The First Kiss

Marcus disappeared into the crowd within four minutes of arriving.

Ben lasted seven.

Owen stayed beside me.

The Lantern was loud, warm, and crowded with students taking a personal stand against sensible bedtimes. Colored lights moved over the brick walls. Someone had spilled a drink near the dance floor.

Owen inspected the wet patch as though it posed an immediate threat to my existence.

“Watch your step,” he said.

“I survived the walk from the door.”

“I know.”

He took my elbow anyway when somebody pushed past.

I decided not to complain.

People noticed him. A tall, handsome athlete in a fitted black shirt did not disappear easily, especially when he stood with his shoulders squared and watched everybody who came near me.

A man with a silver ring through one eyebrow leaned toward us.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

I opened my mouth.

Owen moved half a step in front of me.

“He’s with me.”

The man looked from him to me.

I smiled into my glass.

“Apparently I am.”

The man raised both hands and moved on.

Owen turned back, alarmed by his own behavior.

“Sorry. Did you want to talk to him?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No.”

It came out immediately.

I waited.

His jaw tightened.

“No,” he said again, more quietly.

I liked the second one even better.

“Then stop apologizing.”

He glanced toward the dance floor.

“We could go somewhere else. It’s crowded.”

“I like it here.”

“Okay.”

“But you’re allowed to relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

I looked at his hand, still curved protectively near my elbow.

He let it fall.

We found a narrow booth near the back. Owen ordered one beer and nursed it. I had a drink with far more ice than alcohol because I wanted to enjoy the evening, and I wanted to remember it.

Owen sat opposite me, knees awkward beneath the little table.

“Do you ever come here?” I asked.

“No.”

“Too busy?”

“Usually.”

“Have you ever been on a date?”

He looked up.

“Not really.”

“What counts as not really?”

“I went to a movie with somebody in high school. A bunch of other people were there.”

“So a school trip.”

He laughed.

“That sounds about right.”

I leaned forward.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

He stopped smiling.

I watched the question reach him.

“No,” he said.

“Neither have I.”

His eyes moved over my face as if he suspected I was teasing.

“I’m serious.”

“You don’t seem like somebody who would have trouble finding a person to kiss.”

“Finding a person isn’t the same as wanting him.”

His fingers tightened around the bottle.

I slid out of my side of the booth and sat beside him.

He shifted back until his shoulder touched the wall.

I turned toward him, close enough to see the pulse move beneath his jaw.

“I’ve been wondering what it would be like,” I said.

His gaze fell to my mouth.

I waited for the blush. The retreat. The familiar attempt to say something sensible.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed me.

It was brief. Warm. A little uncertain.

Then he pulled back as if he had shocked himself.

For once, I had nothing prepared.

He stared at me.

I stared back.

The music kept playing. Someone laughed at the next table. None of it seemed particularly relevant.

“You kissed me,” I said.

His face changed.

“I’m sorry.”

I had meant it as an observation. He heard it as an accusation.

Before I could correct him, he lowered his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have done it like that.”

“Owen—”

“I like you.”

The words came out rough and urgent.

He looked at me again.

“I really like you, Julian. I know you probably already know that.”

I kept very still.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I kept thinking it would make living together uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same.”

His hand rested on the seat between us. He curled it into a fist.

“I don’t have much, and you’ve got people who could give you things I can’t. I know that. But I wanted to ask if you’d let me take you out anyway.”

My heart did something deeply inconvenient.

He swallowed.

“A real date. I’ll plan it properly.”

I looked at the broad shoulders, the anxious eyes, the hand he was keeping carefully to himself.

He had finally done it.

After weeks of watching him circle the edge, he had jumped.

I should have answered immediately.

Instead, I let him wait for three terrible seconds.

Then I shrugged, with what I considered admirable composure.

“I suppose you could try.”

His expression opened.

“Really?”

“You’ve been reasonably helpful.”

“Reasonably?”

“And you caught me before I broke my neck. That deserves consideration.”

He was smiling now. Trying to hide it and failing.

I could not bear that smile for another moment.

I touched his wrist.

“Ask before the next kiss,” I said.

His eyes dropped to my fingers.

“Can I kiss you again?”

I leaned closer.

“Yes.”

The second kiss was less uncertain.

When we pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine for one short, astonishing moment.

I had thought I would feel triumphant.

I did.

I also felt warm and strangely unsteady.

He walked me home with his jacket around my shoulders. I complained that it was too big. He offered to take it back. I told him not to be ridiculous.

Over the next week, he approached courtship like an assignment he intended to earn full marks on.

He found a little place off campus that made the noodles I liked. He checked its menu before inviting me. He borrowed an umbrella when rain was forecast, then arrived at my lecture hall with it while I was still deciding which friend to inconvenience.

He asked if he could hold my hand.

I told him he was taking a long time to do it.

He turned pink and laced his fingers through mine.

Marcus observed us one evening over the top of his laptop.

“Carter, do you need a uniform? You look like you’re employed here.”

Owen was setting a mug of tea on my desk.

“He was cold,” he said.

“It’s seventy-four degrees.”

“He was still cold.”

I accepted the tea and smiled.

Owen smiled back.

That should have been enough to keep the world pleasant for at least another week.

Then my father called.

“Come home tomorrow,” he said, without asking how I was.

“I have plans.”

“Cancel them. You’re having dinner with Natalie Brooks.”