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It waslike I was outside my body, watching this person move my lips. Move my hand.
Because the old Kiyana wouldn’t be alone in a car with the only lesbian at school.
Old Kiyana wouldn’t be reaching across the console and savoring the feeling of Xi’s soft skin under her fingertips.
Old Kiyana would never reveal her deepest secret.
And old Kiyana wouldn’t be waiting with bated breath, caring more than anything about what Xiomara would say.
But then Xi cracked one of those smiles that was like the dawn—inevitable, transformative, and she whispered, “I don’t want to admit how happy that makes me.”
Her response brought a smile to my own lips. “It feels good to be myself, even if it’s only with you.”
Xiomara squeezed my hand in return, and it was...everything. Nothing like the comforting, brotherly feel of holding Stefon’s hand. The contact jerked me right back into my own body, and I was feeling itall. My heart raced, my skin tingled, and every nerve ending was on red alert for what could possibly come next.
“Should we go check out the festival?” she asked.
I looked down at our hands, terrified of losing what I was feeling in this moment. “Honestly?”
“Yeah?”
“I’d rather be somewhere with you.” If we were at the festival, there would be so much pressure. So much worry about how people saw us. I wanted to explore this with her, without the wandering and assuming eyes of others.
The flush on her cheeks was just as cute as her smile. “I have an idea where we can go.”
“Yeah?”
Her stomach growled in response, and I laughed, all the tension releasing from my chest like a stream of tiny bubbles.
“Let’s get some food first.”
She put in a to-go order at Waldo’s Diner, saying she had been planning on festival food for lunch, and I got a milkshake and fries to have with her. But after that, our destination was a mystery.
When we arrived at the restaurant, she went inside to pick up the order, declining my offer to help pay. Without her, my car felt so much emptier than before. Being around Xi was natural, in a way completely different to hanging out with Stefon. I liked the way little strands of hair fell around her face—liked the way she snuck glances at me when she thought I wasn’t watching.
As she walked out the door, the sun caught her eyes, her hair, and she smiled at me through my windshield. Why had I never noticed how special her smiles were? Had I really never looked her way, or had I kept myself from doing so for fear of what I’d find? What I’d feel?
She opened the door and got in, passing me a Styrofoam cup. “Chocolate, as promised.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking a drink. It was so good. “Now we just need some plovornes to go with it.”
Xi giggled.
“What?” I asked.
“It’spolvorones,” she said, slowing down each syllable. Watching her full lips form the word was far too distracting. “Try it.”
“Pol—” I tried.
“Vo,” she encouraged.
I copied after her until she wore a satisfied smile. “Not quite native, but I’ll take it,” she said.
I laughed. “I knew I should have chosen Spanish instead of French.”
“Spanish would be much less useful in Paris. Your family went there after graduation, right?”
How did she know that? Had she been paying attention to me all this time? The thought was...flattering.
