“Well, this isn’t technically a ski lift, so it’s very unlikely that would happen to us,” she mumbles, and I snort.
Wren huffs, turning toward me. “Distract me with something, please.”
“Like what?”
“Anything.”
These girls know everything that goes on in my life—from the mundane things to the bigger ones. It’s hard to think of something that they don’t already know.
Well, there isonepretty major thing I haven’t told them about.
“Evan and I kissed the other day.”
The entire car shakes as they both leap out of their seats, yelling something at me as I grip on to my own seat. Okay . . . So maybe telling them thisherewasn’t the best idea. For two people that have been encouraging me to work out my frustrations with Evan in ‘other’ ways for years, I can’t tell if they’re mortified or excited.
“WHAT?!” Kennedy yells, eyes wide.
“And you’re only just telling us thisnow?” Wren adds.
I snort. “Jesus, can you sit down?” I shout back, gesturing at them until their eyes return to their normal sizes and they sit back in their seats. I shuffle slightly, pulling off my beanie so my hands have something to do. “I didn’t really think it was important.”
Liar, says a voice inside my head.It’s all you’ve thought about since it happened.
“You kissed?!” Kennedy squeals, and Wren makes a little noise that she covers with her hand. “What? When? Where? Why?”
“Wow. That was almost the five Ws,” I tease. Kennedy doesnotfind my joke funny, and she leans forward, gripping on to my knees and shaking me, waiting for answers. I sigh. “He was helping me with something on the list. You know, the interview with a distant family member.”
“You let him help you?!” Wren asks, and Kennedy slaps her knee. “Right. Not important. Continue.”
I wince. I knew I should’ve told them that much at least. But as Kennedy says, that’s not what’s important right now, so I continue. “We were at this dodgy cabin in the woods that my estranged aunt lives in. She was so lonely, and I felt super bad for her. But she did have these weird taxidermy animals and Evan was terrified. So—”
“Yes, yes. Skip to the kissing part.” Kennedy taps her foot impatiently and Wren snickers.
“I don’t even know how it happened,” I say, groaning as I shove my face into my hands. I look at them through my fingers. “I was just looking at him and he looked . . . gorgeous. His hair was all messy and blond and perfect from the running, and he held my hand, and I kissed him, and we made out against a tree.”
Kennedy’s mouth hangs open and Wren speaks for her. “Wow.”
“Yep.”
“Wait,” Wren says, holding her hand up to me. “Youkissedhim.”
I groan, throwing my head back. “Iknow. It’s terrible and horrible and disgusting and I have no idea what’s wrong with me.”
Even saying those words out loud, they don’t seem true. Kissing Evan wasn’t horrible or disgusting. It was messy andperfect and chaotic, but it felt . . . right. It felt like what we needed to do. I needed his hands on me. I needed to feel him close to me and find out what his lips felt like. I felt like a teenager again, all nervous and excited at the same time. I can’t remember the last time kissing someone made me feel so . . . much. I think I might’ve needed it more than he did.
“When did you guys even properly become friends?” Kennedy asks, tilting her head to the side.
I shrug. “I guess we’ve been hanging out more over the last few weeks for the project and he just . . . he’s really not as insufferable as I hoped he’d be.”
“We’ve been saying that,” she mutters, sharing a look with Wren. A look they’ve been giving each other a lot whenever Evan’s name is mentioned.
“What?” I ask, irritated.
“We’ve been saying that for years, Scarlett,” Kennedy says, letting out a short laugh. “I don’t think he could hate you if he tried. He just doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s around you, so he plays along with whatever game you’re playing.”
I blink at them. “Seriously?”
“Yes!” Kennedy exclaims, exasperated. “It’s obvious . . . To everyone except you, apparently.”
