“How’s the gum?” she asks, eyes on my mouth.
I blow another bubble, tugging the rag so she steps closer to me. “It’s…minty.”
“You hate it, don’t you?” She asks, amused, letting me pull until the front of her shoes hit mine and our fingers brush.
“It’s…growing on me…” I blow another one, but she pops it this time. I stick my tongue out to clean it off my lips, and her eyes follow the movement.
“I can tell.” With her free hand, reaches up to my face, but she doesn’t touch me. “You have?—”
“Go ahead.” I lean down, holding my breath when her cold finger brushes the corner of my mouth to remove the remnantsof the gum I didn’t get. She rubs firmly but slowly, and despite her skin freezing, it sears me.
My heart skips a beat, my jaw aches, and I notice how hard I’m clenching my teeth. I swallow and chew, realizing I had stopped doing that.
“Got it.” She removes the rag from my hand, wipes her finger on it, and takes a few steps back.
“Thanks. Best girlfriend ever.” I wink at her.
She blushes. “You make a corny boyfriend.”
“Isn’t that the whole point?”
“I don’t know, I guess.” She shrugs, gaze sweeping over me in a thoughtful way.
“What?” I watch her the same way she’s looking at me.
It’s beyond me how good this—wework. How we make sense and everything feels steady when I’m around her. It’s also pretty crazy how much I like being around her and how I look forward to this—her.
Is this what a crush does to you? Makes your heart palpitate out of control, hands clammy, thoughts racing—not in an anxious kind of way but in a way you want to talk about everything and anything and you’re not sure where to start?
Then there’s looking forward to the small things, like hoping her eyes are always on me, wanting to touch her because I just need to feel her skin. Seeing red tint her cheeks and knowing I’m the reason for it.
But is this considered a crush? Is this not too soon? Is this sane? AmIsane?
Should I consult my therapist for this? I haven’t spoken to him in a while; surely, he’ll know what’s going on, right?
Her lips tug into a pretty smile. “For never being a boyfriend, you’re good at this. You were phenomenal yesterday. If hockey doesn’t work out, you should consider acting.”
I’m not sure how much my parents are sold on this, but Thea said she’d have believed it, if she didn’t already know it was fake. Mom didn’t ask questions, only texted me and said it’s a pity it didn’t work with Florence, but she’s willing to give Anna a chance.
She’s taking this better than I expected. But I’m not naive to believe she’s suddenly changed. Something’s different, I just don’t know what.
And going into acting? Mom would love that since she’s a director and her side of the family is all part of that industry.
I grin and lift my shoulder in an absent shrug. “It’s hard to fake something that feels natural. I just…I don’t know…did what felt right. Hard to explain but?—”
“No, I get it. It felt—feels…good.Wedid good. If you ever need a girlfriend, you can hit me up.” She makes a phone sign with her hand, placing it by her ear. “Call me, beep me, if ya wanna reach me,” she singsongs.
I chuckle. “Where’s that from?”
She stares at me, bewildered. “Do you not know who theKim Possibleis?”
I ponder it, but nothing comes to mind. “No? Am I supposed to?”
“Oh God, I’m breaking up with you.” She looks so offended it’s cute.
“You can’t. Not until the end of the semester. Until then, you’re stuck with me,meu bem.” I wonder what her being stuck with me this semester will look like?
Her eyes level with mine, and for a second, I wonder…is she thinking it too?
