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I’m surprised my mom didn’t wait for us, excited to hear all of our stories from our first party, but the house is covered in darkness. Only a small table lamp is on in the hallway so that we don’t bump into something as we make our way to my bedroom.

It’s better that way. I don’t have to explain why my eyes are reddish and Brook doesn’t have to explain why she’s in one of her moods.

We don’t say much as we prepare to go to bed. I guess both of us need some time to think through everything that happened and process it. I sure need that.

The light is turned off, and we snuggle into our blankets. I’m not expecting her to speak, but I’m not surprised she does either.

“Will you tell me what happened with you-know-who?” she whispers in the dark.

She is lying on her side of the bed on her back, staring at the ceiling, like usual. She said looking at the glow in the dark stars that we shattered all around my ceiling calms her down.

I, on the other hand, liked to sleep on my side, but I switch my position and lay like her. For this conversation, I don’t want to look her in the eyes. It’s a cowardly thing to do, but I don’t care. So much has happened today that I feel like I’ve had one wild ride on an emotional rollercoaster.

“He kissed me,” I whisper back.

I don’t know why we are whispering. We never do that. Talking quietly? Yes. Sneaky whispering? No. But this seemed as good time as any to start. It reminds me of those Rom-Com movies in which teenage girls whisper about boys they like and want to kiss. I guess we aren’t far from the subject either.

When Brook doesn’t say anything, I expand. “Derek. He…,” I swallow hard before repeating, “He kissed me.”

“What?” I can hear her shifting in the bed, sheets rustling as she moves. I can feel her eyes looking at me, but I don’t look back at her. I keep staring at the ceiling as I tell her how his behavior changed lately.

“He calls me little one,” I explain at the end, not even knowing why this is important.

Brook sighs loudly and returns to her initial position. We are quiet again for so long that I think she gave up and went to sleep, but then she surprises me with her next words, “He’s jealous, you know?”

“Jealous?” I ask dumbly, turning my head to look at her. “At who?”

She turns her head and rolls her eyes at me as if I just asked one of the dumbest questions of all the time. “Of Sanders, of course. Of who else would he be?”

“What?” I sit up straight in bed, frowning at her. “Why would he be jealous of Max?”

“Please, Lia.” She laughs at me. “From the day Max stepped his foot in the school, even in the town, he was all over you. Max likes you and he is always around. So, of course, Derek doesn’t like that Max likes you.”

“You are not making much sense,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Derek can’t stand me.”

“So you’d like to think,” she disagrees. “Derek always liked you; he was just being a jerk about it. Guys don’t know how to express their feelings and they think if they do it, their friends will tease them or god knows what. Derek thought he was safe, that you wouldn’t look at another guy, and when he’s ready he’ll come to you and you’ll wait for him, but now that Sanders is in the picture he actually has a worthy opponent.”

Could she be right? Is Derek jealous of Max? And if that really is the case, does it change anything?

Brook turns her head my way, a smug smile on her lips. “How was it?”

When I raise my brows at her question, she continues, “The kiss. How was it?”

The heat rises and floods my cheeks. I can only be grateful that it’s night and we are lying in the dark room so she can’t see me.

“It was …” I drift, thinking about her question.

How was it really?

There was so much going on at that moment, that I didn’t let myself think about how was it. The only thing that was going through my mind at that moment was that the boy who didn’t like me and whom I didn’t like took my first kiss without permission because he thinks another kid wants to take away his favorite toy and he doesn’t like to share. The same boy whom I was once in love with, but he broke my heart and now when I don’t want to have anything to do with him, he’s always around.

Demanding and arrogant.

But was it bad? How would I even know? It isn’t like I had anything to compare it with. I just know he is too much. Things he does to me, the way he makes me feel, it’s all too much.

“Complicated,” I finally finish.

“Well, that’s the two of you. But, Lia?” I turn around to look at her. The smile is gone from her face, replaced by a serious expression. “Be careful. I know you’ve liked him for like forever ...”

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