Glass (Crank 2)

conversation. Okay, we almost

kissed once. But I was such

a total tool, when he leaned

his face down close to mine,

looked into my dilated (by

the dark, not by stash, which

I still turned up my nose at)

eyes, and it came to me what

he had in mind, I actually

turned my face away, pretending

some nighttime noise

had drawn my attention.

Plain and simple, I didn’t know

how to kiss and didn’t want

him to know it. He was a couple

of years older, and a dark-haired

hottie who surely knew a thing

or two about kissing. Unlike me.

I didn’t learn those ropes

for another year or so.

Looking back, I wish I had

had a different teacher,

one who really cared about me.

Looking back, I wish

I had parted

my lips—opened my mouth

wide and invited his tongue

inside—for Quade. Maybe

every single thing that happened

in my life after that night