Page 56 of Kissing is the Easy Part

Beside me, Madison says, “Let’s all go see a movie later.” She’s extending this date for my sake, and she goes as far as suggesting a horror film, which she normally hates.

“I thought you only watched movies with subtitles,” Jake says.

“I feel like watching a scary movie today,” Madison says. It’s an excuse for me to grab onto Sean. “I’ll cover your eyes when the scary parts come on. Like when the blond jock gets killed in the first five minutes, mid-hookup.”

“Unless the prom queen beats him to the punch and dies first,” Jake dishes back.

Sean clears his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I have to catch up on homework and be home for dinner.”

“God, you’re such a good kid,” Jake says. “Do you say thank you to your homework too?”

“Always,” Sean says. “Anyway, I can’t go. You guys have fun.”

Madison and I exchange a look, and she shrugs. Nothing throws her off. “That’s okay. Hey, can we stop by your place real quick? Lindsey wants to burrow my curling iron, and I have it right here.” She taps the strap of her backpack.

“I can give it to her for you,” Sean says.

Madison tilts her head. “And you’re going to show her how to use it too?”

* * *

Everything goes exactly as Madison envisioned. She stays in Lindsey’s room with me until dinner and leaves the second Sean’s mom invites us to stay. Now I’m sitting at their dining table, one big happy family, while soft jazz drifts from a speaker in the corner. The whole room feels cozy, like a house that’s always had people to fill it.

Sean’s mom beams at me as I ask if there’s anything I can help with. “No, we’re just happy to have you.”

Sean’s dad sets a basket of bread in front of me. “I hear you’re working on a history project with Sean and Josie?”

“It’s a lot of fun. I didn’t think I’d ever enjoy a school project, but I got lucky with my partners.”

Sean raises an eyebrow. “I’m recording this.”

His mom laughs. “I’m glad you’re having fun. Get my son to relax a little! He works too hard. We even talked him out of taking AP World History. Surely a 4.72 weighted GPA is enough?”

His dad grins. “Yeah, the day he got an A- in German was the darkest day in this family. We almost held a vigil.”

Sean frowns. “I need to show I can handle a tough course load.”

How does Lindsey feel about having a brother like Sean? It must be exhausting, living in the shadow of his perfect grades. There was definitely a faint twinge of jealousy when Jeremy won the state debating championship, even though I’m not supposed to compete with him. Maybe it’s the same for her, constantly trying to measure up to the untouchable golden child.

“Lindsey’s the creative one in this family.” Sean’s mom lifts a fork of mashed potatoes to her mouth. “She writes the best stories.”

“They’re not bad,” Sean agrees. “My favorite is the one about the Everest expedition.” He glances at me and explains, “It’s a survival story with supernatural elements and psychological tension. Gets dark fast.”

“Mine’s ‘The Road Trip.’” His dad gets up, opens a drawer, and pulls out a handful of mismatched takeout napkins and tosses them onto the table. “I keep wondering what happens to those kids.”

“That one’s ominous too. Messes with your head,” Sean says to me, catching me up, and my heart melts a little. Kindness like that is underrated; it sneaks up on you.

“I love a good psychological thriller,” I say.

“It’s not that great.” Lindsey’s face flushes against her dark ringlets. “I have these stories in my head sometimes, and I must get them on paper.”

“I love reading all your writing.” Sean’s mom smiles.

My stomach churns, even though the food is delicious. Somewhere on earth, people eat dinner with their parents every night—parents who read their work and know everything about the courses they’re taking.

“You guys really lucked out with these two,” I say, and they laugh.

“Well, we never have to worry much about Linz.” Sean’s dad fills his glass with tap water. “But Sean has his cranky teenager moments. Remember how bitter and cynical you were in middle school?”