I want to think this is just something girls do—that it means nothing. But I’m one hundred percent sure that the way she’s looking at me is not the way friends look at each other. Her eyes are bright, but hooded. Intense.
She’s inching forward.
Is there a heterosexual explanation for why she’s inching forward?
Her hand drops from my nose, grazes my cheek, and cups my face.
And thenI’minching forward, though it’s an unconscious decision. My heart is about to burst out of my chest.
PING!
Flávia jumps, her head nearly bumping into mine.
I slide my phone out of my pocket, mumbling apologies and trying to ignore the lump in my throat from the sudden distance between us.
Priti:How’s the party? Did they eat you alive yet?
I have never hated Priti as much as I hate her at this exact moment.
“It’s just my sister.” I type a quick reply and hit send. “Checking on me.”
Flávia smiles, but there’s a sudden rigidity to it.
“Why is she checking up on you?”
“Well, after what happened at the last party …” I know immediately that this was the wrong thing to say.
“Right.” The smile fades off her lips.
We sit on the couch for an awkward moment that seems to stretch out forever.
Then she stands up abruptly.
“I should probably go. I’m sure Chyna is wondering where I’ve gotten off to.”
“Sure,” is all I can say as I watch her avoid my gaze.
I feel my heart sinking as she disappears out the door.
What just happened?
17
ON THE BUS HOME, ICAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT THATalmost-kiss. It’s the late bus, which is always filled with people who are a bit too drunk and always smells faintly of cheap beer and piss. Tonight is no exception, but I barely notice as I take my seat.
I can’t stop replaying the party in my head: The feel of Flávia’s hands on my skin. The way she leaned forward. I’m pretty sure I’ve been smiling ear to ear from the moment I left the party.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and open up the text chain between me and Priti. There are a thousand things going through my head, everything rushing together to form a big mush of emotions.
I type,she almost kissed me!!!!!!!!!!!But once it’s on the phone screen, it feels odd. Like I’m revealing something too intimate. Like I want to keep this just to myself for a little while longer. So I erase the text, put my phone back in my pocket, and stare out the window with a grin pasted on my face. I can see my reflection in the dark tint of the glass, far clearer than the blurry city zooming past. My smile looks kind of manic, but I don’t care. I couldn’t wipe it off of my face if I tried.
Ammu opens the door with a frown before I can grab the keys from my handbag.
“Where have you been? It’s almost one o’clock, I’ve been calling you.”
“Oh … I was … at the party. Remember?” I’m sure I told Ammu about the party, even if it was a mumbled throwaway comment because we can barely be in the same room with each other anymore.
“Yes, but you shouldn’t have taken the bus to come home. Why didn’t you call us?”
