Page 7 of Kissing is the Easy Part
I hand the phone back, tension still burning under my skin. “You should leave that group. It’s a cesspool for cowards.”
Does Flora know?I hope she never finds out.
“There’s a lot of talk about Flora because guys catch feelings, and when they realize she’s not into them, they trash her reputation,” Josie says. “In this day and age, you can’t be an attractive and approachable girl without people misinterpreting the vibes. In any day and age, actually.”
“Sure,” Dylan says, “but let’s not pretend all Flora does is hang out with guys and pick daisies together. Sometimes there’s more.”
“So?” Josie shoots back. “I don’t see you calling Jake out for his drama.”
Jake’s notorious for his sexcapades, and never apologizes for them, nor does anyone expect him to.
Dylan raises his hands in surrender. “Look, we all like Flora. She’s cool, and she always picks up the tab. I’m looking out for you, Seany. Don’t get too caught up.”
“I’m not. I get why people gravitate to her, though. She’s . . .”—disarming and hard to ignore—“She’s sharp. And funny.”
“Sure, man. Not caught up at all.”
“It’s anobservation,” I say.
Josie pulls onto our street. Dylan gets out first, heading to his place just a few doors down. Josie parks in her driveway, and I get out with her since I live next door. Before heading inside, she pauses, giving me the best-friend look that saysI know there’s more.“Anything you want to get off your chest?”
I hesitate. Part of me wants to spill, but I promised not to tell anyone.
“You should hear it from Flora.”
Josie nods like she expected that answer. “Yeah. Thought so.” She turns to head inside. “Don’t let other people make up your mind for you, okay? Flora’s worth it.”
The night air feels heavier without the distraction of their voices. The house is dark when I step inside. My family is asleep, and I creep upstairs, avoiding the floorboards that creak too loudly.
It’s past midnight and I’m in my room now, but sleep isn’t coming. My brain churns like an endless algorithm. There’s something about Flora, an allure that’s effortless and overwhelming. Her eyes are huge, and her face keeps flashing through my head like a glitch.
And those legs.
Why would someone like her want to spend time with me? We’re on different wavelengths.
Restless, I flip open my laptop to check my MIT prep. My dream school.Thedream school. My grandfather was a physics professor there before he retired, and I can’t wait to go to his alma mater. He makes it sound like more than a school, that it’s the place where you prove you belong.
I scroll through my Schoolhouse profile. Over one hundred hours logged tutoring students. Then I check the due dates for all my homework and update my planner with the weekend’s study goals. Lastly, out of habit, I click on the MIT admissions website, even though I’ve memorized every word.
This goal has been years in the making. I can’t afford distractions. I’m not ready to be dazzled by Flora. She’s too pretty, too flirty, too far out of my league.
Focus.
MIT wants risk-takers. People who know how to balance. One of the essay questions literally asks:Tell us something you do simply for the pleasure of it.
What if I went ononedate, one casual date, to see what Flora Morgan is all about?
It wouldn’t ruin me, right?
Chapter Three
Flora
The next morning, I lie in bed browsing my Instagram feed. I’ve analyzed Sean’s behavior eight billion times already, but guys are mysterious creatures. He said he wants to be friends, yet he drank for meandchecked out my legs. He rejected me, then he walked me homeandsaid I make him feel special. He might’ve even flirted a little.
A group call is in order. I need help from my friends.
Madison Jenkins, my best friend, picks up first. While I show my love by letting her take the back spot when we take a selfie (so her face appears smaller and her angles sharper), she shows hers with insults and brutal honesty.Her yearbook quote would likely beIt’s fine to be a bitch as long as you stab people in the front.
