He lists all the other classes and teachers he has, and it turns out we’re going to be in most of the same ones. I know this is flirting, this thing we’re doing. He keeps grinning at me in a funny way, and it makes me feel a little pretty. Almost.

“So,” he says, after we’ve been talking for a while, inching farther and farther apart from everyone else. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend?”

No one has ever asked me this before. Usually the question is “Why haven’t you ever had a boyfriend?” Or “Is Micah your boyfriend, or what?” I know we are only going into eighth grade, but by now everyone has had some sort of relationship, even if it only means sending a note that says I like you. Do you like me? and then “going out” for a few days but never actually speaking a word to each other.

Down at the far side of the pool, I watch Micah laughing with Sierra and a bunch of girls.

“No boyfriend,” I say.

“Oh. I wasn’t sure if you and Micah —”

“Just friends.”

“Oh.”

His cheeks turn a little pink.

The next thing I know, he’s leaning forward and I know what he is about to do and that I should stop him. This is not what I was expecting to happen, and definitely not here. Not now. Not out in the open in front of all these people. And definitely not with Evan!

But then I think, Just try it. Maybe it will feel good. Maybe it will make my heart feel like a hummingbird. He’s cute. He seems nice. Why not?

Only, I know why not.

Micah.

He’s at the other end of the pool, though, flirting with Sierra.

I want to try. Part of me needs to try.

He leans closer. When our lips touch, he presses forward a bit more. They’re cold and wet from the pool water and feel like rubber. They feel gross. Kissing Evan does not make me feel excited. Or whatever you’re probably supposed to feel when a nice, cute boy wants to kiss you. If anything, my heart sinks.

I lean back, away from his lips and his sweet face and his hopeful eyes.

“Sorry,” I say.

“What for?” he asks.

“I don’t really like public displays of affection.”

“Oh.” He laughs. “PDAs. I hear you. Want to find someplace to go?”

Someone squeals at the other end of the pool. We both turn to see Sam on Jack’s shoulders. Sierra is trying to climb onto Micah’s so they can play a game of Chicken. Micah sees me watching and gives me a dirty look.

No. Not a dirty look.

A hurt look.

“I think I’m going to go get some food,” I say lamely.

“Sounds great!” Evan says, not getting the hint.