“She does. And I’m not even telling her how late it was.” I sigh. “God, I feel like I’m back in high school, having my friends cover for me so I can sneak out with boys.”
Leigh grins. “Except you didn’t do that back then.” I toss my pen at her, and she giggles, holding her hands up in defense.Then she lunges to hug me, squealing loudly enough that my already damaged eardrums hurt. “Last night! Oh my god!”
“That good, huh?” I ask with a laugh. “Did Shane have a lot of deep thoughts about global warming?”
She pulls back and leans against my headboard with me. “I wasn’t interested in his deepthoughts.”
“Don’t I know it. So was rock star sex everything you hoped for and more?”
“Totally. I mean the bragging rights alone—” She stops, pulling her buzzing phone out of her pocket. “Ah, Miranda.” She swipes a button and Miranda’s face appears on the screen. She’s got her dark hair in a messy bun, no makeup on, and she’s clearly driving in her car.
“Have you asked her about Kevin yet?” she demands, watching the road in front of her.
“I was just about to,” Leigh says, and turns the phone to face me.
Miranda looks down at the phone long enough to see me. “You definitely have bed head, but I’m not sure it looks like sex hair.”
I pat at my hair self-consciously. It’s been recently relaxed, but I still have to keep it oiled and conditioned to maintain it that way. Neither of which I have done, last night or this morning. “That’s because it’s not.”
“What?” both Leigh and Miranda say. Leigh disappointedly, and Miranda with her brow furrowed.
“I didn’t sleep with him.” I bite my lip. “But we did spend the night together.”
“Whaaat?” Leigh perks up at this news. “What happened? Or should we wait for Miranda to get here?”
Miranda shakes her head. “Sadly, I’m not on the way over. I fell back asleep, and now I’m late for study group, and I’m going to get my ass handed to me if—hey, asshole! Ever heard of a blinker?” She honks her horn, then glances back down at the phone.
“What about you?” I ask Miranda. “Did you get with JT?”
She gives me a look that clearly says she knows I’m just trying to change the topic, and will allow it. For now.
“Nah,” she says. “I mean, we made out, but I wasn’t as into it as I’d thought. But then I met this really hot guy who was the arena’s talent liaison, and he even found my shirt—”
“My shirt,” Leigh cuts in.
“—and I definitely got with him. And will probably do so again tonight.”
“Ooh, another date,” I say. “That sounds—”
I don’t get to finish before Miranda cuts me off. “Enough about me,” she says. “Spill it, Maya. Now.”
And because I’m dying to be able to tell them about this—and, if I’m honest, just to talk about Kevin—I do. “We may have spent the night together, just talking.”
“Are you serious?” Miranda says. “All you did was talk?”
“Yeah, but . . .” I don’t know quite how to explain to them how not-disappointed I was with that outcome. And also how sad it was, even though it was my idea. “He was really amazing to talk to. We watchedParanormal Activity, and he had room service bring up a cheesecake, because that was as close to a birthday cake as they had in the middle of the night. He got candles and everything, and had me make a wish—”
“I told you he was nice!” Leigh says, as if she had known this personally and not from internet hearsay.
“Wow,” Miranda says. “He totally sounds like your type, Maya.” She seems surprised about this, and I can’t blame her. She’s always been into the bad boys, while I like the quiet ones. And I don’t think either of us expected to find out that Kevin Collins was quiet and shy.
He wasn’t shy with me, though. Just sweet and considerate, even when I turned him down for more, something part of me violently regrets.
“Do you think he’s gay?” Leigh asks. She doesn’t sound judgmental about that, and I could see how she could think it. I wonder how the punk scene would receive a gay, black guitarist, and I’m guessing it wouldn’t be great.
“No,” I say quickly. “He made it pretty clear he wanted to sleep with me. And I kissed him, and he definitely kissed me back . . .” Heat flushes through me, just thinking about it.
Miranda sighs. “No spark? I get you there. JT is hotter than hell, but he kisses like a slobbering dog.”
