“Then no. Because Brian McConnell was pretty handsy back in preschool.”
“Okay, fine. Your first kiss after you turned twelve.”
I screwed my eyes shut in embarrassment. “Yes,” I admitted. But when I opened my eyes again, Jesse was still staring at me. “Okay, you can stop doing that now,” I told him.
“I like looking at you,” he replied. “I like kissing you, too.”
“You do?”
He nodded and leaned in again.
We pulled apart after another few minutes. “You know what?” I whispered. My arms were looped around his neck so I could rest my forehead against his. Sometimes it amazes me, all the things that can happen in a single evening.
“What?”
“Second kisses are even better than first kisses.”
“Wait until you get to the third one.”
I was about to find out when Jesse’s phone suddenly started buzzing, jolting both of us back onto the step. “Shit,” he whispered, glancing at the screen. “It’s my dad. I’m late. Shit.”
I looked at the clock on his phone: 2:02. “Wow,” I said. “It’s tomorrow.”
“Yeah, guess so.” He tapped out a message to his dad before tucking the phone away. “C’mon, let’s get a cab.”
I held his hand as we walked to the corner. “God, your fingers are freezing,” I told him. “Do you want your coat back?”
“Nope.” He held out his free arm and a cab slipped up to the curb, Celine Dion blasting from the radio. “After you,” Jesse said. “Celine insists. Loudly.”
The cab’s heater was running full blast, making it feel like we were stuck in a moving hair dryer, and I scooted across the cracked pleather seat to make room for Jesse. “Just so you kids know,” the cab driver announced over his shoulder, “I charge a—”
“Fifty-dollar cleaning fee, yes, we know,” Jesse interrupted him.
“Good thing Roux’s not here,” I said as we lurched away from the curb.
“For many reasons, yes.”
I was sort of tempted to kiss him again, but I was afraid the cab driver had a ten-dollar surcharge for making out, so I settled for continuing to hold Jesse’s hand. “You know what I like about cabs?” I murmured as I leaned against his shoulder. “They move fast.”
Jesse laughed a little. “What, do you normally travel by horse and wagon?”
“No, I mean that usually in New York, you walk everywhere, right? But when you’re in a cab, it’s like flying.”
“Unless there’s gridlock. Plus the subway moves way faster.”
“True. But then we wouldn’t get to be serenaded by Celine.”
“And that would be tragic.”
The cab driver suddenly braked, sending both Jesse and me into the plastic divider that separated the backseat from the front. “We also wouldn’t get facial contusions if we were on the subway,” Jesse muttered as he settled himself back in his seat.
“It’s part of the experience,” I reassured him. “There should be a Dramamine dispenser back here.”
By the time the cab pulled up in front of my apartment, we were both white-knuckling the door handles. “Is this where you live?” he asked, peering up at my building through the window. “I live just around the corner. Crazy.”
“Yeah, totally random,” I said, then climbed out of the cab before my face could give away how nonrandom it was. The air outside was crisp and cold, but it felt icy against my flushed cheeks, and it was just starting to hit me: not only had I kissed a boy, but I had been lying to him the entire time.
Jesse paid the driver and followed me up to the front door. “This is fine,” I said, rushing my words. “I can make it from here, I’m good.”
“I had fun,” he said. “Keep that ring safe.”
I smiled and glanced down at my Ring Pop, which was still ridiculous. “I’ll treasure it forever,” I promised. “Cross my heart.”
He smiled and leaned in again, kissing me so hard that it left me a little breathless. “I’m really glad I met you,” he whispered. “Seriously.”
“Me, too,” I whispered back. “More seriously.”
“Have a good night. Happy Halloween.”
“Halloween’s over,” I reminded him. “It’s November first now.”
“Ah, you’re right. Guess you’re not a spy anymore.”
I smiled at him, but my heart felt like someone was squeezing the blood out of it. “Right,” I said. “Good night.”
Inside the elevator, I took a huge deep breath and leaned against the wall. “Oh my God,” I whispered to myself. “You just made out with a guy. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” Three months ago, I couldn’t even make eye contact with the neighbor boy, and now I was making out with a guy? Talk about overachieving.
I entered the code to our front door and opened it carefully. My parents were probably sleeping and I didn’t want to—
“Where have you been?”
Both my mom and my dad were standing in the kitchen, arms folded, staring at me. I hadn’t seen them look that angry since … well, ever.
“Oh, hi,” I said. “I can explain.”
Chapter 13
“Do you have any idea how worried we were?!”
The confrontation had moved from the front door into the kitchen, where I could see remnants of my dad’s stress eating habit: a crust of toast and a smear of jelly on a plate next to his open laptop. Not a good sign.