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And then I lose my balance. My bike tips over, crashing against Quint’s. I nearly go down with it, but he catches me by the shoulders. We haven’t even caught our breath before we’re laughing.

“Okay, we should probably go,” he says. He gives me one more kiss, quick, chaste, but promising more to come. Soon. I hope. Then he stands me back up and swings one leg over his bike before he can change his mind.

I do the same. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

I wink at him. “Sweet dreams.”

Then I kick off and start pedaling, my heart soaring in my chest, my brain addled and fogged, but my whole body humming with energy. I’m delirious, but happy. I laugh all the way home.

FORTY-ONE

I fall asleep immediately, barely taking the time to greet my family and throw my damp, gross clothes into the laundry and put on some pajamas, before collapsing onto my bed. I wake up to Jude shaking my shoulder.

“Pru, Mom says you should get up.”

I groan and toss my arm over my eyes. “What for?”

“Because if you keep sleeping, you’ll never go to bed tonight, and your sleep schedule will be screwed up for all eternity.”

I wrinkle my nose.

“Or at least, like, a week. Come on, you’ve been napping for four hours.”

“Still sleepy.”

“You’ll survive. Want some lunch?”

Ooooh, lunch.My stomach rumbles, answering for me.

Jude nods knowingly. “I’ll set out some sandwich stuff.” He starts to walk backward toward the door, before giving me the I’m-watching-you gesture, fingers to his eyes, then back at me. “Don’t go back to sleep.”

“I won’t. I’m up. I’m getting up. Fine.”

It still takes me a few minutes to pull myself from the cozy blankets. I grab my phone, which I dropped on my desk when I got home, but the battery is still dead. Oops. I plug it in, and check my watch. It’s almost noon.

I stretch my back. Rub my eyes. Throw my bathrobe on over my pajamas.I’m tying the robe’s belt when last night crashes into me with the force of a bulldozer.

Quint.

And Quint’s kisses.

And Quint’s words.

And Quint’s smiles.

And Quint’s arms.

And… am I dating Quint Erickson?

We didn’t talk aboutdatingorboyfriend-girlfriendor anything official like that. But how could we not be official? We even had our first date. Because, in hindsight,Jawswas definitely a date.

I wonder what he’s doing right now. Sleeping? Dreaming? About me and my red lipstick? My heart jolts to think of it.

I can’t wait to see him again. I want to call him, but we’ve never exchanged numbers, and I’m not about to call the center and ask Rosa for it.

We’re both working tomorrow. I’ll have to suffer until then.