He pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth, before he narrows his eyes. “Where’s this coming from?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Yes…have you?” He chuckles.
Jealousy flashes through me, and I do my best to ignore it. “No… and who?”
“Just a few girls. Nothing serious.” I’ve never known Wild to have a girlfriend, so maybe these were just random girls. He’s pretty popular, way more so than me. I mean, I’m popular in a“you’re Sebastian’s sister, right?”kind of way, but he’s the golden boy. The king of the sophomore class. He’s already been nominated for homecoming court for his grade, and people pretty much assume he’s going to win.
I push my unreasonable jealousy aside. “What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?” he responds, confused.
“To kiss someone?”
“You don’t know?” he asks, and I see a flash of something in his eyes that I don’t recognize before it disappears.
“How could I kiss someone? You scare off any guy who looks at me sideways.”
A smug smile pulls on his lips before he takes a bite of his French toast. “Good, I’m doing my job.”
“No, you’re not. I’m going to die never having been kissed at this rate.” I cross my arms over my chest with a pout.
“Okay, you’re fourteen. Don’t be so dramatic.” He gives me a pointed look that I could only equate to a fatherly scold, based on what I see in movies.
“Wild, this is your fault,” I whine.
He chuckles. “Mine!? What did I do?”
“Yes, girls my age are being kissed and know how to. I don’t! And you are scaring off anyone who could potentially kiss me!” I say as I stab a piece of French toast with a little more force.
“Okay?” He takes a sip of his orange juice before looking at me over the rim of his glass.
“My friends practice with each other.” I scrunch my nose. “But I don’t want to do that.”
“Okay…” he repeats.
“I mean, you are my best friend…” I say with a bit of pleading in my tone.
His eyes widen. “Me?” he asks, realizing where I’m going with this.
“Yes, you. Come onnnn.”
“Absolutely not, Saint. No.” He shakes his head.
“Why not?”
“Because…” He hesitates briefly before continuing, “We can’t do that.”
“It’s just to teach me,” I counter.
“I’m not helping you learn how to kiss for you to do it with some other guy. No.”
I frown because what does that mean? Why does it matter? “It’s just for me to learn! So I’m not awkward or bad the first time I do it.”
“No,” he repeats without another word, and I note that he won’t even look at me now.
“Fine, I'll just ask Brant.” I shrug as I get up from the table. I’ve barely made it a step before a hand is wrapped around my wrist, gripping it tightly.
