“Jasper. You’re very talented at everything.”
“Thank you.”
He smiles, before yawning and pushing himself up. “I should get going.”
“Oh,” I say. “Okay.” It is getting late.
Kieran’s already dressed, so he just stands there, patting his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. Then he meets my eyes. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah. Um. Thanks for… you know.” The back of my neck goes warm.
He nods, and then he’s leaning over the bed. I’m not sure what he’s doing until he presses his lips against my forehead. “Bye,” he says once he pulls back, and he’s out of the door a second later.
I raise two fingers to the place he kissed.
That was surprising. And weird.
And nice.
22
Kieran: Against the Kitchen Island
I shouldn’t have kissed Jasper on the forehead. That’s what I used to do with Michael.
I try to convince myself it’s not a big deal, that I’m just overthinking it. Fuck buddies do it all the time. Just like they cuddle in bed and talk to each other about their problems.
I should have left as soon as Jasper’s dad called. But the look on his face, the way his shoulders hung forward when he usually marches around with perfect posture…
Something about the sight of that made me stop thinking.
Then he spoke to me in that quiet and raw voice, and I understood what Senior tried to tell me months ago. Jasper’s life isn’t as perfect as I thought. I wish it was. It’d make it easier to hate him, and hating him is safer.
*
“Juliet and Jasper are coming over for dinner,” Senior says, unloading a handful of tomatoes from the shopping backs.
I go still. It’s a Friday night, and it’s not as if I had any plans apart from napping and rewatchingMerlin. But this will be the first time I’ll see Jasper outside of school since that last afternoon. The one where he slipped into my arms and I kissed him on the forehead as I left.
This past week at school has been brutal with assignments and tests, so I’ve decided that’s the reason we haven’t hooked up. Not because we’re avoiding each other.
“I’m going to make my famous homemade lasagna,” Senior continues.
“Sounds good,” I say, moving to the sink to pour myself a cup of water, which is why I came to the kitchen. “Do you need me to help with anything?”
“I’m fine. I’ll call you to set the table when it’s closer to dinnertime. They’ll come over at six.”
At 5:30, I go to the bathroom and spray on some deodorant and comb my hair with my fingers. Then I decide I look stupid, like a church boy with a middle part, so I mess it up again. I stare at my reflection. What the hell am I doing?
I grab the cutlery from the kitchen, where Senior’s tossing a salad, and set the table in the reading room. I spend too long straightening the placemats.
The doorbell rings.
When I open the door, Juliet greets me, a box of fancy chocolate in her hand. “Kieran, how are you? Nice to see you again. I can already smell dinner. Smells great. Senior, are you in the kitchen?” She calls, wandering down the hallway, pulling her wool coat off.
I turn to Jasper, who steps into the house. “Hi,” he says. He takes off his caramel-brown coat and folds it.
“Hi,” I say.
