Page 103 of Kissing is the Easy Part

“What are you doing?” His breath is warm on my face, and as usual he smells of soap and fabric softener.

“Isn’t this fun?”

It takes him a moment to recover, but he kisses me back. My hand moves over his chest, and beneath my fingers, his heart pounds. He makes a small sound between a sigh and a groan, and at that, all my reserves fly out the storage closet.

He’ssexier than a crime. My hand slides past his flat stomach, thrilled with what I find. “You like this.”

He removes my hand. “Yeah, but that’s enough. Let’s go before anyone finds us.”

“Comeon.” I kiss him again, fingers trailing along his neck to his collar. I fumble with the first button on his shirt.

“No.”

I start on the second button, wanting to kiss his collarbone, but Sean pulls away.

“No,” he says more firmly this time, and pushes me off him. In the dim light slipping under the door, he straightens his shirt, putting space between us.

The spell shatters, and humiliation creeps in fast. “What’s wrong with you?” My voice comes out shriller than I intend.

“What’s wrong withyou? We don’t have to sneak around like this.”

“We’re not doing anything wrong.”

He exhales, and the faint light is enough to catch the hint of exasperation on his face. His tone remains neutral, but there’s an air of icy annoyance. “I’m opening the door now, okay?”

He turns the knob. Light washes over me like a bucket of ice water. He takes my wrist and pulls me outside. “Let’s go to lunch.”

“No.” I plant my feet, staring at him. I should drop this. I don’t even know what I want from him. But I can’t move.

Sean sighs. “I don’t want to get caught. It’s bad for your image.”

“How’s that bad for myimage?”

“Well, you’re a girl, and people are judgmental toward girls. They—”

“I was kissing myboyfriend.” My voice spikes.

“But you know how people are. Give them the slightest material and they’ll run with it. Especially when it comes to you.” He stops, swallows, then reaches for my arm. “Come on, I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

I shake him off. “What does that mean? What do people say about me?”

“Nothing. I meant you’re the center of attention, that’s all.”

“Tell me.”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“You promised you’d tell me everything!”

He hesitates, then finally says, “Just that . . . you dated around. There are implications. And lots of graffiti in the boys’ locker room.” His voice is low, but it explodes on my eardrums.

A sharp heat shoots up my nose, like vinegar. Sean’s name is written in the girls’ locker room, too, but his comes with hearts. I have a pretty good idea which body part is scrawled next to mine.

“Boys are filthy,” Sean says. “They fantasize about you and attack you. It’s not your fault.”

“I may have gone out with some people, but nothing happened!”

“I know, baby. I know. I don’t believe any of it.”