In Waves | ✔️

41 | butterflies

Walking through the groves of the butterfly sanctuary feels like we're walking through a storybook. A magical, dreamlike storybook that doesn't seem like it could exist in real life.

Thousands of monarch butterflies are sticking to eucalyptus trees, fluttering around, defying the gray haze of the day and flashing vivid orange over the sky. Clouds of color infusing into my mood.

I never knew it until today, but if I had a bucket list then this would be at the top. Now I can scratch it off if I ever actually write a real list. I'm already ahead.

But the storybook comes to a close sooner than I want when the sky rumbles and breaks. Matt grabs my hand and we race back to his car through a growing sheet of rain, the drops beating on the roof in ricochets. He leans over and pulls me into a kiss, rough and smooth all at once. My heated blood could almost evaporate the beads clinging to my skin.

"That was fun," he says, unsticking a strand of hair from my cheek.

"Seeing the butterflies or kissing me?"

"Everything. But the butterflies take second place for sure." He reaches into the backseat as I twist droplets from my hair. Tugging over a gym bag, he unzips it and offers me a towel.

"Um. Think I'll just stay wet instead of using your sweaty gym towel."

"It's not dirty," he contends through a laugh. "I replace the bag after every workout."

I give him an impressed look. "Organized. Knew there was a reason why I liked you so much."

We make the forty minute trip back to Oceanview with the persistent rain thrumming on the windscreen. At first I'm too lost in daydreams accompanied by acoustic music flowing through the speakers, but I eventually notice that we've passed my suburb. By a long shot.

"You missed the turnoff to my house."

Matt gives his head the slightest shake. "I'm not taking you home."

"You're not?" I slide up in my seat, wiping a circle in the misty window to get a better look at where we are. I don't recognize any of it.

"No. Afraid I'm kidnapping you," he says casually. "You know we've been dating for over a month and you haven't been to my house yet?"

I freeze, keeping my eyes on the window. I'm entirely aware of my not going to his house. I've avoided it for as long as possible. Not because I haven't wanted to, but more that I haven't wanted to meet his parents yet.

I've seen them at a few school events over the years, mostly football games, and they're the epitome of polished refinement. The thought of meeting them and not making a good impression is so daunting I can feel stress hiccups coming on.

I have to keep my jaw from unhinging when we reach the top of Matt's driveway. I thought Rachel's house was big, but this blows hers out of the water. And while her house is more Mediterranean styled, Matt's looks like it's fallen straight out of the glossy pages of a modern architecture magazine.

A cobblestone driveway stretching long and wide, neatly trimmed shrubs and white rose bushes, windows so big I can't tell if they're glass walls or not. The earthy smell of petrichor emanates from the ground when I step out. There's a lull in the rain, drizzle misting over everything.

"Are your parents' home?"

Matt rounds the car, clicking his key to lock it. "Not sure."

"Well if they are then you're basically ambushing them with me," I stress, smoothing down my hair. "And look at me, I can't meet them like this."