At first I start walking home, but I don’t really feel like being there. I can’t think of anywhere I actually want to be. And yet my feet take me down to Catalina Street, right to Logan’s door.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I say when he opens the front door.
“What doesn’t?”
I step into his doorway and kiss him.
CHAPTER FOUR
November of Senior Year
KAT
“OK, like, I for sure don’t think you’re stupid, but . . .” I laugh and shake my head. “I literally don’t know another way to explain this.”
Quinn dramatically sighs and smashes her face into her calculus book. “I hate this class so much. I feel stupider than I did at the start of the year, solely because of it.”
“I don’t think a career in calculus is in your future,” I tell her. “Sorry, I know that destroys all kinds of your dreams and stuff.”
“Wait, is that your pep talk?” She laughs so hard that my bed, which we’re studying on, shakes. “You’re a terrible tutor.”
“Firstly, I am not your tutor, you goober,” I say.
“Secondly?”
“It’s really not fair that people assume if you get good grades that you understand how to explain something to someone else. That’s, like, a whole other skill set!”
“Poor baby.” Quinn closes her book and rolls over onto her side next to me. “I’ll patiently wait while you finish your homework, while my future gets bleaker and bleaker.”
“Oh, shut up.” I laugh and close my textbook. “I can do this later. What do you want to do now?”
Quinn is completely still for a moment, maybe the longest I’ve ever seen her go without moving or saying something.
And then she kisses me.
It’s over almost as soon as it starts, and immediately I find I don’t know what to do with my body or my face or most especially my lips.
“OK,” Quinn says. “That’s . . . not how I hoped that would go.”
“I just didn’t expect you to—I’m not—you’re—” I cover my face with my hands, as if that’s ever been a cure for not knowing the right thing to say.
“I’m sorry,” she says, and I feel her standing up from the bed while my face is still covered. “I’ll go.”
“What about your calculus?” Oh my god, I’m such a dork.
“Hey, you said it. Calculus is not in my future.” She shoves her books into her backpack and slings it over one shoulder before walking out of my room.
“You don’t have to go,” I say, following after her.
“Kat, I feel . . .” She shoves her hands through her hair. “Epically stupid right now.”
“Please don’t feel stupid,” I say. “I mean, obviously except about calculus.”
“You’re hilarious.” She sighs and looks away. “Look. I know you used to go out with Matty Evans—everyone knows that. But . . .”
“But what?”
“I felt something.” Quinn shrugs. “I thought you might, too.”
She leaves, and this time I don’t stop her. My head’s buzzing, and there’s no way I’m going to manage finishing my homework right now.
James texts back almost right away.
It takes her longer to respond this time.
She’s already sitting inside Simply Coffee when I get there, which doesn’t surprise me considering she’s a tall athlete whose sport is literally trying to get places faster than her opponents. (I’m pretty sure that’s what track-and-field is, at least.)
“Let me buy your drink,” I tell her. “Usual?”
She nods, and I dash up to the counter to get her nonfat latte and my iced dirty chai. Everything feels like it’s swirling around in my brain, and I wish there was a way to take a snapshot of all of it to show James. A GIF, at least.
“OK, so.” I sit down at the tiny wooden table with our beverages. “You know how I’m, like, becoming good friends with Quinn Morgan.”
“Yeah,” she says, “I’ve noticed.”
“So we were hanging out just now and . . .” I muss my hair so it hides my eyes. “She kisses me.”
I expect James to look shocked, but she’s just sitting there, listening, like the super dramatic part of my story hasn’t even happened yet.
“She kisses me!” I repeat like I’m a helpful guide to my own tale. “And, like, of course I was really surprised, and . . . I really did think we were just friends, and . . .”
I take a huge sip of bittersweet chai goodness. “She felt bad about it but I felt bad because I just sat there like a rock, James, like, the worst way to look after someone kisses you.” I mime looking like a rock for her.
“It’s not the worst way if you don’t want to be kissed by someone,” James says.
“Maybe.” I slurp more chai. “She says she felt something.”
“And?”
“And . . . how do I know if I did, too?” I shove my hair around some more. Big hair can be a good curtain. “I’d just never even thought about it, like it wasn’t an option. Why would it be an option? I like boys.”
James nods. “I’m sure she’ll understand. And if not . . .” She shrugs. “It’s senior year. You don’t have to see her around for that much longer, all things considered.”
“James, I can’t imagine not seeing Quinn anymore,” I say, as I realize it. Whoa. “She’s, like, magically become this big part of my life. Also our college application list is basically the same, remember? We could totally end up at the same school. It would be weird to ignore her all year and then four years more.”
James doesn’t say anything, just sips her latte.
“I think kissing her might have been OK, if I’d been expecting it,” I say.
“Kat,” James says. “You don’t have to kiss someone you’re not interested in just to keep from hurting their feelings.”
“Obviously, I know. I’m just saying . . . I wish I would have known it was going to happen.” I think about Quinn lying next to me in my bed, how her grayish blue eyes watched me, how she somehow tasted a lot like my favorite sweet spicy beverage. I had to be imagining that last part, though, right?
“I wonder—” I cut myself off when I see a text come in from Quinn.
“See?” I show James the message. “How can I ignore her for most of a school year and potentially a whole bachelor’s degree?”
James calmly folds her hands together on the table. “Do you like her?”
“Of course I like her. She’s an amazing friend.”
She gives me a look. “You know what I mean.”
“I . . . I don’t think so. I don’t know. I’d know, wouldn’t I?”
There’s a faraway look in her eyes. “I didn’t know right away with Logan.”
“James!” I jump up from my chair and crowd in along the booth side of the table next to my best friend. “OMG, I’m terrible! We can talk about all his faults if you need to. Tell me every stupid thing he did.”