There’s this rise in my chest. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it was bad.”

“Really? I guess my first kiss was all right, then.”

That makes me pause.

“Your first kiss?”

“Yep, that was all you.”

“You’ve never kissed anyone before? Like, ever?”

“Is that a big deal?”

“Well, no, I just …” I honestly don’t know what I expected. Wyatt never seemed like the type to me to really have boyfriends or girlfriends or partners. They never seemed to show interest in anyone at school; I never heard them offhandedly mention a crush or maybe a significant other who went to a different school. Except the weird adoration for Robert Pattinson that’s peeked its head up some random times.

“Sorry for taking that from you.”

Wyatt lets out an exasperated chuckle. “You shouldn’t be. I liked it.”

I’m going to combust, right here on the pool patio.

“I—uh …”

“Sorry,” Wyatt says swiftly. “I didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable.”

“No, no, you’re fine. It’s just that … well, I liked it too.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a good kisser, Wyatt.”

We should do it some more.

Those should be the next words out of my mouth. Because I want to kiss them again, because that’s what this moment is leading up to, it’s so obvious. I want it, and I’d bet everything I own that they want it just as badly.

But I think we’re both too afraid.

“Maybe”—their voice is still soft—“you could help me practice more, then.”

It’s not a question, that much is clear. I feel the heat in my cheeks, the fire starting in my brain, the alarms ringing in my ears. Did they just say that? They did, right? I’m not hearing things. They’re staring at me, this soft smile on their face.

I open my mouth, and my tongue feels so heavy, so unbelievably dry.

“I’d like that.” I struggle to form words, to believe that any of this is real.

But it is.

It has to be.

Wyatt and I move closer. I can’t close my eyes, and neither do they. Maybe they want the same thing I want.

I want to see this happen; I want proof that this is happening, that I’m not having some fucked-up dream that I’m going to wake up from just before I get what I want so badly.

Wyatt looks so soft, their cheeks warm; I notice the moles that dot their face and the sparse hairs that grow between their eyebrows and above their upper lip, how long their bottom eyelashes are, the acne marks.

I wonder if Wyatt knows how beautiful they are.

I hope they do.

I need them to know that they’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. Every part of them, inside and out.

Our heads tilt.

Our eyes close.