If We Kiss by Rachel Vail Read Free Book Online Page A

a, just a, I don’t know.”
    He nodded.
    “A burp,” I admitted falsely. “A small burp.”
    He laughed.
    “She seems very smart.”
    “Yeah. She is.”
    He was still smiling. Maybe he likes burpy girls. I lifted my chin to show him, subtly, my good asset, in case he was reevaluating my worth in light of that newly discovered burping-noise aptitude.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “Why?”
    “Is something wrong with your head?”
    “Why?”
    “You just, never mind. I thought maybe you got a stiff neck at newspaper or something.”
    “No,” I said, tipping my chin down. “I’m on City News staff,” I added, to cover the fact that my head was bobbling, trying to get to a normal position. I could not seem to remember how it was supposed to balance on my neck.
    “I’m on Features,” Kevin said. “It’s fun, when you get used to it.”
    “Yeah?” This was the longest conversation I’d ever had with him and I was making myself nauseous with my unsteady skull. I rested my hand on the garbage can for balance.
    “Stick with it,” he said quietly. “You’ll see.”
    To avoid grabbing him and demanding to have another shot at kissing, I glanced over at Samantha and the adults. She was sitting on a bench and they were chatting near her. Mom’s chin was tipped up. I squinted to get a look at her neck. It was long and graceful; I’d never noticed hers before either.
    Do boys even like necks? Mr. Lazarus looked pretty happy over there.
    Some scary-looking scruffy guys, who hang out on the Bridge at the front entrance to the high school, wandered slowly past me and Kevin, checking us out like they knew something about us. I hate when high school boys walk like that, leading with their scruffy-haired chins and coming too close to you, like they own everything. They act so entitled and scary, with their unbrushed hair and untucked shirts. I know that makes me sound horribly prudish and uncool, but the fact is, I am at heart prudish and uncool. I had a fleeting impulse to rush over and slip my hand into Mom’s, for safety. Luckily I stopped myself.
    Kevin just looked away, as if he were really fascinated by the stop sign down Hallowell Road. It occurred to me that the older boys might have been a little intimidating to him, too, which should have made me think he was a wimp but in fact made me like him that much more. There is nothing like silent vulnerability to make a girl crazy, as Tess has told me a million times. Another of her many theories I didn’t understand, until very recently.
    When the scruffy guys turned the corner, Kevin said, “So.” It came out kind of high and squeaky. He repeated, “So,” in a very, overly, deep voice. I smiled and at that exact moment, Mom and Kevin’s father and sister came over.
    “Should we go?” Mom asked.
    I nodded.
    “Nice to meet you,” Samantha said, and started another round of hand-shaking.
    “I’m a kid,” I told her.
    “I know,” she said.
    “So we should just, like, stand here awkwardly and say bye, and then, like, wait impatiently for the adults to finish shaking hands.”
    My mother found this hilarious, apparently, because she laughed a really loud snorting laugh, and Kevin’s father cracked up, too.
    “Okay,” Samantha said. “Bye.” She arranged her legs into an awkward stance and stood there watching the adults with an impatient expression souring her face.
    “Much better,” I said.
    “Thank you,” she said, and smiled a smile so crushingly similar to Kevin’s I had to look at him to compare. He wasn’t smiling, though. He may have kind of waved, or else maybe there was a mosquito near his head.
    Neither Mom nor I said anything in the car, and when we got home I went right upstairs. I heard Mom out on the deck, probably reading, drinking a glass of wine. She came up a while later. I was lying on my bed.
    She flipped off my light and said good night.
    “Mom,” I said.
    She leaned against my door frame and waited. She looked really