I could feel him. He wasn’t doing anything except sitting behind me while the teacher droned on, but I sensed his presence, his eyes on me like he’d caught me in an invisible woven filament net and was reeling me in.
Because now I knew. I knew something was up with him, or rather, between him and me.
He kissed me.
That meant he wanted to be more than friends. I wanted to be more than friends. We secretly agreed.
I think.
No, I knew. He wouldn’t have kissed me otherwise. Tate didn’t see me as only his friend.
Hallelujah.
But this knowledge made me flustered.
Because Tate was watching me.
I didn’t know what to do with my hands, my body, my thoughts. I did my best to sit still, but even that felt unnatural. The kiss magnified the significance of every moment.
Each move I made was studied, like an actor on stage. I felt overly self-conscious. The simplest of actions required more thought than ever before—tucking my pleated skirt under myself as I sat, sliding my bag under my chair, picking up my pen, raising my hand. I did my best to participate like always, although my thoughts on The Handmaid’s Tale were on the fritz.
I needed to talk to him.
When he picked me up this morning in the MLR, I’d run out and opened the passenger door before he could turn off the engine and come up to our front door, which he’d do if I wasn’t waiting for him, because he was a charming gentleman. I took a deep breath and clambered into the cab, not knowing what to expect.
What I received was his usual crooked smile and an iced latte with three sugars and a dash of cinnamon. “Morning. Got you this.”
“Thank you.” Did I lean over and kiss him? Did I say something? Help. “How early did you get up to get this?”
“It’s no biggie,” he said as always. He never answered my questions about the lengths he went to for my gifts, but he had to budget time for getting himself ready, waiting in line at the coffee shop, driving to my house, and still making it to school on time.
Again, why has some girl not snapped him up? He’s incredible.
Then my skin tingled.
It was me. I was the girl in the process of snapping him up, which made this whole day different than any that had come before.
I wanted to climb into his lap. But with no clues from him that anything was different, I behaved as usual, pretending there’d been no kiss. I yawned and smiled and sat in the passenger seat of the MLR about a mile from him at the wheel, drinking my iced coffee, lost in my thoughts.
The ride to school was quieter than normal, although we were often less than animated first thing in the morning. He played our school playlist—songs the exact length of the drive to school, four and a half minutes.
It had taken us months to create the playlist, doing our best to get the songs down to the second, so we didn’t spend any extra time sitting in the car for a song to finish or starting a new one that we wouldn’t hear until after school.
A dumb game, sure, but it was the kind of thing he and I liked to do. Today was “Born this Way,” although that needed ten more seconds to make it long enough. Tate knew this, so he started Lady Gaga ten seconds into the drive.
After bopping along, we’d arrived at school and split for our individual classes.
But now? It was almost lunch, which we always shared.
I didn’t want this to be awkward. I just wanted him to be mine.
Tate wasn’t the first boy I’d ever kissed. I’d kissed Court Thompson on a dare at a party, and I’d been to a few dances with boys besides Tate in my freshman and sophomore years. But after we started hanging out in earnest, it became automatic that he’d take me to homecoming or prom. As friends.
No wonder everyone thought we were dating. From the outside world it seemed like we were. I didn’t want to broadcast that our first kiss had been only yesterday.
But I had to sort this out.
The bell rang, and we walked outside to the picnic tables. No cafeteria food for us. Tate’s mom always made us a catered lunch. Today it was cold noodles in these adorable takeout boxes and spring rolls with dipping sauce. Being with Tate meant causing a healthy dose of lunch-envy in others. Not that I minded. It was yummy, and his mom was the best.
After we sat down and started eating, he asked, “How was math?”
As if this were a normal day.
“It was fine,” I started, and opened my mouth to ask more. Like,
Why did you kiss me?
Do you like me like that?
Can we kiss for real?
But we were interrupted when Sam came and sat down beside us.
“Hey, guys! Wanna sign my yearbook?”
“Sure,” Tate said, suppressing a sigh that only I noticed.
After we scribbled in Sam’s book, a line formed. No joke. While we signed yearbooks, Jade Lopez sat down on the other side of Tate, too close. I wanted to scratch her eyes out, but I was above that.
So, I only thought about it.
Jade’s dark hair lay in neat waves, not all crazy and spirally like mine. And she wore the trendiest things she could find—not my collegiate clothes inspired by Raiders of the Lost Ark and Brideshead Revisited.
Tate seemed to like what I wore, and he seemed to not want to talk to Jade. He scooted near me so his thigh pressed against mine, and my heart warmed even more for him.
Like there was any more room in there for him. He already took up my entire heart.
“Tate, do you want to come over tonight?” Jade asked, squeezing his forearm.
Was she serious? Tate was mine.
Maybe.
“No,” he said. “I’m hanging out with my brothers and watching the game.”
Her hand trailed up his arm. “You could watch it at my house.”
“No, it’s a thing we all do. I watch it with them.” He reached over and put a hand on my thigh. He’d never done that before.
I found a secret space in my heart he hadn’t already occupied and shoved him in there.
“Oh, too bad.” Her bored voice had a wistful undertone.
What was her game? Asking out my, uh, boyfriend.
Was he my boyfriend?
God, I needed to talk to him, but other kids came over, including my best friend Wren Namuang, whose calculating eyes took in how I was plastered to Tate’s side. “Hey, wanna meet me at the diner after school?” I asked.
“Can’t,” Wren said. “I’ve got piano. What about Saturday?”
“Yeah, I can do it then.” I pulled out my phone and texted her from under the table.
Me: Lots to tell you
Her phone pinged, and I could see her hands flying under the table. Thankfully, no one paid attention to us as Jade blabbered on about something.
Wren: Has something changed with you and Tate? He couldn’t keep his hands off the back of your chair in class and now he’s all touchy with you
Me: He kissed me
Wren looked down at her phone, then up at me, blinking. She got a wry look on her face and tilted her head while her chestnut eyes evaluated me like I was a puzzle she was trying to figure out. Finally, she texted,
Wren: He hasn’t before?
Me: Nope
Tate turned toward me, a glorious smile on his face. “Hey, are you two texting?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
He laughed. “Okay. You know you’re sitting right there. You could talk.”