The Music of What Happens(47)



“You okay?” Jordan asks, and I almost laugh, because he’s the one who needs to be asked “Are you okay” in this situation. Not me. I’m pretty sure this kiss is newer to him than it is to me. But instead I just say, “Yeah.”

We grab the step stool and the empty bag and leave our hooligan whatever thing — our artwork, I guess — for the world to see in the morning. We get into the car in silence and it’s nice not to have to talk. To chill and drive through Tempe in the deep night, two dudes who happen to work together, and happen to, I don’t know.

I turn off the lights of my truck and pull up in front of his house. We come to a stop and sit there for a bit, unsure of what to say, I guess.

“I gotta,” he says, and I look at him and smile and he does a Jordan smile approximation, which makes me smile wider, because. He’s so damn Jordan.

“Yeah,” I say, and he nods and throws open the door and sprints toward the front door.

And I drive off, thinking that I’ve just had about the most exciting day of my life, and wondering how it’s gonna play tomorrow in the truck.





I prop myself up on a satin pillow and wrap a celebratory boa around my legs, which feels like the thing to do when you kiss a boy for the first time. Then I have a 2:00 a.m. texting session with Pam and Kayla: Me: You awake

Kayla: No

Me: That was a trick question, because asleep people can’t text

Kayla: This better be worth it or I will beat your ass

Me: Worth it

Kayla: Worth it how???

Me: We kissed

Me: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: I kissed a boy and I liked it

Kayla: That’s awesome sweetie. Was he a good kisser? I’m guessing yes

Me: How the hell would I know

Kayla: True. Oh no. Were you a bad kisser? You probably were really bad. Did he drop you off at home and drive away? Cause that’s what people do with bad kissers.

Me: (After sending a meme with a teenage girl giving dramatic side-eye) Fuck you bitch

Pam: You know that thing where you’re asleep and your phone keeps vibrating? That shit needs to stop

Kayla: He kissed a boy and he liked it!

Me: I kissed a boy and I liked it

Pam: Okay okay fine but can you shut the fuck up about it until after 9 a.m.?

Me: Sorry

Me: I

Me: Am

Me: Sorry

Kayla: Also me too

Kayla: Sorry

Kayla: So sorry

Pam: K you are both on ignore congrats tho on the kiss he is good for you

Me: Thanks Pam love you like crazy

Pam: K me too hitting ignore now

Me: You still there Kayla

Kayla: Of course because I’m your actual best friend and I care about your feelings

Kayla: She is going to slap me when she reads that in the morning

Kayla: Do you think this is like a thing now? You and Max

Me: I have no idea?!?! How will I know?

Kayla: Guys, esp dude bros are notoriously assholish about hooking up. But Max is better than that. I think?

Kayla: You’ll look in his eyes and just know

Me: Oh my god I have a bf! Maybe?!?! A bf!?!?

Kayla: Love you sweetie. More than Pam obvs

Pam: (After sending a meme with Chucky giving the middle finger) Fuck you bitch





The night of the zoo kiss, I find myself unable to sleep. I am thinking about Jordan’s lips against mine, and how he actually whimpered when they touched, and how real it felt.

It’s amazing. The simple act of kissing with someone I really like can just send me. Like a drug, maybe.

And then there are the times it doesn’t feel like that. At all.

Nausea fills my throat. I’m like, Do I need to vomit? I laugh. I liked the kiss. Jordan made me want to do the opposite of vomit.

So why would I even focus on that?

I’m alone in my bedroom. Lying down in bed. After a first kiss with a dude I like. So what’s this heavy syrup filling up my sinuses? Expanding upward.

I shut my eyes tighter, ignoring the weird feeling behind my eyes.

It stays, and then it gets worse, and I even think maybe I should call 9-1-1. Suddenly my face is numb with this syrupy feeling. It’s in my nose, in my head, sloshing down into my chest. And I’m like, Am I going crazy? Focus on the positive. Focus on the good stuff.

Kevin, the name, appears in big, bright lights, and I thrash it out of my brain. My head hits the headboard slightly and that makes me dizzy, but it does nothing to stop the slush. Oh no. I think to myself, Oh no.

I make a deal with God. Please, God. Let me just feel the good thing, not this other —

God says no.

I pinch my eyes closed. There’s a milky, full feeling gathering around my heart. A sludge. Slush. My body goes heavy all the way through, and suddenly I’m underwater again, like when Betts jumped on me, and waves of it fill my sinuses, the veins in my arms, my inner ear.

Dad saw a psychic once. He was into that for like a minute when I was a kid. And he went and saw her and showed her a picture of me. The psychic said I might have tooth trouble in my life, and that if I was ever to be in trouble, I should go to sleep. If I went to sleep when troubled, I’d wake up with an answer. I’ve always remembered that. So I focus on the insides of my eyes and will my heavy heart to slow down.

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