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Lewis nods. “You’re probably right. Thanks so much for listening to me vent.”
I lift onto the balls of my feet again. “It’s no problem.”
“I’m glad we’re friends.”
“Me too.” I look to the ground, bashfully. “Umm, did you take a photo of me at the skatepark?”
“Oh, yeah.” He fidgets in his stance. “Of you and Parker.”
I look up. “Oh.”
“Did you want a copy?”
I grin. “I’d want a copy of any photo you take. You’re so talented.”
He puffs a laugh and rubs behind his neck. “Ah, thanks.”
“I mean it. You’re a true artist.”
He runs a hand down my arm. “So are you with your baking.”
“I’ve always thought of baking as art.”
“Maybe I can photograph it one day,” he suggests. “I bet I could get some cool macro shots of the actions in your kitchen.”
“Wow, that’d be incredible.”
Before I can get out anymore gushing, Lewis pulls me into a hug. My head rests against his shoulder, and it takes a moment for the shock to wear off before I hug him back. We stay in the embrace for a long moment. It’s not a tight hug, but I enjoy every second of being in his arms.
When he pulls away, he whispers, “That necklace is really pretty. How come I’ve never noticed it before?”
I run a finger over the pendant. “I don’t wear it very often. Maybe I should change that?”
Lewis smiles. “Yeah, maybe you should.”
Is he thinking about our almost kiss on the ferris wheel? Is he upset because Yvie figured out he really does want to kiss me? Will he finally do it now?
“Thanks for being my friend,” he says, lifting a hand to wave. “Good night.”
My posture droops. “Good night, Lewis.”
I practically float to my house. In the living room, when I hug my parents and say good night, I’m still in a dream-like state.
“Kikki, what happened to your eye?” Mom asks worriedly.
I grin like it’s the best thing that’s happened to me. “Don’t worry. Lewis gave me ice and I feel perfectly well.”
Dad’s eyes narrow. “Why are you acting like you’re doped out?”
I giggle, backing out of the room. “I’m just happy, Dad.”
I twirl by Brandy, scruffing her fur before gliding up the stairs.
In my bedroom, I set the stuffed bunny on the end of my bed, shed my denim jacket, and let out a blissful sigh.
Beep, beep.
It’s a text from Parker.“How’d it go?”
