Read If We Kiss for Free Online

He heard me. I heard him breathe in.
    I looked down, away, for fear I might lose my head and kiss him, stick my tongue back in his mouth again, as disgusting as that is. Disgusting and yet, kind of wonderful. I was close enough to him to feel the heat of him, the change in the air temperature, near his head.
    We’re flirting, I realized. I am flirting with him and I swear he is flirting right back with me.
    I swallowed, squeezed my eyes shut, and forced myself to remember the actual reason I had called his name.
    “One other thing,” I said, my voice creaky. She is my best friend, I reminded myself again. But I admit this: I tilted my chin up, to give him a view of my neck, in case it actually was my best feature.
    He raised his eyebrows and waited.
    Please say no, I prayed. Please say no.
    “Do you, um,” I closed my eyes and finished fast: “Do you like Tess?”
    He didn’t say anything so I had to open my eyes and look at him. It is so unfair that his eyes are that color, like the lake in June.
    “Do you?” I repeated, softer.
    “Because I kissed her?” Kevin asked, his voice as quiet as mine.
    “Because,” I said, but I didn’t know because what. Because she likes you, you doink. Then softer, “Do you?” Say no! Say: I like you , Charlie.
    He didn’t answer. I could feel my rib cage moving. I must have been panting. Touch that strand of hair , I silently begged. I don’t know what I’ll tell Tess, who is my best friend in the world. But I want you—to like me, to choose me, to touch my hair, to kiss me—so much I can feel it, see it happening. . . .
    “Charlie,” he said.
    The bell rang. “What?”
    I have to tell Tess I like him, too, I realized. I have to just tell her I didn’t know I did, but I do. I like Kevin. And then there it would be and since we are best friends, always honest with each other, we would flip a coin for him or something.
    Mrs. Roderick was standing above me and Kevin. “If you two are done flirting, it is time for science,” she growled.
    Flirting, me—flirting while I was fixing him up with my best friend. Mrs. Roderick had just confirmed it. My head was spinning. What the heck was I doing? It made no sense. Flirting. It felt delicious, dizzy. It felt—powerful. Nobody had ever mentioned that aspect of it to me. It was almost, well, indescribable.
    “Almost done,” Kevin said, and flashed Mrs. Roderick that grin of his. She batted her eyelashes at him. Twice. Mrs. Roderick is like a hundred and fifty years old. Kevin must be like the magnetic north of flirtation.
    We headed toward our seats. Kevin sits behind me in bio. I was not about to try to steal him away from my best friend.
    Not that I could, anyway.
    Could I?
    When we got to my seat, I whispered to Kevin, “So, do you?”
    Kevin shrugged and whispered, “Sure,” as he passed by me.

eight
    TESS WAS WAITING for me after class. I said, He likes you. She kissed me on the forehead and whispered thanks . Two hours later she asked him out, and he said yes , the jerk.
    Fine. Just as well. Now I can move on with my life, concentrate on more important things. I was starting to annoy myself, honestly, all obsessed with a boy. I have always prided myself on not being a flirty girl. I have interests—well, not really, but I hope to develop some, and I probably have some talents that just haven’t had a chance to bloom yet. But anyway, I am not like the Pop-Tarts. They are all so sweet and smiley and trendy, it is hard to tell which is which. I used to know some of them but it’s increasingly difficult to tell them apart.
    I am not a flirty girl.
    I stayed for newspaper. Not because I wanted to be with Kevin, who has, in addition to dark blue eyes, a girlfriend—a girlfriend who is not only NOT me, but is my best friend, and besides, I remembered, I have a boyfriend, a very nice, smart, wonderful boyfriend, George. I went to newspaper because as someone mentioned, well, it was Kevin, I am a good writer and maybe