“No. Maybe he doesn’t change in the locker room?”

“I guess he could be shy,” she said. “Although everything he texts you and does to you in closets kind of says otherwise.”

Yeah. It didn’t make any sense. I kept staring down at my phone. Most of the guys were already in their uniforms. And I was doing my best not to stare unnecessarily at the ones that were still getting ready.

Someone cleared their throat.

I looked up. I hadn’t even realized that the stadium had opened. And there were a few guys already in line in front of our booth. I think they were underclassmen because I didn’t recognize them.

The guy at the front pulled out $5 and smiled at me.

It felt like my stomach dropped. I didn’t need to kiss a line full of underclassmen!

I turned to Sophie.

“Knock ‘em dead,” she said.

“You do it,” I whispered.

“He doesn’t want to kiss me. He wants to kiss you.”

I looked back at him. And he was staring at me. We really didn’t think this kissing booth through thoroughly enough. I took the guy’s money. But at the last second, I chickened out and let him kiss my cheek. We ended up doing an awkward double cheek kiss thing.

He looked a little disappointed, but he didn’t protest.

I let the next guy kiss my cheek too. And some people walking by saw and kept walking. I think I was scaring customers away. Score!

I sat down when our line dwindled. “Sophie,” I said. “Can’t we just close the booth until the football team comes out?”

“Why? Your kiss thief could literally be anyone here.”

“Stop saying that. It’s one of the guys on the baker’s dozen list.”

“Possibly.” She paused for a second to stand up and kiss a guy on the lips. He definitely slipped some tongue in. She sat back down so casually. “But how are you going to know if you’re only letting them kiss your cheek?”

“I’ll let one of our 13 suspects mouth kiss me.” My phone buzzed. I had a text from my kiss thief.

“I hope I see you at my game today.”

I smiled and showed it to Sophie. “See. He’s not some random guy in the stadium. He’s on the team. Why else would he text me that?”

“I have no idea why stalkers do what they do. But can I text him back? I have a really good response.”

“Don’t promise him more sexy photos.”

“I won’t, I swear.”

I handed her my phone.

She smiled the whole time she was texting. And then she handed me back my phone. She’d written: “I’ll be cheering you on from my kissing booth.”

I laughed. “Nice one.”

My phone buzzed with his response: “Your what?”

“Ignore that one,” she said. “He’ll see soon enough.”