I thought maybe dinner would be the last of it. No more talk of inspired love to complicate things even further, but I was wrong. Family tradition required postdinner activities to proceed as planned, which meant we all worked together to decorate for Christmas. The only thing worse than my mother sitting Simon down to see all thirteen Christmas ornaments plastered with my face—one for each year of school I’d completed—was John getting out the mistletoe. Mistletoe.

He was behind Simon when he pulled it out of the box, so only I saw the look on his face—the look that said Oh my yes, we’re going to use this tonight. I gave my head a slight shake, trying to warn him with my eyes, but it was a lost cause. He nearly vaulted over a box of ornaments to get to where Simon and I stood, then pinned the mistletoe up directly over our heads.

“Subtle, John,” I said. “Really subtle.”

Simon looked up at the mistletoe. He knew as well as I did that John was in on our secret, so he had to be wondering what John was up to. But it was too late for it to matter. Abuela watched us from the couch. “Un beso,” she called. “Un beso!”

There was a question in Simon’s eyes when he looked at me. Should we? Did I want him to? I looked back at Abuela, who still watched, both hands pressed against her heart. I turned back to Simon and smiled, leaning toward him enough for him to know that, yeah, this was happening.

“Are you sure?” He whispered so softly I nearly missed his words.

“They’re all watching,” I whispered. “Kiss me.” In my head, I assumed it would be something chaste, simple. Nothing more than a little peck. But Simon clearly had other plans. He touched my face first, his fingers lingering on the side of my cheek before they slid to the curve of my neck. His other hand wrapped around my waist and rested on the small of my back. It was too obvious. Surely everyone would realize we’d never done this before. But I didn’t care. All I cared about was that Simon’s lips were seconds from touching mine and in that moment, there wasn’t anything in the world I wanted more.

Fire. That was what it felt like. Heat up and down my arms, tingling all over every inch of my skin. The kiss only lasted a moment. I mean, my grandma was in the room, after all, but it was long enough. Long enough for me to know that everything had changed and I couldn’t ignore it anymore.