Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
My stomach tightens thinking about it. Why don’t I want his kisses?
Maybe if Anderson would have kissed me somewhere more private, I wouldn’t feel so reluctant. I certainly wasn’t reluctant or cold when Hunter kissed me in my bedroom. Maybe I’m just not into PDA.
Yeah, that’s probably it.
Even as I think it, I’m not convinced. I know that kiss with Hunter has lived in my memory for so long, I may have made some unintended revisions on it, but thinking of it still brings a flush to my cheeks, and it happened four years ago.
Hunter has the most perfect lips. Kissing him felt so much different. So much more meaningful.
I shake my head, trying to drop thoughts like that. They make me feel guilty. I shouldn’t even be comparing the quick pecks Anderson has given me with the tender, emotionally charged kiss I got from Hunter.
Maybe Anderson doesn’t kiss like Hunter, but he doesn’t hurt like him, either.
I fight the temptation to look at Hunter again and keep my attention where it’s supposed to be as I make small talk about the school day with Anderson and Sara. I figure he might ask me questions I’m not excited for if Sara and I stop talking, so we don’t. Sara hasn’t spent much time with Anderson yet. Now that school is back in session, we’ll all see a lot more of each other, but for now, she takes advantage of the opportunity to get to know him and I encourage it, figuring as long as they’re talking about nothing, he can’t ask me about Hunter.
“Favorite Disney movie?” she asks, dipping her plastic spoon into her fruit cup.
Anderson pops a fry into his mouth. “Lion King.”
“Best pizza topp—”
Before she can further quiz him, someone walks up to our table and steals all the words from her head.
Only one person can do that.
I glance up at Wally Kazinsky. His dark hair’s shorter this year—he buzzed it over the summer, so it’s just starting to grow back out. Like Anderson and Hunter, he’s wearing his letter jacket even though it’s a hot day.
“Hi,” Sara says, failing to contain her wonder.
I sigh to myself. Wally is much better-looking now than he was as a gawky tween, and she was thoroughly hung up on him even then. I didn’t at all understand what she saw in him when we were in middle school. I still don’t, really. He’s handsome, I guess, but I still don’t think there’s anything special about him.
Sara can’t be convinced, even though I’m still not sure he knows her name.
He lifts his chin in bland acknowledgment. “What’s up?” Without giving her a chance to get the mistaken impression he cares about a response, he shifts his gaze to Anderson. “You lost, Milner? Our table’s over there,” he says, pointing back at Hunter’s table.
“Oh, yeah, I saw. No, I actually figured I’d sit with my girlfriend today. First day and all.”
“How cute,” he says, his tone making it clear he doesn’t find it cute. “Well, maybe you should reconsider. Hunter had catering brought in for all of us to celebrate his first day back. It’s a lot better than this crap,” he says, making a dismissive gesture toward the tray full of standard cafeteria fare.
“Can I get catering for them, too?”
Wally looks from Sara to me, his gaze cooling when it hits my face, then he looks back at Anderson. “No.”
“Then I’m all right,” Anderson says.
Wally smiles, but it’s a smile that says he’s losing his patience. Placing a hand on Anderson’s shoulder and squeezing, he leans down. “Maybe I’m not making myself clear. You can’t sit with them.”
Anderson stares at him, not defiantly, just confused. “Why not?”
Wally licks his lip and chuckles, looking down. “You haven’t heard about—”
“Anderson,” I interrupt, before Wally can tell him something I haven’t had a chance to yet. “Just… go. They’re your teammates, it’s the first day of a new school year. You should sit with them.”
Anderson frowns at me. “I should?”
“There’s catering,” I say brightly.
“Who cares?”
“Please go,” I say, pleading with my eyes. “I told you they probably wouldn’t like you sitting with me. It’s not worth it.”
“I don’t understand,” he says, shaking his head.
“You don’t need to understand,” Wally assures him, giving him a pat on the back. “Up. Let’s go.”
Anderson frowns at me, but since I’m shooing him away instead of hoping he’ll stay, he grabs his tray and stands.
“Well… I guess I’m gonna go sit with them.”
I nod my head. “Have fun.”
I watch them walk away together, two broad-shouldered letter jackets heading back toward the popular table where they both belong. Wally grabs Anderson’s tray on the way and tosses the whole thing into a trash can. A lunch monitor has to dig the plastic tray out of the trash and haul it to the kitchen to be cleaned.