Page 46 of June First

“I’m not angry. Just disappointed, I guess.”

“It’s not like we can never kiss again. I just have something else I need to do tonight.”

“Something more important, you mean.”

I take a step back until we’re at least a foot apart. “Well, yeah. It is, actually.”

Wendy folds her arms over her chest, pursing her lips as she looks away. Her cheeks are tinted pink, and I’m not sure if it’s because of our kiss or because she’s mad that the kiss is over.

She looks upset with me, and that doesn’t feel fair.

Inhaling a quivering breath, Wendy still refuses to make eye contact. “Maybe my brother was right. Wyatt said I was wasting my time pining over you. Said you weren’t worth it.”

“That’s nice,” I mutter bitterly. Just the sound of Wyatt’s name has my blood boiling with painful memories. He was awful to me during the most vulnerable time of my life.

They both were.

And now all I can think about is the fact that I left June alone on her birthday to kiss a girl who used to torment me.

I keep pacing backward. “I’m going to go. Have a nice night, Wendy.”

She seems flustered at my departure, softening her stance. “Brant, wait,” she says. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know. I’m just feeling a little rejected here.”

“It wasn’t a rejection,” I tell her. “It was a ‘to be continued.’ But I’m not sure I want to continue it now.”

Wendy’s eyes go wide.

“See you at school on Monday.” I spin around fully, marching back through the park and heading home. I pass Theo and Monica cozied up in one of the play structures making out, so I holler a goodbye before I disappear.

“You’re leaving?” Theo asks, poking his head out above the slide.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”

“Okay…see you there, Luigi.”

“Later, Mario.”

And then I break into a run, racing down the quiet sidewalk until I reach our secluded neighborhood of towering trees and a single gravel road. The rocks crunch beneath my soles, my lungs burning with adrenaline. I run all the way to my front door, then push inside, glancing around the front room for June.

But it’s only Mr. and Mrs. Bailey snuggled up on the terracotta-toned sofa, whipping their heads in my direction as I plow into the house like a hurricane. “Brant? Everything okay?”

Instinctively, I swipe at my mouth, as if they can tell by just looking at me that I’d been locking lips with Wendy Nippersink. “I’m fine. Where’s June?”

“She went to bed about fifteen minutes ago,” I’m told.

My heart stutters. She went to bed without my lullabies and storybooks—without my promise that I’d be here to read to her and say goodnight. She was probably devastated.

I fly up the stairs.

“Don’t wake her, Brant,” Mrs. Bailey calls up to me. “She’s probably already asleep.”

“I won’t.”

I’m a liar, but I’d rather be a liar than a promise breaker.

Carefully poking my head through the crack in her door, I glance inside the shadowy room that’s brightened only by her ballerina night-light. There’s a lump beneath the bedcovers with a little brown head of hair peeking out. A gray elephant rests under her chin.

Ignoring Mrs. Bailey’s warning, I step into the room.

---