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This situation wasnot funny.
And I’d been right in my assumption that Rachel closing the curtains would be a bad idea. Though Reed was crouched on the ground, pressed up to the kitchen island cabinets, he was still visible even in the dark kitchen. He had his hand over his mouth, and from the split second of looking at him, it didn’t look like he was breathing. I didn’t let myself stare long. Before he could meet my gaze, I turned to the window and tugged the curtains shut. Then I moved to grab Rachel’s arm. “Let’s go back to bed.”
“Hey.” She stopped me from tugging her out of the room, and the look she gave me had me freezing.She knows, I thought, a desperate edge sinking its teeth in.She took one look at me and she knows.The Reed-induced fog made it impossible to think of an apology other than bursting into tears.“Watch, tomorrow, no one will be thinking about the list. At least, they won’t be thinking aboutyou. No offense, girl, but you’re not the most shocking one on there.”
Rachel was my best friend, but she wasn’t a mind-reader. Of course, she’d be able to see that something was wrong, but she couldn’t always tell what. And Reed was right. They must not have twin telepathy, otherwise she’d be able to sense him cowering in the dark. “You’re right,” I said at last, clearing my throat. “It’s—it’s dumb to put so much on a stupid kiss.”
“Hey, my first kiss wasn’t bad. Think of the spit like moisturizer.”
An hour ago, I probably would’ve been thoroughly grossed out. I might’ve laughed. Now, still reeling from what had happened less than ninety seconds ago, I could only draw in a shaky breath.
Rachel patted my hand and started to walk with me into the hallway. “But I’ve got faith. With you, I bet your first kiss will be magical.”
Magical. I cast one last glance into the dark kitchen, but there was no movement.Magical. Like my palms smoothing over Reed’s bare skin. His hands grasping my hips, hoisting me up to give himself better access. His lips, a determined pressure against mine.
Oh, no, indeed.
“You look tired.”
Alex stood with me by the lockers while we waited for Rachel and Maisie to show Tuesday morning, but the clock was ticking closer and closer to the top of the hour, which meant I’d have to head to class soon. I might’ve lucked my way out of a detention with Mrs. Winston yesterday, but I couldn’t toe the line any further.
Then again, I wasn’t sure I wanted to wait around to face Rachel. I’d ducked out of the Manning house in the wee hours of the morning, unable to face either twin.
Alex surely wouldn’t be waiting much longer, either. In fact, I was surprised he was sticking around instead of heading to class, making lame small talk. “I’m fine.”
“I know no one likes coming to school and hearing they look like crap, but—”
“I said I’m fine, Alex.”
“I remember how I felt when I got put on the list last year. I couldn’t sleep either. It’s kind of a double-edged sword, you know?” Alex rocked on his heels, gazing down the hallway. “You feel important, because someone in that group must’ve noticed you, but it’s for an embarrassing reason.”
I gripped my phone in my hand, imagining it was a stone I could smack into his forehead. “I’m not embarrassed.”
He nodded his chin, as if sayinguh-huh, sure. “I was embarrassed.”
That was because his label had been Never Get A Girlfriend. Coincidentally, he asked Maisie to homecoming three weeks later, the day before the dance. Andthatwas why I didn’t trust him. I couldn’t tell if he asked her out because he wanted to or if he asked her out to scratch his name from the list. Sure, they’d been together for almost a year now, but that fact always lived in the back of my mind.
I blinked down at my phone, hoping it would have the effect of a door slamming onthatconversation. I loaded the Babble webpage, instantly soothed by the familiar blue and gold layout. Something about it made me feel less on edge. Maybe it was because each time I looked at it, I was always transported to the days I spent building and perfecting the webpage, gleaning any ounce of information that I could from articles and YouTube videos.
And now, here we were, two years later, and I was just beginning the journey of doing web design professionally. It made my coder heart squeal with joy.
Loading up the Most Likely To post, the one with the yearbook-like layout, I balked at the statistics. “Last night’s article got a hundred and seven comments!”
“Lemme see.” Alex craned his head closer, nearly knocking into mine. “What do they all say?”
I fought the urge to pull away from him while I opened the comment box. An array of usernames greeted me. That’d been a huge engagement boost when I first introduced it—up until then, people could only comment or submit tips using their email address. Now they could be completely anonymous if they chose.
Which was a good and bad thing.
“Ouch,” Alex hissed, pointing at my screen. “That one’s brutal.”
ForgetForever: Notice how she didn’t mention her own tag? Awkward!!!
Hunt4Bulldogs: I wouldn’t either—she’s never been kissed?!
JeffBoy22: I call cap on that. I saw her kissing someone at a party over summer
Hunt4Bulldogs: nah, look at her. Never been kissed? I can believe it
