Langa fell asleep that night replaying the kiss in his mind, and he woke up the next morning replaying the kiss in his mind, brushing his teeth and thinking of how soft Reki's mouth had been, the warm, clumsy way his lips moved, his face so close that Langa could see every faded scar from his skateboarding falls. He couldn't think of anything else besides how much he wanted the kissing to happen again.
Maybe he could steal Reki away from class somehow, taking Reki's broad, callused hand and pretending he needed to use the bathroom. As Langa packed his lunch in the kitchen, he lost himself in a daydream where he was fumbling to get a stall door locked, he and Reki crowded into the tiny space together, Reki bracing his arms against the walls and laughing nervously. "Won't we get caught?" Reki would ask as Langa turned around, and Langa would whisper back, "No," because in the daydream Langa had all the confidence in the world and in his daydream Reki swallowed and let his eyes drift to Langa's mouth, and in the daydream a blush began to rise on Reki's face, adorable, and in the daydream...
"Langa," said his mother, and Langa cried, "Ah!" and nearly dropped his lunchbox.
Shamefaced, he straightened up and turned around. His mother tilted her head, holding her cardigan around her pajamas.
"You're going to be late for school," she chided, but then she opened her arms and waved him in for a hug, and even though Langa always felt embarrassed hugging his mother, he had to admit that she gave good hugs. Today he closed his eyes when she patted his back.
"Have a good day," he said, awkwardly, when she let him go.
"You too," she said, smoothing his hair away from his face, and when Langa stepped outside to climb onto his moped, he felt a little bit better than he had last night, when he had gone to sleep aching to kiss Reki again. He and Reki were still friends, he reassured himself. That was enough. It was enough. It was enough.
It wasn't enough.
Reki had his feet up on the edge of Langa's seat, legs balanced across the aisle, and he was talking enthusiastically about his drawings, showing them to Langa one by one, and each time he said, "Oh oh oh!" Langa's heart melted a little more. Jesus. His heart never beat this quickly unless he was racing down a hill at 25 mph, and today he was just sitting at his desk, watching Reki's bandaged fingers point out smudged pencil drawings, and his heart beat so fast against his chest that it hurt.
He wanted to ask to see the drawings up close. He wanted to trace the lines Reki had made with his finger, as if somehow he could puzzle out Reki's heart that way, too.
But too soon their teacher called the class to attention, and Reki gave Langa a grin, poking his tongue out a little, and even though Langa knew Reki was just trying to make a funny face, his heart did a painful squeeze as they all faced the front. This wasn't enough. He loved Reki as a friend, he wanted to be his friend forever, but now he was thinking about his mouth again, and about getting to lie in his bed in his arms, listening to Reki talk endlessly about every drawing he had ever done.
"Let's go to the skate park," said Reki the next day. "I wanna take some videos of you."
So Langa followed him to the skate park, where they hung out until the sunset, and then they walked to the convenience store for slushies. They sat on the curb while they drank the slushies, and Reki pressed his arm against Langa's for a blessed half an hour, and Langa thought about kissing him. Reki had said they could practice again, but Langa couldn't stop wondering, desperately, when.
But then the sky got dark and they said goodnight, and Langa lay awake again, far too late, thinking about him.
Maybe if he kissed better, he thought, then Reki would want to kiss more often. Maybe he would start thinking of Langa as a real expert. Maybe he would begin to have feelings for...no. No, Langa couldn't start thinking like that, but he still wanted to improve. He made a resolution to himself the next day during class. He had been clumsy last time, he hadn't known what to do with his tongue, but next time he would be more prepared.
