Page 96 of Kiss Collector
Cheers erupt as my hands go around his neck and his go around my waist. He smells just as heavenly as ever, even better because there is no tinge of cigarettes, and his mouth is hot on mine. His lips are just right. His tongue is soft but firm, not overpowering or underwhelming. His kiss is just like him—understated, poetic, sensual. I kinda sorta wish we weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people.
“Enough!” a teacher shouts, too closely, breaking Joel and me apart. “Clear out, everyone! Be safe! Have a good summer!” The coach makes his way closer to disperse the crowd and holds out a fist to Joel and Kwami, saying, “Nice lyrics.”
They both bump his knuckles and the teacher moves on.
Kwami looks at me and says, “Where’s my love?”
I go to hug him, and Joel pulls me to him, putting an arm around me. “Uh-uh, bro.”
Kwami laughs. “Man, you selfish.”
“I’ll hug you!” Kenzie says out of nowhere. She does, and Kwami picks her up like the pixie she is, making her laugh. She smiles at Joel, then me, and says, “See you at the car?”
“Yeah,” I say.
Kwami leaves us, too, and Joel takes his hand from around my shoulder, leaning against a locker.
“You could have told me,” I say quietly.
“You’re going away.” He looks down and puts his hands in his baggy jeans pockets.
“Yeah, but you haven’t talked to me since prom. You didn’t know I was going away then.”
He lifts his chin just enough to peer up at me guiltily.
“Wait...” I put a hand on my hip and pretend to be mad. “Did you look in my file?”
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Let’s just say Mrs. Crowley’s filing system is piling everything on her desk for the world to see. It wasn’t hard.”
I cross my arms as things suddenly feel more serious.
“You’re on the rise, girl. I’m not gonna hold you down. You’ve gotta build up that list of yours with Latino and Parisian names.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. He’ll never let me live down the stupid non-list.
“Zae,” he says gently. “You’re going. And I’m staying. Those are the facts.”
I take a deep breath, my blood pumping hard with nervousness. “I don’t have to be single when I go. People have long-distance relationships all the time.”
He gives his head a slow shake. “You should be single on this journey. It needs to be about you.”
I feel torn. He’s being selfless, willing to let me go, but am I willing to let him go? Leaving him behind feels like an opportunity lost. He makes me feel tingly and special and I want a future where I can kiss him every day.
I swallow hard. “How do you know what I need? I’ll be the judge of that.”
“You’ll be a changed woman when you get back, Zae. Your aspirations will probably be higher than me, and that’s a good thing.”
My lips purse with displeasure. “This trip’s not going to change who I am or turn me into a snob.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“Does this mean you won’t even write to me?” I’m shaking now, realizing I’m losing this great guy before I ever had him.
“If you want me to write you, Zae, I will write you every day.” He means it. His sincerity makes me inhale and let it out slowly, calming me down.
“How about this,” he says. “We’ll write. No pressure. Life happens. When you get back, if you still want to give it a go, I’ll be here. I ain’t going nowhere.”
“You might fall for another girl between now and then.” My stomach sours at the thought of him being there for some other girl, slipping her poems.
