The Kissing Booth

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     "Why do we have to come up with a booth anyway? Can't we just manage the whole event and make other people come up with the booths?"

     "Hey, you're the one who said being on the school council would look good on our college applications."

     "You're the one who agreed to it."

     "Because I wanted to be on the dance committee," I pointed out. "I didn't realize we had to work on the carnival too."

     "This sucks."

     "I know. Oh, hey, what about if we hired one of those, um... You know," I said, gesturing with my hands like I was holding a hammer and hitting it down, "those things with the hammer."

     "Where they test your strength?"

     "Yeah. That thing."

     "No, they already ordered one of those."

     I sighed. "I don't know then. There's not much left to do, everything's already taken."

     We looked at each other and both said, "I told you we should've started planning this earlier."

     The two of us laughed and Lee sat at his computer, spinning around on the chair slowly, tapping the back of it thoughtfully.

     "Haunted house?"

     I gave him a flat look – well, I tried. It wasn't easy to catch his eye when he was spinning around like that.

     "It's spring, Lee. Not Halloween."

     "Yeah, so?"

     "No. No haunted house."

     "Fine," he grumbled. "Then what do you suggest?"

     I shrugged. Truth was, I had no idea. We were pretty much screwed. If we didn't come up with a booth then we'd end up being booted off the council, which would mean we couldn't put it on our college applications next year.

     "I don't know. I can't think when it's this hot."

     "Then take your sweater off and come up with something."

     I rolled my eyes, and Lee started surfing Google for ideas for a booth for the Spring Carnival. I tugged my sweater off over my head, and felt the sun on my bare stomach. I tried to wriggle my arms back through so I could pull down the tank top I'd worn underneath, but it didn't really work.

     "Lee," I said, my voice muffled. "A little help?"

     He sniggered at me, and I heard him get up and walk. At that moment the bedroom door was pushed open, and I thought for a minute he'd left me in a tangle, but the next second I heard a different voice.

     "Jeez, at least lock the door if you guys are going to do that."

     I froze, my cheeks going bright pink as Lee tugged down my tank top and yanked the sweater off my head, leaving my hair static.

     I looked up to see his older brother leaning against the door frame, smirking at me.

     "Hey Shelly," he greeted me. He knew I hate being called Shelly. I let Lee get away with it, but Noah was another matter entirely. He did it solely to annoy me. Nobody else dared call me 'Shelly', not after I yelled at Cam for it in the fourth grade. Now everybody called me Elle, short for Rochelle. Just like nobody else dared call him 'Noah', except for Lee and his parents; everyone else called him by his surname, Flynn.

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