Kissing Ted Callahan (and Other Guys)(25)

Stool Boom is okay, nothing special, but the next opener, Sweetpants, is a better fit with the Vanderbilts. Of course the Vanderbilts are incredible, and Milo is a great fellow concertgoer. He makes a lot of noise, and we both nod to the beat.

I don’t want to sound like a cheeseball like you, Reid, but it is a pretty perfect night.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO


I make a scary discovery the next morning when I’m brushing my teeth. Kissing Milo—who’s maybe a little bitey—has resulted in a swollen lower lip. I can’t tell if it’s obvious but I feel like it’s a blinking light on my face. I convince myself it’s in my head and finish getting ready, but Ashley stares as we walk out to my car together.

“What’s wrong with your lip?” she asks.

“I ran into someone,” I say, which doesn’t make sense, so I add, “someone’s face, I mean.” WHICH MAKES EVEN LESS SENSE, THOUGH IT IS ALSO SORT OF TRUE.

Ashley eyes me like I’m crazy.

I drop Ashley off at the middle school and make the fastest Starbucks run ever because between the late night and the swollen lip and the beer, my body and brain are not exactly ready for education. I speed to school and run inside like it’s the LA Marathon, even though back during freshman year when I had to take gym I wouldn’t run unless I got called out by Coach Gunderson to do so.

I still get stopped at the entrance to the school and get a tardy slip. At first I panic, but anything I miss in chemistry Garrick will cover for, and also maybe I am cementing myself as some kind of badass with a swollen lip and coffee I’m sneaking in carefully in my backpack and now this tardy slip.

“Hey, Riley.”

I wonder if Ted’s voice is a sleep deprivation–induced apparition. I’m not expecting anyone else to be in the hallway after the bell, much less Ted Callahan, and I trip on absolutely nothing and slam into a locker. The coffee in my backpack of course doesn’t remain upright throughout this, and suddenly, hot brown liquid spews out the bottom.

“Whoa.” Ted dashes over. “Is your bag leaking? Sorry, obviously it’s leaking. What just happened?”

“I was trying to sneak in coffee in my backpack,” I sort of wail, yanking open the backpack’s zipper and extracting all my stuff. Ted runs into the guys’ bathroom and returns a moment later with a ton of paper towels. We manage to dry off my textbooks, but my chemistry notebook is pretty damp and discolored.

“Thanks,” I tell Ted, who is cool in a liquid emergency. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Me neither!” He laughs and takes all the wet paper towels to the bathroom to throw away.

I expect he’ll rush off to wherever he was heading, late, as well, but he just comes back calmly to me. It’s the only time in recent history we’ve stood this close and I haven’t wanted to kiss him, thanks to my stupid lip.

“You should get to class,” I tell him.

“No, I have a free period this hour,” he says. “Well, actually I’m Ms. Matteson’s aide but she normally doesn’t have a lot for me to do, so it’s more like study hall. Where are you going to put your bag? You should let it dry out somewhere.”

“I don’t know,” I say glumly.

“I’ll take it to her classroom.” Ted points down the hallway. “You can pick it up after seventh period. Cool?”

“Supercool,” I say, because I am the dorkiest person alive. “Thank you, seriously. You’re like a hero.”

Ted laughs again. It’s so great to hear. I wish we were the kind of close where I could just reach over and give him the kind of hug where you bury yourself into the other person. Okay, actually I guess even with my lip in its sad state I’m back to thinking about kissing, et cetera.

“I should go to class at least,” I say. “See you later. And, seriously, thanks.”

He waves as he walks off. “Anytime.”

*

Lucy and I are discussing our algebra homework at my locker after chemistry when Garrick walks by and waves. I manage a supercasual wave back like this is No Big Thing.

“Did you know Garrick used to go out with some girl who’s on a kids’ show?” Lucy asks once he’s passed by. “Isn’t it crazy?”

It is crazy, but also I guess I’ve been swayed by the gospel of tween bloggers because it’s less crazy all the time.

“Yeah, I know. I guess it’s not crazy, though.” I shrug. “Garrick’s cute if you forget how he loves science, I think.”

It’s dangerously close to admitting something, but I feel I have to stick up for Garrick on the subject of his celebrity-having-sex-with worthiness.

“Hmm,” Lucy says, watching Garrick walk down the hallway away from us.

I can tell she’s considering it. It would be a great time to explain how I know firsthand that Garrick’s make-out abilities could probably bring about world peace if he was sent to the right places. But I don’t, and Lucy heads off, and I walk quickly to catch up with Garrick before he heads into class.

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” he asks me.

“Nothing,” I say, because the coffee and my medicated lip balm are working. Kissing sounds great again! “Do you want to hang out?”

“Yes,” he says, and grins. Hopefully he’s not getting all excited about the prospect of studying like good little chemists but is instead calculating how much making out is possible with me.