Page 17 of A Good Book

“If he’s the dream guy you think he is, then he’ll find your inexperience endearing. He’ll want to be your first kiss. And he won’t judge you for how you kiss because all his brain will think is ‘I can’t believe this amazing girl is letting me kiss her.’”

She returned a blank expression and several slow blinks.

“Fine. It’s like licking peanut butter off a spoon.”

“No way.” She giggled.

“Yes way.”

“I’ve never kissed a spoon. You’re so warped. You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“That’s because you’re only thinking of puckering your lips and making a smacking noise like kissing your dad’s cheek. But when you kiss someone you’re attracted to, it’s like you want to devour their lips and taste the inside of their mouth. But it’s not quick like a spoonful of cereal, it’s slow like sticky peanut butter that you have to suck and lick over and over. And if it’s really good, you might even hum a little.”

“I’m not going to make out with him. I’m talking about a kiss like a goodnight kiss.”

“Fine, then.” I shook my head and raked my fingers through my hair. I hated talking about this with her. “Just mirror whatever he does. If it’s slow, go slow. If it’s fast, let it end. If he gives you a little tongue, give him a little tongue back.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about French kissing.”

“You’re right. And you don’t want to catch mono, so maybe just stick to a kiss on the cheek or even just a handshake or a tip of the hat. He probably always has a baseball hat on, right?”

“Stop.” Laughter bubbled up her chest. “He wasn’t wearing a hat. And I’m not shaking his hand.”

“Then maybe a high five.”

She snorted. “I’m being serious. If you show me how to be a good kisser, I’ll be at the dining hall when they open tomorrow and get you like five or six of the bear claws you like.”

Kissing the girl that I loved beyond reason and five bear claws. What kind of idiot passed that up?

Me.

“It would be like kissing my sister. Too weird,” I lied. I was a fraud and an idiot.

“Tillie is super cute. I bet she’s a good kisser.”

“Gross, Gabby.” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Don’t say that about my sister.”

“What about Jason?” She sat on the bottom bunk bed, which was mine.

“Jason? My roommate?”

She nodded.

“What about him?”

“Maybehecould teach me how to kiss. He’s not my type, but he has a nice smile, and it looks like he brushes his teeth, so?—”

“Gabriella, I’m calling your dad.”

“What? No! Are you crazy? This is not what a best friend does. So help me, Benjamin, if you leak any of this to my dad, I will never speak to you again.”

I stepped away from the door as it opened behind me.

“Yo,” Jason said, his gaze focused on Gabby for a second before looking at me. “Bad timing?”

“No. It’s fine,” I grumbled.

“Hi, Jason,” she said and then bit her lower lip to suppress her ridiculous smile. “That orange backpack is pretty gnarly.”

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