Page 48 of Chess Not Checkers
“What?!” Saylor screeches, dropping her pink highlighter. “When? Where?”
“How? Why? Who?” Marigold adds wryly. When we all stare at her in confusion, she elaborates. “That’s the journalistic six. You ask all those questions as a starting point for a great story. Who, what, when, where, why, how.”
Saylor picks up her highlighter and points it at Marigold. “I like that. Let’s use it. We knowwho, and mywhatwas more shock than an actual question. So, start with when.”
I laugh. “Okay, it was Saturday night, after the game.”
“You mean last game? After you got tackled?” Marigold asks.
“That’s not a part of the questions,” Saylor says.
Marigold gives her a dry look. “A good journalist clarifies.”
“Well, yourclarificationis making her take longer to get to the kissing part.”
Aurora laughs, which gets me laughing too.
“Yes, it was after the last game. As for where…we snuck out of our rooms and met up in the business center.”
Saylor sucks in a dramatic gasp. Aurora raises her brows and says nothing, while Marigold smirks.
“Why?” Marigold keeps her question simple, giving Saylor a pointed look. Saylor just grins.
“Both of our roommates were gone, so he called to talk.” All of the girls’ eyes widen at this. “And then we got to sharing deeper stuff, so we thought it was better to meet in person.”
“That’s so romantic,” Saylor dreamily whispers.
I shake my head. “No, it was just friendly.”
“Yes, because friends kiss all the time,” Marigold deadpans.
“We didn’t kiss,” I defend. “It was an almost kiss.”
“How?” Saylor asks, finishing the six questions.
I bite my lip as I recall how Shepherd’s thumb grazed the corner of my mouth. The heat in his gaze when he paused. The slight tilt of his head when I didn’t move or protest. If we hadn’t been interrupted, I’m certain we would have kissed. And I have no idea what I would have done after if we had.
“He was wiping something from my face, and then it looked like he was going to kiss me, but I was probably imagining it,” I say quickly, not wanting to believe it myself. “Then someone walked in and interrupted us.”
“Did you get in trouble?” Aurora asks, her first contribution to the conversation beyond facial expressions and laughter.
I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t anyone we knew. I jumped up and left right after.”
“Have you talked since then?” Marigold asks.
“Not really? I mean, we had class today, but I came in right as it started and left when it ended. Neither of us has texted each other. Everything feels too weird.”
“Did you want him to kiss you?” Saylor asks.
I cover my face. “I don’t know,” I say through my hands.
“That’s a yes,” Marigold concludes.
“No, it’s not,” I protest, letting my hands fall into my lap. “I don’t know how to feel.”
“You don’t know how to feel about what comes after. I’d bet my tiny bank account that you wanted that kiss. I heard you two flirting.”
I gape. “We were not flirting! And you shouldn’t eavesdrop.”
