Page 64 of Meet Me on Love Street
“I know,” he says. “I think a part of me never thought we could pull it off.”
“Of course we could pull it off,” I say, grinning. “We’ve worked our asses off and have a great committee.” I’m super proud of what we’ve done. “It’s funny, my dad usedto say I was anideaperson, not anexecutionperson. It feels good to beexecutingmy vision.”
“What was he talking about? Like what kind of ideas didn’t you execute?”
“Oh, tons of stuff. Like in grade six I wanted to start my own business selling hand-painted press-on nails and bought a bunch of stuff for it, but then school got busy and I had to help my mom with a few big orders in the flower shop. Oh, and before that it was friendship bracelets, dog walking, and cat sitting. Big ideas, no follow-through.”
“Sana, you were like, what, twelve or younger for any of those. You were a kid.”
“I’m still a kid. I’m only seventeen.” I know Miles is only a year older, but it feels like there’s a world of difference in that year. He’s living on his own and working to pay his rent. I just graduated from high school and live with my mom.
“Yeah, but you work two jobs. You were the chair of your school’s prom committee and the festival committee. Don’t believe your father—you’re one of the most driven and responsible people I know.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m not sure anyone has ever said it to me.
“Seriously, Sana,” he says. “People assume you’re shallow or flighty because you dress girlie and talk about romance all the time, but you’re not.”
“Youthought that about me,” I say.
Miles exhales, then tightens his arms around me. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much I like being in his arms. When we’re connected like this, it feels like the whole world around us disappears. “I was wrong,” he says. “There’s nothing shallow about you, Sana.”
I turn so he can kiss me then, and it’s as good as it always is. Better. I’m in so deep with this guy. Deeper than I thought was possible.
I’m smiling when we break free. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met,” I say.
He’s smiling too. “I meant it,” he says.
“I also made assumptions,” I say. “I thought you were stuck-up and smug. I’m glad I was wrong.”
He shrugs. “I was a little smug when we met. But… you shouldn’tbelieveall these things people—especially your father—say about you.”
“I’m working on it.” I exhale. “You know my father’s not even coming to the festival? I told him about it. I don’t even know if he’s proud of me for this.”
Miles kisses my cheek. “I’m proud of you.”
I smile. “I’m proud of us both. We did this.”
He responds to that by kissing me. And then kissing me again. And I completely forget what we were talking about because there’s nothing more important than getting lost in Miles Desai’s kiss right now.
When I finally go into the apartment, Mom is on the couch surrounded by scissors, twine, glue, and other craft supplies. “Oh, you finally came inside.”
What’s that about? “Yeah, Miles and I were out back. What are you doing?”
“I’m trying, and failing, to make rustic-chic vases for a barn wedding.” She’s still fiddling with the twine and isn’t looking at me. “You’re seeing a lot of him, aren’t you?”
I raise a brow. A few weeks ago she was convinced that Miles would be good for me, and now she has an issue withme spending time with him? “I mean, that’s kind of the point of dating someone, isn’t it?Seeingthem?” I sit on the armchair. Zuri immediately climbs into my lap and starts purring.
“Do I need to talk to you about preventing pregnancy?”
I roll my eyes. What exactly is Mom’s problem tonight? “Mother, first of all, you know I’m not a virgin, and you know I know how to prevent pregnancy, considering you explained it to me when I was, what, eleven? And second, where and when do you think Miles and I are potentially making babies? Considering we’re both working long hoursandplanning a festival, the balcony is the only place we’ve been anywhere near alone in weeks. And neither of us is an exhibitionist.” I’m hoping to rectify the fact that we’re never alone as soon as the festival ends, but I’m not about to tell my mother that.
Mom sighs and starts wrapping the twine around a mason jar. “Just… be smart. I see a bit of my relationship with your father in you two.”
I scowl at her. So that’s what’s on her mind. “Miles isnothinglike Dad. He likes andrespectsme for who I am. Don’t project your relationship mistakes on me.”
Mom puts her jar down and turns to face me. “That’s not fair, Sana. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“And Mileswon’thurt me. He’s honest.”
