BROKEN GLASS. TOM KAULITZ

vii . kiss

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BY WEDNESDAY, WORD AROUND THE HALLS IS CHRIS AND GENEVIEVE ARE A COUPLE. By Thursday, it's confirmed. They've got the Public Displays of Affection thing down pat and I have to hand it to them, they look pretty happy for two people who have absolutely nothing to be happy about.

He's with her because he can't be with me and she's got to suffer every kiss knowing that, and boy, does she know that.

By Thursday night, Frogley knows how to fetch Dad's slippers. "Look at this!" Dad says, after he calls Mom and me into the living room. He's stretched out in his recliner and Frogley's sprawled out on the floor at his feet. Dad snaps his fingers. "Froggy, boy!"

Frogley raises his head, already accustomed to his new nickname. He got comfortable with us super fast.

"Fetch, Froggy; fetch me my slippers, boy!" It's terribly exciting. He rises slowly, totters out of the room and totters back in with Dad's slippers in his mouth. Mom squeals a little and claps her hands.

This dog is mad talented. "Good dog!" she gushes, patting Frogley on the head. He looks pretty satisfied with himself, for a dog. He nestles back into his spot at Dad's feet and Mom rushes into the kitchen to get him a treat.

"Good job, Frog," I say.

But I'm not talking about the slippers.

The party starts at eight, but I show up early so Chris and I can have sex. Another year at St. John's is almost behind us and we've already slept together eight times. This will be the ninth and there's going to be a lot more sex in our future.

We go to his bedroom. The speakers are mounted against his window and he turns on some sweet-sounding music really low and kisses me and I kiss him back and then, I don't know, I kind of seize up.

"What's wrong, Cilla?" he asks. He's breathing heavy.

We separate and I wipe my mouth, "What have you been eating?"

"What does it matter?" His brows furrow as he tries to lean in again.

"Were you eating something with garlic in it? I told you not to eat garlic before you kiss me anymore. It's gross."

He sighs. "What's wrong, Priscilla?"

"You know I hate garlic breath and you eat it anyway, that's what's wrong." I complain, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back gently.

"That's not what I mean." Chris mumbles. I untie my ponytail and retie it. I think every so often, Chris should have to work for sex by listening to me.

"Olivia thinks I'm coming down on the other girls too hard." I tell him, picking at my nails now.

"We stopped making out for that?" He leans in for another kiss and I push him away harder this time.

"Fuck off, Chris. I'm serious."

"You're always serious."