A Girl Named Digit (23 page)

“So you quit?”

“I quit. I called Don Woods and told him the truth: I’ve fallen in love, and if I don’t find out where this is going, I know I will regret it for the rest of my life. Well, I used my own words.”

“You’ve fallen in love.” I found it soothing to repeat the words. “What did he say?”

“I was surprised that he was so cool about it. He told me that at twenty-one, I owed myself a little time. He offered to bring me home and give me the summer off, then in September I’m joining the Terror Task Force in New York.”

I didn’t say anything. I just let him hold my hand and let it all sink in. He was back, he was in love, and he was staying all summer.

He went on. “I called my dad on the flight here. He wanted to know if I’d bothered to find out if you were still interested in me before I quit my job. Then he wanted to know if I’d bothered to send flowers. He concluded by telling me that you’re too good for me, anyway.”

“I really like that man.” There are so few times in your life when you feel like you are holding all the cards. I have to admit that I was enjoying it immensely.

“It’s a good job. Not as prestigious as Special Sector, but a lot better than managing the public. I’ll have weekends off, if you want me to come to Boston, but no pressure. I don’t want to start making a whole new set of five-year plans. I just want to spend time with you before you move in August. I mean, if it’s okay, if you still feel the same way. I’m so sorry I ever left you.”

That was really all I’d needed to hear. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him like it was going to save my life. We had no place to go. I didn’t care if the guests started arriving or if my grandparents were spying out the window—which was likely.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, finally.

“Sure.” He kissed me again, holding both of my hands in his.

“Just as a short-term plan, I was wondering if you’d come with me to Hawaii for a few weeks. We have a little house on the beach in Maui, and we could just hang out. I know I owe you a pizza.”

“Hawaii?” My head was spinning. I really wanted to say something but didn’t want to break the spell.

“If it makes you feel better, we can pretend we are being chased.”

I laughed. “Okay, you can be in charge of making sure the doors are locked.” A moment passed between us, both of us realizing we’d be alone together. Of course, we’d spent a week practically in solitary confinement together, but this was different and we both knew it.

“Are you eighteen yet?”

“My birthday is on Tuesday.”

“We’ll leave on Tuesday.”

“Okay.” He kissed me again, and I realized that I could have sat on that step forever. I didn’t need to go to Hawaii; I would have been happy to be back in that dusty warehouse. But Hawaii sounded nice too.

He stood up and offered me his hand. “Let’s go back in and face all those old people. Are you going to tell them about our trip, or should I?”

“You’ve got a whole lot of sucking up to do before they’ll let me go anywhere with you. Maybe we’ll just get through this party and take it from there.”

He hugged me again, and I took a second to rest my head on his shoulder. Happiness filled every cell in my body. I’d been right. I’d been right to be myself, I’d been right to open up, and I’d been right to think someone could love me for it.

When I opened my eyes, I saw it for the first time. Parked right in front of my house. It had to be John’s car, a blue Jeep, top off. And on the back, posted for the world to see, one single bumper sticker:
MY GIRLFRIEND’S SMARTER THAN YOUR HONOR STUDENT
.

Well, probably.

Thank you to Helen Breitweiser, agent and friend, for her hard work and sense of humor. And to Julia Richardson for her clear thinking and great insights, and for seeing how hot math can be.

Thank you to Elaine Kaman Tibbals for letting me sit in her tree.

Thank you to my dad, Charles Schwedes, for all those lessons in dimensional analysis. Who knew I was listening?

My most heartfelt thanks to my children: Dain for reading critically and enthusiastically, Tommy for believing it would happen, and Quinn for inventing Jonas Furnis.

And to Tom Monaghan, thanks for everything. And I mean
everything
.