Her lashes, dark and long with mascara, fall, but I cheat because I don’t want to miss any of it.
Eyes still closed, she says, “Kayla said we’re supposed to use our tongues.”
I press my mouth to hers and slide my tongue across her bottom lip. Her eyes pop open.
“Did I do it wrong?” I ask quickly.
“I don’t know, but I liked it.”
She liked it.
I gently squeeze her fingers and lean in again, pressing our lips together. I don’t know if she means to do it, or if it’s a mistake, but her mouth opens and my tongue slips inside. Hesitantly, our tongues touch, stroke, and something sweet and sharp cuts down the center of my body. I wonder if she feels it, too. We both go still, looking into each other’s eyes for a few seconds.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I take her bottom lip between mine, and then she takes mine between hers, and I can taste her. Taste the red punch from the dance, taste her spearmint gum, taste her trust, which is the sweetest thing. And then I forget to think about it, forget to worry if I’m doing it right, or if I’ve messed up. Our heads bob and our mouths meld and we suck each other’s tongues, and it’s not weird at all. It’s sloppy and wet, but in the best way. A new-to-me hunger rumbles inside, not for food, but for her. Every time I taste her, suck her lips, lick inside her mouth, the hunger grows. I reach up and cup her face, needing to be deeper and wanting the whole world outside this bathroom to go away. Wanting to make our own little planet in the last stall of the girls’ bathroom and never stop kissing Kimba ever.
Mariah Carey’s “Vision of Love” floats in muted tones to our stall. Beyond these walls, back in the gym, they’re at the dance, but in this corner on our last night of middle school, we have our own theme. Our own rainbows and lights and music and magic. We hold each other’s breath and take each other’s hands, crossing our hearts and guarding our innocence. We are on the cusp of next, but tonight, we have right now, and it’s better than everything I’ve ever had and must be as good as anything to come.
“Ez,” Kimba gasps into my mouth. “I need to breathe.”
I don’t. I’d hold my breath all night if it meant I could keep kissing her, but I pull back so she can. We’re both panting, our eyes locked, our fingers entwined, my hand resting at the smooth curve of her neck.
It was perfect. A snow-globe moment where everything was shaken and all my particles are still drifting to the ground, resettling into a completely new person.
“Was that okay?” I ask.
Kimba’s pretty lips, soft and fuller from our kisses, pull into a wide smile. “Let’s do it again.”
This is the best night of my life.
Chapter Seven
Kimba
“Y’all mighty quiet back there,” Kayla says from the front seat, catching my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Everything go okay tonight?”
“Oh, yeah. So much fun.”
“For sure. It was great.”
The replies rush out of us, piling on top of each other. Ezra and I watch each other from the corners of our eyes, secret smiles etched onto kiss-puffy lips. Mona’s mother picked her up and took her home. Kayla came at ten o’clock on the dot to get us. We’re in the back, separated by a decent distance, but our fingers twine on the seat between us.
“So what happened with Jeremy?” Kayla asks, her tone tilting up in that irritating way, like she’s patting my head.
Ezra’s smile wobbles. I squeeze his fingers until he looks at me. I roll my eyes and smile, waiting for a real grin to come back to his face.
“Did you do it like I told you?” Kayla asks.
“I didn’t kiss Jeremy.” I stretch my eyes at her in the mirror. “Just drop it, Zee.”
“All right,” she says, carefully maneuvering her pride and joy into our driveway. “You’re starting high school in a few months. What are you waiting for?”
The perfect moment. The perfect person. That’s what I had tonight.
“Hmmm.” Kayla frowns at the garage door lifting to reveal my parents’ Mercedes. “Mama and Daddy are already home.”
The steel and chrome gleams in the overhead light of the garage. Kayla turns, propping one arm on the passenger seat and splitting a look between Ezra and me. “Out. The both of you. Tell them I’ll be home by midnight.”
“Where you going?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest and settling back like I’m not leaving until she talks.