“Q-Quinn.” She wipes at her face.
Oh, God.
“Well, he’s almost fifteen,” I hedge. “He’s about the right age to start dating, I guess, and?—”
“They’re supposed to wait for me,” she wails.
I cover my face with my hands and focus on breathingwhile I sort through that statement. “You like both of them?”
“Yes,” she sniffles. “They’re so cute and nice and?—”
Shit. I figured she was sweet on one of them, and I mean, they’re identical, so I guess I kind of get it, but she’s really gone all in on her first crush… crushes.
Why did it have to be my brothers?
“Well, they’re a good bit older than you and?—”
“I don’t care.” She wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands.
My heart aches for her. Young love and first crushes don’t always make sense, but the emotions that accompany them can be strong.
“Casen doesn’t have a girlfriend, does he?” she asks, her voice rising in panic.
“Um…” Chest pinching, I shake my head. “Not that I know of.”
Then again, I didn’t know Quinn even liked a girl, let alone was close enough to one to be kissing her. Though since the awkward condom conversation that I’m sure will haunt me for the rest of eternity, I’ve steered clear of asking about their love lives.
“Why couldn’t he kiss me first?” she cries, eyes pleading.
“Umm…” I worry my bottom lip, wishing Caleb were here to handle this. “You’re ten, and they’re almost fifteen, so?—”
“And I’m almost eleven.”
“Yeah, but right now, a four-year agedifference is a big deal. Once you’re adults, age gaps like that aren’t as big an issue.”
Her eyes widen in a mix of excitement and horror. “You mean I still have a chance with them, but not until I’m twenty?”
I’m not going to touch on thethempart of that question, deciding to assume she means that she might have a chance with one of them. Surely that’s what she means, right?
“Um, yeah.” I heave a breath. It’s better to reassure her than crush her spirit even more, right?
Still sniffling, she says, “My mom is running errands. Is it okay if I hang out here until she gets home?”
“Yeah, sweetie. That’s fine. Do you want a snack?”
“No,” she sighs. “I just want to lay here and listen to sad music.”
“Oh.” I stand slowly. “Just holler for me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” She gives one last sniffle. “And thank you for talking to me.”
“Mhm,” I hum, easing out of the room. “You’re welcome.”
I shut her door quietly behind me and let out a deep breath. Then I pray that this crush passes quickly. For all our sakes.
Despite my better judgment, the second Quinn steps into the house, I blurt out, “Who’s the girl you were kissing?”
“Jesus.” He slaps a hand to his chest. “Where did you come from?”
