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As much as I want to comfort her, I know she’s right. Everything she’s saying has been living like a gremlin under my bed for about as long as I can remember, but I don’t have the first idea what to do about it.
“I mean, have you ever even kissed a boy?” Her question hits like a bolt of lightning, and my whole body flinches.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not a complicated question, Abby,” she says sarcastically. “Have you ever kissed a boy?”
“Have you,” I fire back, hoping to deflect the embarrassment I feel over the answer being no.
“I kissed Joey Preston in the drama club’s production ofMidsummer Night’s Dreamlast spring, but that hardly counts.”
“I haven’t even had that,” I mumble in spite of myself.
“See? Do you really want to be the girl who goes to college without even having her first kiss?”
“I don’t know.” I squirm and hug my knees to my chest. “It’s not like I want to run out and kiss any old guy just to check it off the list. I want my first kiss to be special.”
“Me too,” Brooke moans. “I’d like to get a real one instead of a clammy, close-mouthed kiss in a play from a wiener like Joey Preston. Ugh.”
She shudders dramatically, and we share a laugh that breaks a little bit of the tension.
Even so, I can’t get away from the fact that she’s absolutely right. A first kiss is just one example of all the ways we’ve basically been hiding away from life, but it’s a pretty spot-on choice.
That said, it’s something that feels like it should be easy to solve, right? I meant what I said about wanting it to be special, and a sparkly little fire in my gut tells me that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt who I want to share that special moment with.
Chapter Four
ABBY—FRESHMAN YEAR AT BRIGHTWOOD HIGH SCHOOL
“Alright, class.” Mrs. Harbison claps her hands at the front of the room, and just from the tone in her voice, I know I want the floor to open up and swallow me, desk and all. “We’re going to get to know each other by partnering up for this first project.”
Nooooo!
“SinceThe Odysseyis first up from your summer reading list, I want everyone to find one person to buddy up with, and between the two of you, I’d like you to come up with a subject that illuminates a figure inThe Odysseybeyond Odysseus himself. Off you go.”
The room descends into chaos, and I squeeze myself as low in my desk as I can, stopping just shy of pulling my hood up to disappear in earnest. Maybe if nobody picks me, I can work alone as a fluke. My mind races to remember how many people are in the class, calculating my chances there is an odd number.
“Hey,” a voice says beside me. “It’s Abigail, right?”
I look up, and my heart somehow manages to lock up and take off at the same time. Standing before me is the most gorgeous boy I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life. We’re talking light brown hair, a Superman jawline, and a pair of green eyes a girl could tip into and never swim out of again. He’s wearing a football jersey like a badge of honor, and I’m staggered by how the school name looks emblazoned across his improbably wide chest.
“Yeah,” I reply, surprised to find I’m able to make words at all.
“I’m Hunter.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it, marveling at the sight of him. All I can think is that he must have transferred from another district because there’s no way I would have made it to high school without noticing him earlier.
Evidently, I’m just staring at him like an idiot because he leans back.
“What do you say—” Cocking his head to the side and holding out his hands like he’s presenting the craziest idea on the planet—which it just might be.
“Okay,” my mouth says before my brain can send the signal for it to shut up. To my utter shock, he looks genuinely pleased and drags a chair over.
“Sweet,” he says as he flops down beside me and folds his hands loosely on my desk.
Stealing a glance around the room, I search out the only other guy wearing a jersey—Tyler Dranch. By rights, shouldn’t these two be partnered up instead of this Greek god hitting up a girl like me?
“Can I ask you something?” I’ve asked before I can catch myself, and my attention snaps back to find Hunter sitting back, lazy as a cat.
“Shoot.”
