Tupper’s ginger hair was matted and his neat white shirt had come untucked. Roy wondered if he should remove Tupper’s shoes. He felt nervous leaving him there with Elizabeth. She was almost scarier asleep than awake. And what were they going to do with all that syrup?

Peaches and Stuart perched on the stoop to wait. It was a cool night. Peaches had left her jacket at the bar. She huddled against Stuart, not even thinking about whether or not it was okay.

“I love how everyone just came out and did their thing tonight.” She looked up at the stars and the sliver of moon and shivered. “Fuck, I’m cold.”

“We can go back,” Stuart said. He wanted to listen to Mandy sing. And then he wanted to walk her home and pay Shy Clarke for babysitting and get into the queen-size bed in the kitchen with Mandy and kiss her and tell her how good she looked and how glad he was that they were still together after all these years. He started to stand up.

“Wait.” Peaches tugged on the back of his T-shirt.

He sat back down.

“I’m embarrassed.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “But I’ve been wanting to do this forever, so I’m just going to do it.” She turned her head and kissed him.

Yo, it’s bad, don’t kiss your teachers!

Lips so sweet they taste like peachers!

Stuart was surprised and also extremely confused. A moment ago he’d wanted to kiss Mandy. Mandy was his wife. But he liked Peaches. Peaches was pretty. Peaches was smart and funny. She played the drums. She was a badass nurse. And kissing her was weirdly exciting because she wasn’t Mandy. But at the same time, he loved Mandy. Mandy was hot.

He leaned in and kissed Peaches again, just to check.

“Blimey,” Roy said, catching them in the act as he came out the front door.

Of course the rock star got to kiss Peaches. Was it just starting now, or had it been going on for ages? Wasn’t it strange how you could live in such close proximity to people, speak to them every day, and still not know them at all?

“Ahem.” Roy pretended to cough and pulled up his socks.

Peaches and Stuart broke apart and looked away into the dark. Then Peaches reached out and squeezed Stuart’s knee. They might never kiss again. She hoped they would. But if they didn’t, it had been a great kiss, maybe the best kiss of her life.

“Time to collect our trouble and strife and climb the apples and pears, I should think,” Roy announced, so nervous he’d resorted to Cockney rhyming slang. “I need my bed.”

Peaches’ hand slid off Stuart’s knee as he stood up and descended the steps to the sidewalk.

“I think I left my skateboard…” he began.