats, and I finally got to dig into the pile of crispy, cheesy heaven, I discovered that they were exactly as good as he'd claimed.

If only the same could be said for the movie.

"I'm so sorry about that," Josh said two hours later, as we emerged from the darkness into the artificial light of the lobby, dazed and very confused. "Seriously. You should hold me personally responsible for making you endure more than five minutes of that movie. Maybe even take legal action."

He was being dramatic, but after two straight hours of boredom-slash-total-disbelief, it didn't seem all that unreasonable. The first death was understandable, if a little gruesome; these characters hadn't known they might be brutally murdered when they booked their Airbnb. But waiting for the second death before calling the police? And waiting for the fifth—not to mention the most contrived of them all—before getting the hell out of there?

Honestly, they had it coming.

Still, I wanted to spare Josh's feelings. "It wasn't that bad."

As he pulled open the exit door, and stepped aside to let me pass through first, he shot me a look that killed any further lie in my throat. "Morgan, please don't try to sugar coat it. That was bad. Like, worst-movie-I've-ever-seen kind of bad. And if you think otherwise, I'm not even sure we should go on a second date."

A smile crept onto my face. "Okay. You're right. That was terrible."

"Thank you," he said, as we approached his truck. "And like I said, I feel like I'm responsible. I need to make it up to you."

"No, you don't."

"I definitely do." He unlocked the vehicle, and we both pulled open the doors, hopping into our seats at the same time. "You want that to set the tone of our first date? I'm not superstitious, but if we leave things this way, I feel like it's an omen, or something."

I laughed. "What?"

"I'm serious," he said. "I don't want to leave you with this. You'll go home and think about that goddamn awful movie, and your brain will start to make a permanent association, and before you know it every time you think of me you'll have this gut feeling that something's just... off. And then I won't stand a chance."

The way he was looking at me made my stomach flip over. But I did my best to hide it. "Really?"

"Really." He nodded. "So what do you say? Will you let me take you somewhere else to balance it out?"

Instinct had me glancing at the time displayed on the car radio. Then I realized it didn't even matter, because I was in college now. Not only would my parents not question why I was back so late, they wouldn't even know about it.

"Okay," I said, with a smile. "Sure."

So he started driving again, speeding off into the night, offering no hints by way of direction or destination. It was the kind of thing that typically would've terrified me, but for once I didn't mind. Venturing into the unknown was edged with thrill rather than terror when Josh was around. We could've driven for hours and I wouldn't have questioned it—as long as it meant holding onto that feeling for a little longer.

Still, I was surprised when I realized we were heading back the way we came, and even more surprised when he followed sign after sign for Davidson University. When he took the final turning onto campus, I glanced over.

"Did you change your mind?"

"What?"

"You're taking me home," I said. "Aren't you?"

"Guess again." He shot me a mischievous smile: one that tightened the knot of anticipation in my stomach. When I frowned, he laughed. "This is going to seem weird at first, but trust me, okay?"

He wasn't wrong. I didn't have a whole lot of experience, but I was pretty sure most dates didn't end up in parking garage D—the multi-storey lot tucked behind the robotics building—let alone when the place was deserted. As the truck climbed the levels one by one, it was even a little creepy. But every time I went to say something, Josh gave me a look, and I zipped my mouth closed all over again.

Eventually, we reached the roof level. Up here was completely open, exposed to the elements, with the midnight sky stretching like a dome around us. A cold wind wrapped around my arms as I climbed out of the truck; I pulled my jacket closer to my chest.

"Okay," I said, facing Josh. "I have to say it. I'm getting serial killer vibes."

He laughed again. "Still not the first-date impression I want to leave you with. And it won't be. Come here."

I followed as he stepped toward the concrete barrier at the edge of the rooftop, still not sure what he was playing at. It wasn't until I got right up close, the front of me pressed up against the cold ledge, that I realized why we were here.

The breath escaped me like a gust of wind.

"Whoa."

We were on top of the world. At least it felt that way, as my gaze skimmed over the panoramic view of campus. The iconic clock tower was the centerpiece, lit up tonight in school colors, with the other buildings fanning outward like the petals of a brickwork flower. From here, the pillars of the student center looked like ornate Grecian architecture, their wear-and-tear invisible from a distance. Even further out was the lake: nestled in the trees on the north side of campus, the water deep black and undisturbed.

Never before had I thought of this place as particularly pretty, but here it caught me off guard.

"The best view you'll find anywhere on campus," Josh said. "Parking garage D. Who would've thought it?"

"This is crazy." I leaned further onto the barrier, craning my neck for a better look. It was so unexpectedly serene. There was an entire campus full of life beneath us, and yet it also felt like we could've been the only two people in the world.

Josh moved closer.

"I found it when I came back from a late-night library session," he told me. "Had to park all the way up here because the place was rammed. But when I came back, I realized I was looking out at this. Not a bad accident, huh?" He smiled. "Since then, whenever I find myself driving around late at night, searching for a quiet moment... I always seem to end up here."

There was a pause.

"Still," he said, "I guess you already know about my tendency for midnight drives."

At first I looked blank, but then it dawned on me: how we'd first crossed paths. I ducked my head. "Oh, God. Don't remind me."

"That wasn't a bad accident, either."

"It was an overwhelming first night, put it that way." Linking my hands together on the concrete barrier, I let out a sigh. "My friend Hanna isn't one to ease herself in gently. I guess I should've seen it coming."

Josh shrugged. "First night of college is always one to remember."

"I've definitely found my feet now, though. I can mostly find my way to class without getting lost. I've learned which washers in the laundry room swallow your quarters. And most days I feel like I'm treading water instead of thrashing about trying not to drown. So there's that."

He laughed, then met my gaze. "I think you're doing great."

"You do?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I mean, from where I'm standing, it seems like you've got your shit together. Especially with the volunteer group and everything. It's been really great having you involved."

"I'm glad I did it," I said. "It's been a step outside my comfort zone, for sure, but... so worth it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

It wasn't like he doubted me, but heat flared on my face when he held eye contact. It felt too intimate, like he was peeling back my layers and revealing more than I realized was on show. Eventually, though, he softened.

"So did you read the book?"

I stopped. "What?"

"You know," he said, with a mischievous glint in his eye. "The book. The literary masterpiece I gave you last week. I can't remember the exact title, but if it was anything like mine, there was probably a semi-nude guy on the front of it."

"Oh." I grinned. "You're talking about My Bad Boy Butler."

"That's the one. I have to know: did you make any progress with it?"

"Yeah, I finished it."

"You finished it?"

I frowned. "Why do you sound so surprised? I thought we had a deal. Don't tell me I suffered through two hundred and fifty pages and you gave up with yours."

He looked sheepish.

"Josh!"

"Okay, okay!" He held his hands up in defence; it was hard to keep pretending I was mad when he looked so cute. "Look, it wasn't like I didn't try to persevere. I really did. But there were only so many times I could read about erections hard enough to cut diamond without wanting to claw my eyes out."

"Hey, no excuses. Mine was just as bad," I said, ignoring his pleading look. "Tell me honestly. How far did you get?"

He ducked his head and mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Just under halfway," he repeated louder, already wincing in anticipation of my sharp look. Even though we were only joking, it felt kind of nice to hold the power for once. "I tried, okay? I tried and I failed. So I'll hand it to you: you've got more grit and determination than I have. Congratulations."

"Well," I said, "only when it comes to learning dozens of new euphemisms for a penis."

He smiled wider than ever. "You never know when that'll come in handy."

I laughed, the sound tumbling out of me like throwing dice I knew would come up lucky. Everything about this moment was so perfect; I could hardly believe it was real. I couldn't wait to shake Hanna awake back in our room and tell her everything—to finally switch roles and be the one with something exciting to share. My years of patience had led up to this, and I could already tell it was worth every minute of waiting.

"It wasn't a literary masterpiece, then?"

I shook my head. "Definitely not. Worth the shot, though. I really wanted to prove you wrong."

"Hey, I never said I wasn't with you." Was it my imagination, or had he moved closer? "In actual fact, I'm still with you."

"Really?"

He'd definitely moved closer. "Really."

"So you're willing to give another one of those books a try, then?" I said, enjoying the way the words rolled over my toying smile. "To prove the point?"

"Uh, I don't think I need to."

"No?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. Now, not only was I certain that our faces were closer than ever before, but his gaze kept dropping to my lips before dragging itself back up again. "Because your word is good enough for me."

I held eye contact, keeping it steady, even though my stomach was tying itself in knots. "That's a lot of power you're giving me."

"I know," he said. Another glance at my lips. "But I think you can handle it."

There was no mistaking what was coming next. Even I could read the signals—and take from them that he wanted me to make the first move. And to my surprise, it didn't terrify me. I rarely envisioned taking the lead in anything, let alone in the company of someone as confident as Josh, and yet in this moment it didn't feel like the same unconquerable mountain to scale. He was laying everything out in front of me, quietly, giving me the chance to tackle it head on.

"You know what?" I said. "I think I can, too."

And then I leaned in. The first movement came from my end, my face rising to meet his, but from then on it was anything but one-sided. It wasn't fast or rushed or daunting: just a moment to savor as his lips molded against mine, his hand reached up to cup the side of my face, and the warmth of his body crossed into an eighteen-year-long safe zone. It just felt right—so much so that I couldn't believe I'd waited this long to experience anything like it.

With this charming, thoughtful guy who'd somehow crash landed in my life, against a movie-moment backdrop I would never have dared to imagine, it felt like my wait was finally over.

Unfortunately, everything else was just beginning.

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PHEW. I have to admit, I've lost count of the times I wrote and rewrote this chapter. Is it just me, or does anyone else find first date scenes ridiculously hard to write?! There's something about trying to find an appropriate setting, make the conversation flow, get the characters to reveal enough about themselves but not TOO much... yep, I'm exhausted.

But I think I'm finally happy with how it turned out. What do you guys think? Are you liking Josh and Morgan as a couple (obvious and sinister foreshadowing aside...)?

Your comments on the last few chapters have been doing wonders for my motivation, so please keep it up. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story.

- Leigh