I snatch my phone off my pillow. I did promise to text him, didn’t I? Just a quick conversation, and then I’ll go to sleep.
Me
Hey! Just got home.
Zayne
Glad to hear it
Me
Did I wake you up?
Zayne
No. I wasn’t sleeping. Are you going to sleep?
I hesitate before responding. Staying awake means texting him. Texting him means discussingus.Because how can we not? After all, we did kiss tonight. I don’t know what that means.
But I want to find out.
Me
I’m not tired. Guess what?
Zayne
What?
Me
Can I call you?
For some reason, the conversation I’m about to have with him feels too important to text. There’s too much to say. I answer the phone when it vibrates, my stomach bubbling with nerves. “Hey.”
“Hi.” His voice is hushed, like mine.
I imagine Beau on the other side of my bedroom door, his ear pressed against the wood. I get off my bed and go sit in my closet because it feels safer, harder for my voice to carry. “I’m guessing you saw what Little Birdie posted.”
“Yeah. Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Don’t worry. No one actually believes you attacked Carlton. And if I have to, I’ll be a witness!”
He laughs at my enthusiasm. “Thanks, Dot. I appreciate that.”
We’re both quiet for a beat, and then I say, “Can you believe the play is two weeks away?”
There’s a pause. I can somehow sense his amusement through the phone. “Come on, Dot. I know you want to talk about us. About the kiss.”
My mind strays from my conversation with Dad as I remember the burning kisses Zayne rained on my mouth tonight. I blush, grateful that he can’t see my face. “We don’t have to talk about us. Not if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind.” His voice is like a caress. “I think it’s time we set the record straight, if anything.”
My heart speeds up. I press the phone closer to my ear. “What do you mean?”
Another long pause. And then, “I really like you, Dot.”
I can’t help the smile my lips form. “You mean, you don’t kiss all your friends like that?”
