Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda Epic Reads Edition(67)

“Huh,” he says, nodding. And then I lean over and kiss him softly on the neck, just below his jaw. He turns to me and swallows.

“Hi,” I say.

He smiles. “Hi.”

And then I kiss him for real, and he kisses me back, and his hands fist my hair. And we’re kissing like it’s breathing. My stomach flutters wildly. And somehow we end up horizontal, his hands curved up around my back.

“I like this,” I say, and my voice comes out breathless. “We should do this. Every day.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s never do anything else. No school. No meals. No homework.”

“I was going to ask you to see a movie,” he says, smiling. When he smiles, I smile.

“No movies. I hate movies.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really, really. Why would I want to watch other people kissing,” I say, “when I could be kissing you?”

Which I guess he can’t argue with, because he pulls me in closer and kisses me urgently. And suddenly, I’m hard, and I know he is, too. It’s thrilling and strange and completely terrifying.

“What are you thinking about?” Bram says.

“Your mom.”

“Noooo,” he says, laughing.

But I actually am. Specifically, her Every Time Including Oral rule. Because it only now occurs to me that the rule might apply to me. At some point. Eventually.

I kiss him briefly on the lips.

“I really do want to take you out,” he says. “If you didn’t hate all movies, what would you want to see?”

“Anything,” I say.

“But probably a love story, right? Something Simonish, with a happy ending.”

“Why does no one ever believe I’m a cynic?”

“Hmm.” He laughs.

I let my body relax on top of his, my head tucked into the crook of his neck. “I like no endings,” I say. “I like things that don’t end.”

He squeezes me tighter and kisses my head, and we lie there.

Until my phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans. Alice. Exiting the highway. Be ready.

Roger that. Thanks, Paul Revere. I rest my phone on Bram’s chest while I type.

Then I kiss him again quickly, and we both stand up and stretch. And then we each spend some time in the bathroom. But by the time my family gets home, we’re sitting on the love seat in the living room with a pile of textbooks between us.

“Oh, hi,” I say, looking up from a work sheet. “How was it? Bram came over to study, by the way.”

“And I’m sure you were very productive,” my mom says. I press my lips together. And Bram quietly coughs.

I can tell from her expression that a conversation is coming. Some kind of awkward discussion about ground rules. Some kind of big deal.

But maybe this is a big deal. Maybe it’s a holy freaking huge awesome deal.

Maybe I want it to be.