Elevator Kiss

Standing at the head of the table, Ellen’s mother clapped for attention. “Pencils, everyone. Now, you’re answering these questions twice—one column is for your own answer, the other for how you think your partner will answer. A point for each matching answer.”

I readied my pencil.

“What is your favorite color?”

Easy. Blue, I wrote in my own column.

Then, I saw the blank column beside it—uh-oh. How on earth was I supposed to know Calvin’s favorite color? My heart pounded. I was going to blow our cover with every single answer.

Until … a memory from our fated elevator breakdown smacked me.

Your eyes are the color of emeralds.

It was worth a shot. G-r-e-e-n, I wrote in Calvin’s column, and then added, like emeralds and my eyes.

Ooh, that’d get them. Even if it was wrong, they’d have to give us props for looking like a couple. I rubbed my hands together. This was the best strategy possible!

We were going to win this game, even if we lost.

And then, the next question hit me like a truck. “Where did you have your first kiss?”

We’ve never kissed.