Page 90 of Kissing is the Easy Part
Carmen slides her homework onto my desk. It takes me a second to register it.
“My answers are correct,” she whispers.
I nod. “Thanks.”
My back burns with remorse, but there’s no time for that now. There’s plenty of time for that two days later, when I get my German pop quiz back. German pronunciation is a struggle, but written tests are usually a breeze, so when I see the red numbers slashed across the paper, my first instinct is that this isn’t mine.
Sixty-eight.
Sixty-eight.
I don’t remember ever getting a mark below ninety. My eyes dart around the room, scanning for reference points. Maybe the test was harder than usual. Maybe everyone failed.
The first mark that meets my eyes is a whopping ninety-four.
I shuffle to my next class like Hester Prynne fromThe Scarlet Letter,a giant embroidered 68 scalding the front of my button-down shirt.
Flora is less than sympathetic.
“Wow, what a story to tell the grandkids, right?” she says on the way to cheerleading practice.
“Flora.” I try keeping the irritation out of my voice.
“It’sfine. It’s one test, and German isn’t that useful anyway. Everybody in Germany speaks English, including Einstein.” She tousles my hair.
“My grades are slipping. I’m not as smart as you think. I’ve always had to work for it. This shows I have to put in more effort.”
“One pop quiz isn’t going to tank your GPA.”
“It’s not the test per se. It’s a warning sign. I forgot to do my chemistry homework too.”
“Didn’t Carmen save you in time?” We reach the football field, and she’s losing interest. “I have to go to practice now. Blame me later.”
“Baby, I’m not blaming you, but we need to make some changes. Let’s talk after practice, okay?” I’m so drained I don’t even have the energy to explain.
Her lips are set in a thin line. “Sure.”
“Can you go to practice now and get mad at me later?”
“Getting mad at you won’t interfere with my practice. I’m a pro at multitasking.”
We stare at each other for a second before breaking into smiles at the same time.
“You’re so hot in your cheerleading uniform, no one can argue with you and win.” That sounds like something Flora would say. Well, two can master this art.
She gives me a proper smile, one that washes away my worries like waves erasing drawings in the sand. “I’m sorry about your test. Call me later?”
With a small wave, she jogs over to join Madison.
Chapter Thirty-one
Flora
Sean comes over in the evening. My parents are back from their business trip to Buenos Aires, but they’re still downtown, dealing with some corporate crisis.
Usually, he pulls me into a kiss the second I latch the door, but this time, he brushes past me and heads straight for my room. He sits on the floor, stretches out his legs, and delivers his grand opening. “We need to talk.”
My heart lurches. “Am I getting fired, or what?”
