Bernie smiled, and then, as if he read my thoughts, he said, "We'll go slowly, of course, and if either of us is uncomfortable, we'll stop immediately. That would only ruin the experiment, anyway."
"Fine," I said, swallowing back the lump of nervousness that tried to rise in my throat.
Bernie walked over and began to kiss me. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift, but I could feel my heart pounding crazily, and I worried that Bernie could feel it, too. I pulled away, and Bernie slo
wly dropped his hands from my shoulders.
Bernie lifted his eyes slowly and gazed at me. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"Very nervous," I said
"You're the bravest girl I ever met. I didn't think you would do this," he confessed, and I thought I heard a faint quiver of nervousness in his voice.
"I told you," I said, trying to sound brave, "I'm as interested as you."
He nodded.
"What do we do next?" I asked.
"Why don't we try a French kiss? You know, with our tongues?" he said. "You tell me everything that's happening to you, and do the same, okay?"
I nodded. I began to wish I'd left with Ashley, but I knew it was too late to turn back now. Besides, I was curious about Bernie and the way his kiss had made me feel.
"Ready?"
"Yes," I said. I looked up at the ceiling and then at him, and we both stood there.
His eyes drank me in from head to toe. I had never had a boy look at me the way Bernie was doing. It made my head swim.
"My heart is pounding," he said. He began to walk around me. "I'm nervous, and I'm afraid I might do something wrong," he admitted. He sounded like someone reporting from outer space--as if I weren't in the same room as him, experiencing the same feelings and emotions.
"Me, too." I wanted to be honest about my reactions, for the sake of the experiment, of course. "What?"
"Everything you said," I said, my voice cracking, my eyes closing as he walked around me. I could feel his breath on my neck. A moment later, he was in front of me again, only inches away.
"I'm going to close my eyes," he said, "and then I'm going to try this French kiss thing, okay?"
He closed his eyes and kissed me.
I wasn't too sure I liked this kind of kiss. I felt as if I could tell what Bernie had had for dinner. I'd seen kids kiss in school like this, and they seemed to enjoy it, so I decided to try to like it. After a while, my heart began pounding stronger, and my hands started to feel sweaty. This time, though, it was Bernie who stopped our kiss.
"Wow." He shook his head as if he were trying to clear the fog out. "Now I see what all the hype is for."
"Um. . . yeah, me, too." I couldn't help but wonder if kissing all boys felt this nice.
"I think we should stop for tonight, but I definitely want to try this again. As long as we keep it experimental, of course," he added.
"Experimental . . . of course," I answered, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. I was never one of those girls who got all dreamy when they talked about boys and kissing, but I never thought it would be cold or clinical, either.
"I wonder if Ashley's going to tell her other friends about this," he said.
"I'll make sure she doesn't."
"They'll make up stories about us anyway," he said, holding his eyes on mine "They probably already have."
"Probably," I agreed.
There was a long moment of silence between us. To me, it was as if we had fantasized the kisses we'd shared. It had all been so fast it was one blurry memory. Only the graph in my hands with my comments confirmed that I hadn't been dreaming