“I like that. And it needs a big kitchen. One that can cook a meal for a dozen people.”
“And an infinity pool!”
“And a huge balcony!”
“A bathroom outside!”
“A deck covered in vines and greenery that makes it feel like we are living in the jungle.”
I look up at the stars.
“And the clearest view of the moon and stars,” I say.
Langston’s hand intertwines with mine. “That’s the most important part.”
“So that’s your house. Where will I live?” I ask.
“In the house with me.”
“You mean as your wife?”
He shrugs. “Maybe, or maybe we’d live there as friends. Would it be so bad, being married to me?”
“I don’t know. We’re eight. And all the marriages I’ve seen have failed. I don’t want us to fail.”
“Maybe we should kiss and see how we like it. That way, we’ll know if we should be married or just live there as friends.”
I’ve never thought of kissing a boy before. But I know Danica in my class kissed Ian last week.
“Okay, kiss me then.” I sit up, leaning on one elbow.
Langston leans on his elbow, facing me. It’s beginning to get dark outside, but I can tell he’s nervous. He’s hesitant. I don’t understand why. It’s only a kiss.
“Kiss me, killer.”
Then his lips are pressed against mine. Our noses bump. Somehow, I end up biting his bottom lip.
“Ow,” he says as we both pull away.
Then we laugh.
“Well, I guess that answers that,” I say.
“Yep, friends it is,” Langston says.
I smile, as we both lay back on the blanket and start trying to make images out of the stars.
For some reason, I can’t get that kiss out of my head. Langston was my first kiss. It seemed terrible. I don’t understand why anyone would want to kiss. But then again, I’m eight.
I snuggle up to Langston as we begin to drift off to sleep. I feel his steady heartbeat. I know what he’s risking staying with me tonight. I won’t let him get hurt for me. It may not be part of our pact, but I make a silent promise to myself to never let him get hurt. Tomorrow, I’ll do what I can to keep that vow.
I wake up before dawn, knowing that Langston will wake as soon as the sun touches his face. I have very little time to do this.
Carefully, I rise off Langston’s arm.
He doesn’t move.
I smile at my sleeping boy. Then I grab the T-shirt, hat, and jeans he took off when it got too hot last night. He’s sleeping on the blanket only in his boxers.