Page 72 of The Summer List

What if I lose whatever it is we do have because I was stupid enough to ask for more?

“Hey.” She leans closer, her forehead creasing as she rests her hand on my knee. “You okay?”

My mom said I should just tell her. She said I have nothing to lose, and I agreed at the time, but staring into Andrea’s eyes now, I’m not so sure.

“Yeah, I, um…”

Her eyes are as huge as two new moons in the summer sky.

My mouth drops open, ready to tell her everything.

Slap.

I gasp and jerk back when her fingertips smack against my cheek.

“Sorry!” she shrieks before pressing her hand to her mouth. “There was a mosquito on your face! I’m so sorry. It was reflex. Are you okay?”

It was more of a pat than a slap. My cheek doesn’t even sting, and as I watch her continue gawking at me in horror, I can’t help it.

I burst out laughing.

“You maniac,” I tease as she starts to chuckle too.

“It was a huge one!” she protests. “Trust me, you did not want that thing biting your face.”

We laugh together for a few moments, but when we’ve calmed down and she asks what I was going to say, I know I’m not going to tell her tonight.

I want to tell her without any lingering doubts swarming me like a hoard of mosquitoes, and I don’t know how to make that happen yet.

“Oh, right. I have news from Priya,” I say instead, the deck creaking underneath me as I pull my knees up to my chest. “She found an open mic night happening on Saturday.”

“Oh, cool.”

There’s a questioning note in Andrea’s voice, like she can tell that’s not what I wanted to say, but she lets it go and gets to her feet before picking her guitar up by the neck.

“That’s soon,” she says while I scramble to stand up too. “I better get practicing.”

“You’ll play guitar?” I ask as we head for the house.

She nods. “Mhmm. And what delightful talent will you be entertaining the crowd with?”

I double-check the cats aren’t prowling around the kitchen before I pull the door open for us.

“Oh, um, I was thinking I’d pick one of my favourite poems to read,” I say once we’re both inside. “I don’t know if that’s a talent per se, but as you can probably guess, I’m not really the public speaking type, so it’s going to be a pretty big deal…for me, at least.”

She tilts her head and smiles, and I’m surer than ever that I don’t want to wave goodbye forever to that smile at the end of the month.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” she says. “Which poem?”

I huff a laugh. “That’s the question. I have a lot of favourite poems.”

She steps closer until we’re almost chest to chest. My heart thunders in my ears.

“Has anyone ever told you how cute you are?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer before she kisses me. The brush of her lips on mine is soft at first, but when I gasp against her, they press harder. My knees shake, and I’m about to reach for her waist when she pulls back.

“Damn, Naomi, you almost made me drop my guitar.”

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