I laugh.He’s joking, right?“Sure. I give my mom and dad kisses all the time.”
“No. I mean...” He hesitates, finally looking up from his book. “A boy. Have you ever kissed a boy?”
“Ew!No.”Why is my heart beating so fast all of a sudden?“Haveyouever kissed agirl?”
“Nope,” he answers, dropping his book into his lap.
He goes quiet and starts tapping his fingers on the pages with a weird look on his face.
Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, he closes the book and sets it aside. “What if we did?” he blurts.
“Did what?”
“Um...” He looks at me with a sheepish look on his face. “Kiss.”
My heart jumps, and I can feel my neck get hot. “You... want to kiss…me?”
“Sure. I mean, why not? We’re friends, and neither of us has been kissed before. We could be eachothers first.”
“Don’t you think that would be kinda weird? I mean, we used to take baths together, and you’re my brother’s best friend.”
“You’re one of my best friends too, Iz. Come on. Please?”
I think about all the reasons we shouldn’t. I mean, this is Rowan. The same boy who put a frog in my sleeping bag at camp last summer. The same boy who knows all my secrets and still likes me anyway. Then I remember what he said to me by the pond earlier today. How it made my stomach feel all fluttery. How much I liked it.
“Okay,” I shrug, acting like it’s no big deal even though it feels like my heart is about to thump right out of my chest.
Before I can even think about what’s happening, he leans in and presses his lips to mine.
Ro’s lips are soft and warm. The kiss is quick, and when he pulls away, my lips are all tingly, and my face feels hot. And he looks... shocked, I guess? I’ve never seen his face look like that before.
Blinking at me, he swallows hard. “Wow.”
Just as I lift my fingers to my lips, I hear my mom yell for us to come inside and wash up for dinner, breaking the spell.
Before I can say anything, Ro jumps up and scrambles out of the treehouse. “Let’s go, Sunshine.”
We don’t look or talk to each other much at all for the next couple of days. Then, one morning, I wake up and he’s gone.
And he didn’t even say goodbye.
three
The roarof the jet engines fade as we taxi to a stop at Portland International Airport.
After shoving my sunglasses on, I pull my baseball cap down low. The last thing I need is for someone to recognize me and post about my arrival on social media. Another reason I grew out my beard, which I’m actually regretting because it’s scratchy as fuck.
Grateful my carry-on is my only luggage, I keep my head down as I navigate through the terminal. No waiting at baggage claim means less time in public, and less of a chance of being spotted.
Portland International isn’t quite LAX, but it’s busy enough that I feel exposed. A few people glance my way, some doing double-takes, but I keep moving. Nothing to see here people. Just another tourist wearing a hat and sunglasses.
Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I weave through the bustling terminal, checking my phone for the text Logan sent me with detailed instructions on where to find him in the parking garage.
LOGAN
Level P-3, Section D, Row 12
Stepping onto the escalator, I keep my gaze fixed on my worn pair of Converse. An excited squeal pierces the air behind me, followed by hushed whispers.
