Kissing Ted Callahan (and Other Guys)(13)

The Passenger Manifest is in my purse, practically beckoning me to detail what is going on. If it had the technology, it would be sending out its version of the Bat Signal to Reid.

“I’ll have some, too,” he says, holding his hand out. Garrick isn’t acting awkward at all. Garrick is a master of making out: he’s good at it and he doesn’t act like it altered the course of time and space afterward.

“Should we study more?” I ask. It’s the first time in the history of Garrick and Riley, Chemistry Lab Partners, that I am the one to suggest more studying.

“Yes.” He smiles and grabs for the flash cards again. As if studying makes him so happy. Okay, I know studying does make him happy. He’s the master of making out and studying.

Studying: expected. Making out: the opposite.

“If a reaction releases heat, it is a what kind of reaction?” he asks.

“Exothermic?” I guess. I’m right!

“Your turn.” He passes the cards to me.

Our hands touch for a second, and it isn’t electric, and it isn’t exciting, but our hands are touching, and not long ago our freaking lips and faces were touching, and I may have touched the heck out of his shaggy hair, and IS IT NORMAL WE AREN’T SAYING ANYTHING ABOUT THAT?

No, seriously, I have no idea. Is it?





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN



Romance Playlist, by Reid


The Luckiest Guy on the Lower East Side--Magnetic Fields

Speedy Marie--Frank Black

The Luckiest--Ben Folds

The Blues Are Still Blue--Belle & Sebastian

Talk about the Passion--R.E.M.

Punk Rock Girl--The Dead Milkmen

I Want to Be the Boy to Warm Your Mother’s Heart--The White Stripes

Such Great Heights--The Postal Service

All I Need--Radiohead

Lola--The Kinks

You Said Something--PJ Harvey

Jesus, Etc.--Wilco

Do You Realize??--The Flaming Lips

When My Baby’s Beside Me--Big Star

Go Places--The New Pornographers





Songs for Love and Sex, by Riley


Modern Love--David Bowie

You’re So Great--Blur

Step into My Office, Baby--Belle & Sebastian

Strange Currencies--R.E.M.

Always Looking--Dum Dum Girls

Maps--Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Damn Girl--Justin Timberlake featuring will.i.am

Friday I’m in Love--The Cure

Anyone Else but You--The Moldy Peaches

Take Me with U--Prince

Yeah You--Andrew Mothereffing Jackson

By Your Side--Beachwood Sparks

Take Me Anywhere--Tegan and Sara

Whole Wide World 4 England--Wreckless Eric

When You’re Young--The Jam

Free Money--Patti Smith





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


“We need to talk.” Approximately fourteen hours have passed since the Garrick Incident, so I’m positive I say it calmly into the phone.

“We do,” Reid replies. “Meet at Fred Sixty-Two?”

“Now?” I ask.

“Yeah. Now.”

I leave my room and barely fully enunciate a “meeting Reid” to Mom and Dad, who are huddled over Dad’s iPad trying to solve a crossword puzzle together. It takes no time to get to Fred 62, but parking is horrible, and I see Reid strutting like an old-timey dude while I’m circling and praying to whatever’s out there that a space opens up.

“Did you see?” Reid greets me when I finally walk up. “My car is right around the corner. Parking magic.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say.

“A lot to talk about,” he says. “Let me see the book.”

My stomach is grumbling for a waffle, so I’m hoping we can get food into our systems before conversation or notebooking really begins. “In a minute.”

“Riley,” he says, then “Riley” again, the way you talk to a dog that isn’t listening to your commands.

“Fine.” I whip out the Passenger Manifest from my bag and smack him against the chest with it. “Take it back. There’s a lot I need to add but—”

“Good.”

“Good? How do you know? Oh my god,” I say. “ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH GARRICK?”

He looks confused. “Garrick Bell?”

I just nod.

“No—I mean, I know him, we have a bunch of classes together, we’ve hung out before but—” He appraises me with a look. “Why?”

We walk inside and sit down at a booth in the back.

“So what happened with Garrick Bell?” Reid asks.

“We were just hanging out studying,” I say.

“On a Saturday night?” Reid asks.

“It’s when we were both free,” I say. “So it was normal, and then I think he asked me to the fall formal—”

“You think?”

“Trust me, it was vague.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked if I was going, and when I said we might be playing, he said he was seeing if I wanted to go.”

“Riley.” Reid shakes his head like a wise old sage on top of a mountain. “He was clearly asking you.”

“No. Clearly would be, ‘Hey, Riley, do you want to go to the dance with me as my date?’ This was totally not clearly.”