The Wrong Way to Rock Bottom | UPDATES Fri/Mon

6 | Age Sixteen

He coughed. "A what?"

"A crush. The size of a small planet."

"On me." He sounded skeptical.

"Well duh." I felt oddly offended that he didn't believe me. "You're gorgeous, you're kind, you're funny. All girls have to like you, it's in our DNA."

He let out a surprised laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No," I said heatedly. "I'm not Christy."

"Then why are you telling me this?"

It was a fair question. Of course, he didn't know me, so he had no idea that I tended to be kind of blunt, and also had a flair for dramatics. This declaration of love felt like pretty typical Lissa behavior. However, I would guess that he wasn't interested in hearing me break down my own personality, so I gave him the best answer I could.

"I've already accepted the fact that I have no shot with you. I am just a lowly sophomore." I did a little self-deprecating bow of my head. "And you have Christy throwing herself at you. This is the first and probably the only conversation we'll ever have, unless—heaven forbid—you actually end up dating Christy. In which case I can look forward to telling you where my sister is and pointing out which door's the bathroom." Hastily, I added, "But seriously, please don't date Christy. She's a total skankwad, and you're—pretty much perfect."

"Lissa." Keller was serious now, and adorably uncomfortable. Was he blushing? "You're... way pretty, and probably super nice—"

Oh geez. "I'm not asking you out," I blurted. Which I regretted a moment later, because I would've liked to see how much more he had to say about me before the rejection part. "That would be so awkward! Trapping someone in a crawlspace so you can make a move? If I wanted to date you I would've just said something at school."

"Oh." He relaxed, visibly. "Then why...."

I could've said it was so that I wouldn't be as much of a stalker when I talked about him with my friends, or that I thought hearing him tell me he didn't feel the same way would help me officially put this crush to death. But they would only be partially true answers.

"Because you punched Danny Reagan when he made me skin my knee, and you didn't laugh at Sophia Berkowski for being so sad when she ran over that toad. When it's your turn to be team captain you always pick the kids that nobody else wants on their team, and you took Rachel Levy to her senior prom when all the boys in her grade were saying no one would go with her because she was a whale. And I just think you deserve to know.... How great you are."

I couldn't look at him when I said that. I wasn't the type to get embarrassed easily, but this was going a little far, even for me.

I heard Keller's head drop back against the wall. "What does it say about me that I'm really enjoying this conversation?" He sounded like he was smiling.

I made myself meet his eyes, and finding his gaze on me for once made me shiver. "Well, everyone likes being appreciated," I said slowly.

He leaned forward, and I mirrored him before I even realized what I was doing. Our knees touched, and then his face was so close, I could feel his breath on my cheek when he asked, "Even you?"

I swallowed, a little dizzy with his nearness. "Technically... grammatically..." He was moving closer. "Everyone means... everyone."

These last words came out as a whisper, and then he kissed me. James Keller kissed me. I thought I would taste beer on his lips but instead there was a faint fruitiness, like he'd been chewing gum recently. He wasn't drunk either. And he was still kissing me.

I brought my hand up to curl around the back of his neck, my fingers threading through the soft ends of his hair, and tried to remember to breathe. I was using my other hand for balance, which ended up being a good thing. I was so dazed, if I hadn't felt the brush of something furry against my hand, I would never have noticed the raccoon.

The rest of the events my memory has blocked due to the trauma. I know that I pushed Keller away with a scream, and that the raccoon chose that moment to scurry between us. I know that when we staggered downstairs, Christy had miraculously gotten the cops to leave, and almost everyone from the party as well. I know that Keller offered to take me to the hospital so they could test the scratches I got for rabies, but Christy was the one to drive me. But all of that is a little fuzzy, and I only remember what they told me about it after the fact.

I remembered the important part, though. Keller had kissed me. I could die happy. And really, I would have been perfectly fine to leave it at that, one lovely and bizarre night to hold onto when I was old and grey.

Except the next day at school, when I was looking at him in the hallway, he looked back. And he said my name.