I felt dizzy and hot, as if I might pass out from shock.
But you liked me then? Why didn’t you say anything?
He wrote back a couple of seconds later:You were 14, it was weird.
You were 15!!!!!
His message came back nearly instantly::)
My mouth dropped open.
Did you just ... send one more emoji and I’m going to turn to mush.
:) :) :) :) :),he wrote.
My mouth is literally open right now.
He said:I didn’t know mush could do that.
I let a couple of minutes pass before I sent anything back, and when I did, I simply said,So.
So?He wrote.
I kiss you, you kiss me back (after an unforgivable amount of time), you tell me you’ve liked me for 3 years and then we just go back to normal?I asked.
I bit my lip as I waited for his response.
Is that what you want?He wrote.
No.
What do you want?
I started to say that I didn’t know, but then I changed my mind and decided to be totally honest.To kiss you again.
It took ages for him to write back. Glaciers melted, animals went extinct, man touched the sun. Finally, his response:We could start with frozen yogurt?
So we did.
I borrowed my mom’s car and drove to Cold Rock Café. My palms were slick against the steering wheel, and I wondered the whole way whether I was underdressed in my denim skirt and T-shirt, or was it overdressed? Was it possible to be both?
Luckily, when I pulled up in front of the fro-yo store, I saw Luke waiting outside, his hand in the pocket of his jeans. He, too, was wearing a plain T-shirt. His face relaxed into a grin as soon as he saw me, and I couldn’t help but smile.
The butterflies in my stomach were having a riot and my heart was staging a stampede, but neither of those things mattered.
Luke Cohen was looking at me like we shared a secret.And we did.
“Hey,” he said when I stepped out of the car.
“Hey,” I said, feeling shy. We both kind of hesitated, not sure whether to hug or kiss or neither or both.
In the end, we did neither and just walked into the store. “What’s your favorite flavor?” Luke asked, holding the door open for me. “I feel like I should know that.”
“Mango,” I said. “What’s yours?”
“I like vanilla. Kind of boring,” he said.
“No, I like it, too.”
