Page 70 of The Kiss Class
My heart rate is already through the roof. Now, it plummets.
Girl of My Dreams: I’m packing up. It’s over.
Me: What do you mean?
We didn’t talk about this. She just up and left after everything?
Girl of My Dreams: I have a Christmas Market to save, a New Year’s party to attend, and a future with my knight in shining armor. What did you think I meant?
Me: The worst.
I drop back against the lockers, rattling them, as relief sweeps through me, then give her a summary of my visit to her father’s office.
Girl of My Dreams: Oh, um, that. I haven’t discussed us with him yet. Figured I’d take one thing at a time.
Me: So there is an us?
Cara doesn’t reply for five minutes. My heart creeps to a stop. Then it jolts when the phone rings. She explains that her phone died and that she’ll be back in two days for good, and this life change is entirely her choice.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with me?” I ask, partly relieved because I don’t want to be responsible if she resents quitting school and partly crushed for obvious reasons.
“Oh, you’re front and center, Arsenault.”
I chuckle.
“So there is still anus,” I ask, seeking reassurance.
“Very much so.”
“Badaszek said you don’t feel the same way.”
“As I said, I haven’t told him about us. But I will. I’m waiting until after the New Year’s party. He and my mom got married on New Year’s Eve, so it can be a tough night for him, you know?”
This means it’s time for me to work on those early New Year’s resolutions.
When Cara returns to Cobbiton,I ask her to meet me at the Fish Bowl. She’s not overly enthusiastic aboutthe location, but her mouth waters when she sees the “Stuffed Pub Potato Skin Pucks” I ordered for us that just came from the kitchen. Mine too when she sits down across from me, cheeks pink from the cold, big eyes bright, and lips . . .
I don’t know how I got so lucky.
“These are my favorite,” she says, digging in.
We chat for a few minutes, and then I discreetly clicksendon the message I had waiting.
Cara’s phone beeps, but she ignores it.
“Hey, are you going to check your phone?” I ask.
“Not when we’re finally back together. I missed you. The text can wait.”
“What if it’s important?”
“The most important thing is you . . . and these potato skins.” She takes another bite.
I chuckle and wonder how I can fix this unexpected problem. “Have you changed my contact info?”
She hesitates. “Yes, a few times.”
“So I’m not the Knight in Shining Armor anymore?”
