He covered his face with his hands. “Oh, come on, Tess. You have to finish!”
I glanced at the clock. “There’s literally two minutes left. I mean, I already wore a strapless dress to a party to replace the sushi thing, but what can I do in two minutes that’s epic enough to be worthy of the list.”
“I don’t know…dance on a table?” he said, gesturing at the coffee table, which was still full of glassware.
“Yeah, that’s not happening.” I looked at him and an idea occurred to me. “Wait, what’s something you’ve never done?”
His eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yeah. I only did this whole thing because of you. You’ve been a part of it from the beginning. Give me something good,” I challenged. “Something I can do on your behalf.”
“Are you kidding? This is too much pressure. I can’t—”
“Let’s start the countdown!” the DJ at the teen party shouted, his voice reverberating down the hall and into the lobby. All the well-dressed adults milling around us began to murmur and pick up glasses, pouring out champagne and toasting.
“Twenty! Nineteen! Eighteen!”
“Give me something! Anything!” I said to Christopher, waving my hands.
“Uh…I don’t know, I don’t know!” he said.
“Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen!”
“Christopher!” I prodded.
“Fourteen! Thirteen! Twelve!”
His eyes lit up. “I’ve got it!”
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
He reached up his hands to me and I pulled him to standing—pulled him up hard enough that we bumped chests.
“Seven! Six! Five!”
Christopher looked into my eyes. We were so close our noses were practically touching. We really were the exact same height.
“Four! Three! Two!”
His breath was warm against my mouth as he said, “Ever kiss a guy wearing a cast before?”
My heart skipped as I realized what he was saying. I smiled, my skin tingling from the tips of my ears to the tips of my toes.
I closed my eyes, and I kissed him.
“One!”
Fireworks exploded outside the windows. Literal fireworks to mark our first kiss. But they may well have been inside my chest.
“Happy New Year, Tess,” Christopher said, his lips against mine.
“Happy New Year, Christopher.”
TESS’S NEW YEAR’S BUCKET LIST
Make a paper airplane that actually flies (20 seconds at least) ✓
Sing in public ✓
Strike up a conversation with a stranger ✓
Wear high heels outside the house ✓
Make out with a guy whose last name I don’t know (???) Kiss a guy in a cast ✓
TP someone’s house ✓
Get Adam Michel’s autograph ✓
Get a short, stylish haircut ✓
Ski a black diamond slope ✓
Eat sushi Wear a strapless dress to a party ✓
“It’s really happening?” I asked Christopher, holding my phone up so he could see my face as I shoved my feet into my newish Vans. He was sitting on an exam table at the doctor’s office, the paper sheet crinkling beneath him every time he moved.
“It’s happening!” he said gleefully. And maybe a little fretfully. Not that I could blame him. Some person was about to come at him with a circular saw. “Distract me while they get this thing ready,” he said, clearly trying not to glance at the doctor, who was off-screen. “What are you doing today, Type A?”
“I’m going to meet Jenna and Liam at the skate park,” I told him. “I told them I’d get them ollying before spring.”
Jenna and Liam were the ten-year-olds I was teaching how to skateboard. After returning home from our winter break trip, I’d gone straight to the indoor skate park downtown and signed up to give beginner lessons. It had both forced me back onto my board and introduced me to a lot of new people. Plus, I was making bank. Parents, it turned out, paid a good chunk of change for their kids to be entertained for an hour—and to learn a new skill.
“That’s awesome. Tell them I said, ‘hey.’ ” Christopher had met Jenna and Liam briefly during our second class, when I’d FaceTimed him to prove I was skating again. Not that he didn’t believe me. I just liked to keep him informed. I’d also called him after my first French club meeting, and when I’d gone with Lauren to volunteer at the animal shelter. I was trying new things all the time now. Some had worked out better than others (don’t get me started on the glass-blowing class), but I was really enjoying putting myself out there. Although I was kind of shocked at how long it was taking for my right eyebrow to grow back. Fire was not my friend.
“What’s your latest new thing?” I asked. “Aside from getting your cast off?”
I heard the saw fire up in the background, and Christopher gulped.
“Well, I bought my first train ticket to Philly,” he said.
I almost dropped the phone. “You did?”
Christopher’s parents hadn’t let him come visit me yet, because they were worried about him navigating mass transit with his cast and crutches. But we’d been hoping they’d let him come visit once he got the cast off.
“I did!”
“Okay, time to hand the phone off,” said a voice off-screen.
Christopher handed the phone to someone else, and for a second I just saw the ceiling lights and something blue, but then I was focused on Christopher again.
“You there?” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I’m here!” I shouted, hoping to be heard over the buzz of the saw.
He opened his eyes after the blade first hit the plaster and watched until the cast was completely free, a big grin on his face. As soon as it came away, I cheered, and Christopher sat up to better see his pale and shriveled skin.