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“Oh.” I tried not to sound disappointed. “You said we’d go, before.”

“Yeah, about that. It’s not a good idea. You don’t need me with you.”

But I want you there. I didn’t say it aloud. Ever fiber of me knew it was a bad idea to get attached to him. He was like a caseworker, almost.

“All right, thanks. I’ll register, drop my bag off at the dorm, and go shopping, I guess.” I couldn’t believe I’d just spoken those words voluntarily.

“You ready?” A figurative shutter came down in his expression; he was ready to get on with his work.

“Yep.”

There was nothing personal about his hand on mine, just a link required to port me on to the last leg in our journey. We emerged in a quiet corner of what must be the quad. A tangle of branches veiled the grass in filtered green light. Kian let go of me and pushed clear from the foliage.

He pointed, his tone all efficiency. “Registration is in that building. Head over and they can take it from here.”

“Can I call if I need you?”

“Of course,” he said gently. “But you won’t. You need to get used to your new look and develop the confidence to demolish the assholes at Blackbriar, come fall.”

I took his point. If I called him constantly, that wasn’t self-assurance; psychology books would call it codependence. To hide my nervousness, I joked, “It’s also to keep my parents from having a heart attack. I hope the summer’s long enough for them to believe—”

“Don’t worry.” He softened a little. “Parents always want to believe their kids are beautiful. It won’t seem like a stretch when the time comes, I promise.”

“Then I guess that’s it.”

“Yeah. I won’t contact you until the summer program ends.”

“You better come then.” I tried for a playful tone. “You’re my ride home.”

“I’ll never let you down when you need me, Edie.” His tone seemed so somber for a sunny summer day, as if he saw dark things in the distance and me in the center of them.

“Then there’s one more thing before you go.” I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but the words wouldn’t stop. They came from a place of complete certainty.

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

I didn’t give a shit about rules. A girl only got one first, and I suspected it wouldn’t take me long to find somebody who wanted to be the one. But I deserved more than that for my first kiss. It had to be Kian—who said he liked me before—even though he wasn’t allowed to. I was willing to accept that it couldn’t go past this point.

“That’s a really bad idea,” he whispered.

“If you don’t want to…”

In answer, he stepped closer so I could smell his soap, just touch of citrus, and the warm, sunshiny scent of his skin. He dizzied me. Kian tangled his fingers in my hair and drew me to him with just enough hesitation to make me think he was nervous. That helped on my end, though I still couldn’t breathe right. His other hand rested on my hip. I didn’t know where to put my arms, if I should press close, stand super still, or—Oh God. It’s a good thing I asked him to do this.

I’d make a fool of myself with anyone else.

“Eyes shut,” he breathed in my ear.

I closed them and turned my face up. A trill of pleasure radiated wherever he touched me. Then Kian brushed his lips against mine, and the world stopped.

For this moment, I only knew his heat, his heartbeat. His mouth tasted sweet and lush, like chai tea and cinnamon, and I rose up against him on my tiptoes to sink my hands into his layered hair. This wasn’t a perfunctory kiss—no, it was so much more. He caught me against him, and I lost track everything but Kian. His hands burned through the thin cotton of my tee, roaming my back. For someone who had never been kissed, this was like learning to swim by being thrown off a boat into the ocean.

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. His nearness reacted on me like a drug, and I clung, wanting only more. Forever, more. Eventually, I registered the hooting behind us in the quad. Fierce heat flashed into my cheeks as I pulled back.

“Something to remember me by.” His tone carried a low and lovely ache, as if those moments meant something to him, as if he worried about me forgetting him.

Like that could ever happen.

I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Okay. What time?”

“Let’s say eight, West Coast time.”

I nodded. “Thanks for everything.”

His jade gaze swept me from head to toe, as if committing me to memory. Then he stepped back. The leafy foliage hid his vanishing act, but the air crackled after he went, like charged wind after a storm.

I ached for him already.

A STITCH IN TIME

Going forward, I’d control everything this summer, taking charge of my life just like I had by asking Kian for my first kiss. That resolve made me feel better about being thrown into a college credit program with minimal preparation.

You can do this.

As I strolled toward the red-and-white registration banner, a girl fell into step beside me. She seemed … nervous, gnawing at her lip with oversize front teeth. Her mouth was chapped; her hair was dull and needed trimming. And before this morning, she would’ve considered herself too cool to be seen with me. At least that was my experience; even loners and outcasts preferred not to risk my social contagion because hanging out with me wasn’t worth the potential grief from the Teflon crew. But maybe my Blackbriar experience wouldn’t repeat here; there was no way this girl could know I had been a pariah.

“Was that your boyfriend?” she ventured, as if I might slap her for speaking to me.

At Blackbriar, this would be a nonstarter, a definite faux pas. People who looked like me did not hang out with those who looked like her. But here at the science program, that didn’t matter—and I would never crush someone like they had me.

“Nah. Just a guy.” That seemed like the kind of thing the new Edie would say.

One who saved my life.

Who liked me before.

“Really?”

“We haven’t known each other that long.” Surprising and true.

The other girl’s eyes widened at that revelation. “But you were kissing.”

Somehow I managed a shrug. “I was curious.”

My companion didn’t know what to say to that, clearly. “Wow.”

“Are you part of the science program?” I figured it was better to change the subject because there were so few things I could reasonably say about Kian. Hell, I didn’t even know his last name.

“Yeah. I guess you go to school here?”

I shook my head. “I’m heading over to registration myself.”

“I never would’ve guessed.” She wore a near-comical expression of disbelief, and if I’d been born with this version of my face, along with my brain, I’d find her incredulity offensive. It must suck for smart, pretty girls not to be taken seriously.

“Why?” I dared her to say it out loud.

“Y-you just don’t look like the type,” she stammered.

Sympathy washed over me. Hours before, I’d been living this girl’s life. Worse, most likely. “Yeah, well. Looks can be deceiving. I’m Edie.”

Belatedly, I realized I hadn’t stuttered once. Apparently the behavioral psychologist had been right; I had a psychogenic stutter, exacerbated by stress, mental anguish, and anxiety. Right then, I felt no fear of ridicule, and it was easy to talk.