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I stared at her, stalling at the top of the stairs with a surprised smile on my lips. “You were watching me?”
“How could I not?” She squeezed my hand. “You have a tendency to draw the eyes. I just never knew anything could be possible between us.”
I was silent, taking it in. Wondering just how long she had noticed me. How long we could have been holding hands before now.
“Did you ever notice me?” she asked shyly.
I reached up, carefully tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t. Because if I looked too long, I wouldn’t have been able to keep up the act. You’re magnetic, Xiomara Muñoz.”
She shivered slightly against my touch. “I’m having trouble staying away myself.”
“Then kiss me,” I said, my voice blending with the wind.
Even in the dim lighting, the surprise was clear on her face. “Here? With everyone walking by?”
I nodded. Dancing with her in public was one thing, but to stand here, on the steps of my old high school where I had spent so much time hiding parts of myself… A kiss with Xiomara felt like poetic justice. Like destiny. LikeAd Meliora.
She stepped closer, the tulle of her dress brushing against my bare legs. And then her hand reached to my cheek.
Our eyes locked. One final chance to back away.
But I leaned in, kissing her exactly the way I wanted to. Long, slow, tender, and absolutely carefree of who would see us and what they would think.
I was never going back. Only forward, and hopefully with this beautiful girl at my side.
Twenty-Seven
Xiomara
Kiyanaand I parted just long enough to walk to her car, and since I didn’t want my parents to see us fogging the windows, I asked her to drive. To where, I had no idea.
She didn’t want me at her house with her homophobic grandparents around, and the last thing I needed was my parents smothering us with their support. I loved them, but nothing stopped sparks from flying like snacks hand-delivered to your room at one in the morning.
Kiyana glanced at me with a smile. “I have an idea.”
I knew we both liked surprises, so I sat quietly beside her, listening to her upbeat music and holding her hand as she drove away from the school.
Several minutes later, she parked in the empty lot to Emerson Trails and glanced over to me. “Care to attend the festival as my date?”
I let out a laugh. “Everything is taken down already.”
“We can pretend.”
“Sure,” I said, getting out of the car. Kiyana went to the trunk and pulled out a blanket she kept there, and we walked in our dresses toward the dimly lit sidewalk. I shucked my heels to make walking down the sloping grass easier, and Kiyana did the same, slipping her sandal straps through her fingers.
“What was it like earlier?” she asked. “At the festival?”
I pointed to the spot where the inflatable slide had been. “There was a massive inflatable there. Someone stood at the top passing out gunny sacks, and then we’d slide down on our bellies. It was tall enough to be fun but not too tall to be scary.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “And you didn’t trip?”
I stuck my tongue out at her, and she laughed.
“Ollie, Birdie’s stepson, had a stand over there selling plants and rainbow roses. He says if you cut the stems and put them in different colored water, the colors will come up to the petals.”
“They sound beautiful,” Kiyana said.
“They were.” I found myself wishing I would have gotten one for her, regardless of how things worked out. “And then of course there was a food truck selling funnel cakes, and this place called Seaton Bakery had the most delicious confetti cupcakes with rainbow frosting and little pride flags.”
