“Well,” I start, “maybe if you’d talked to him like you said you would—”
She sighs then digs into her skirt pocket. “Fine. Here’s your stupid bet money.” Three measly bucks land in my palm. “I had to dig under my bed for change. It’s all I have.”
I slide the cash in my back pocket. “Dang, I feel kinda bad now.”
She snorts. “No you don’t.”
I grin, playfully nudging her shoulder. “You’re right.”
The cafeteria bustles with energy and conversation as soon as we step inside. It always smells a little like chicken soup and Clorox, a weird combination, but recognizable. Shoes squeak across the linoleum as students wander to their lunch tables. Overlapping chatter echoes through the hall, interspersed with laughter.
Lunch is released by grade, so juniors and seniors eat together first. Sophomores and freshman get second lunch. Since Sara and I are seniors, it means we eat together every day. I’d even go so far to say it’s how we became friends. I kept finding her at lunch and pestering her with random conversation, and she eventually chimed in.
I can’t explain why I was drawn to her, really, but I knew from the beginning she had a vibe. She’s giggly and fun to be around, matching my energy and cracking jokes almost as often as I do. Who wouldn’t want to be around someone like that?
We go through the motions of grabbing a hot meal before finding our usual seat. As I’m unfolding my napkin, Sara places her elbow on the table and cups her chin in her hand.
“Just look at him.” She sighs wistfully. “How is he so perfect?”
I follow her yearning gaze. Of course. She’s looking at Joe.
“I’ve been thinking,” she goes on, “I’d love someone like Joe to be my first kiss.”
I nearly choke on a piece of chicken I’ve just popped in my mouth. “You’re such a cliché. Just kiss whoever. What does it even matter?”
It’s not like we haven’t talked about this stuff before, but it hasn’t come up in a while. I used to think of Sara as my second sister back when we first started high school. Sure, I teased her a lot—and I still do—but we can talk to each other about anything.
So when she admitted last year she had feelings for me, I didn’t know what to do. If I’d felt the same way, I would’ve told her. But I didn’t. And I’m not the type to lead someone on—that’s just cruel. I could never do that to my best friend. Honesty was the best route, but I still hate the way it crushed her.
Anyway, that was forever ago. She’s moved on, and why wouldn’t she?
I just didn’t think she’d move on to Hotshot Joe.
“I’m not gonnakiss whoever.” She does a very poor impression of me. “Why do you think I’ve been saving my first kiss for so long?”
“Saving?” I laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s been arealstrugglerejecting all the guys lining up to kiss you.” I uncap my water bottle and take a drink. “Besides, it’s not that hard to kiss someone.”
“Hey, guys.”
Tammy grins at us as she slips into a seat beside me.
Sara leans over her tray. “Hey, Tammy.”
What does Sara need to save her first kiss for? It’s been a minute, but I’ve kissed a few girls. It’s no big deal. She builds things up in her head all the time, and this is one of them. I need to show her it’s all very casual.
And that’s when I get an idea. Agreatidea, even.
“I’ll show you,” I tell Sara. “Just watch.”
I turn to Tammy, cupping my hands around her face and—wow. Her skin’s pretty soft. I don’t think I’ve noticed something like that before. I’ve also never noticed she’s got a cluster of light-brown freckles scattered across her nose. But then her clear blue eyes widen in confusion as I begin pulling her in close,closer—
Smack!
My hands fly to my cheek as Tammy grabs her tray and storms off, announcing to the table behind ours that “Patrick is a big fat pig!”
Well, that backfired.
“You know you deserved that, right?” Sara spears a piece of chicken with her fork. “And that was definitely sexual harassment. Don’t even think about trying that again.”
