Priya: A very public kiss.
Me: Yeah, didn’t see that coming.
Priya: Speaking of coming . . .
Me: PRIYA!
Priya: Kidding (although I would love that detail if it happened). Do you like him?
Me: Obviously I like him. I kissed him in front of the freakin’ world.
Priya: There’s “like” and there’s LIKE LIKE. Which is it?
I stared at my phone, at Priya’s text, and felt something warm spread through my chest at the thought of admitting this to someone other than the knuckleheads at the bar, someone whose opinion truly mattered to me.
Me: Yeah, I really like him.
Priya: Good. He seems nice. Also hot. But mostly nice.
Me: He’s both.
Priya: You have a date planned? Tell me you have a dateafter that kiss.
Me: Yes. We’re doing dinner. He’s picking me up at 6.
Priya: HOLD ON. DAMN IT.
Another wait.
I sipped my coffee and pulled up Instagram again, scrolling through more comments on the kiss video. Someone had even made a GIF of the moment—just the kiss itself, looping endlessly with a text overlay that read, “Horny Rivals has nothing on these two! #barbacks”
I should have been mortified.
Instead, I couldn’t stop smiling. I may have even giggled, though I would never admit that to anyone, especially not Priya.
Priya: Back. Patient emergency. Not dying, just dramatic. ANYWAY. What are you wearing?
Me: To dinner? I don’t know. Clothes?
Priya: Finn, I swear toGod.
Me: What? I haven’t thought about it.
Priya: It’s 11:50 a.m. Dinner is at 6.
Me: I just woke up!
Priya: Think about it NOW. Blue shirt. The one I bought you for your birthday. It makes your eyes pop.
Me: You bought me that shirt two years ago.
Priya: And you’ve worn it exactly three times because you “forget you have it.” Wear it tonight. Trust me.
Me: Okay fine. Blue shirt.
Priya: Good. And do something with your hair.
Me: What’s wrong with my hair?
