If We Kiss by Rachel Vail Read Free Book Online

Kevin’s father and looked down at the girl whose hand he was holding, and said, “You must be Samantha.”
    The girl nodded and held out her hand to shake Mom’s. “Nice to meet you,” she said.
    Mom gave her a broad smile. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” My mother who prides herself on being cool and laid-back is such a sucker for manners. She shook Samantha’s outstretched hand. “My name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Reese.”
    Samantha turned to me and held out her hand. She had very few teeth, I noticed—one biggie in front surrounded by lots of space, which would make her, I guessed, about eight.
    I shook her hand, feeling like a complete dork. I have never shaken hands with a kid before.
    “Nice to meet you . . .”
    “Charlie,” I told her. “Hi. Um, nice to meet you, too.”
    We were at the door of Mad Alice’s by then. Kevin’s father held it open for us all. I noticed Kevin was giving his father a quizzical look like what is wrong with you? They’d been ahead of us in line, after all, and now he was, like, shepherding us in all as one group. But Kevin’s father made a goofball face at Kevin and then smiled again at my mother, who blushed.
    Blushed. I am not even kidding. Her cheeks turned bright red.
    “What would you like, Charlie?” she asked.
    “What?”
    She pointed at the glass case in front of us. “Ice cream?”
    I had lost my appetite. I mean, okay, Kevin’s father is pretty hot for somebody old, for a dad. He has broad shoulders and sort of floppy brown hair and the same dark blue eyes as Kevin, except deeper set and in sort of a broader face. I could see how someone might argue this was a blushable thing, having this man smile at you so much and, I think, maybe even touch your back between your shoulder blades. I definitely think he did that. I had an obstructed view, it is true, as a journalist I have to admit that, but I do think that is exactly what he did: touched her on her back between her shoulder blades so lightly that he caused a chemical reaction that turned her cheeks bright red.
    My mother .
    “Charlie?”
    “Um,” I stalled. “Still thinking.”
    “Kevin?” his dad prompted.
    “What? Um, I don’t know yet. You go.”
    Samantha ordered lemon sorbet with butterscotch chips.
    “Ew,” Kevin and I both said at the same time.
    My turn to blush. My family might be allergic to the Lazarus family.
    I ordered fudge swirl with nonpareils mushed into it. Kevin had coffee with chocolate chips, which actually sounded even better than mine but no way was I copying. Mom got a mango sorbet cone, and Kevin’s father said that sounded so good, he’d have the same.
    As if Mom had invented the mango sorbet cone herself.
    Mom paid for mine and hers, and Kevin’s dad paid for his family’s. That was a relief, at least. We all walked out together.
    “Well,” said Mom.
    “Well,” said Kevin’s father.
    They smiled at each other. Again. It was getting gross already.
    “I’ve had enough,” I said, and tossed the rest of my ice cream in the trash. Too bad if it is ridiculously expensive, and there is no reason to waste food. I was nearly puking on the sidewalk.
    “Me, too,” said Kevin, and tossed his in after mine.
    We stood there for about an eternity, me, Kevin, and the garbage can. I tried to think of one thing in the world to say to him. I am normally pretty good at chatting.
    “So,” I said.
    He didn’t say anything so I looked up at him to see if he was busy doing something else. He looked up from the sidewalk at me at the same moment.
    “Your sister seems . . .” I ran out of breath midsentence. That never happened to me before. It distracted me and then the pause was too huge and instead of finishing with, like, “nice,” “smart,” or “sweet,” the three choices I’d been considering—I made a strange hiccuping/burping sound.
    Kevin smiled. “You think?”
    “Not that often,” I answered.
    “Was that a burp?”
    “No!” I laughed. “No. It was