A New Reflection

30. Brush-Off

I contemplate whether I am a terrible person for enjoying the feeling of control the kiss with Joshua produced more than the kiss itself, though as I stroll through the cemetery the next morning lost in reflection, I come to understand my reaction as something more complex.

Until a few months ago, I genuinely couldn't conceive of the possibility of kissing someone or ever having a boyfriend. I could barely converse with friends, let alone guys, and I cringed at my own reflection in the mirror. Alex came in and shook up my world, but I was still in denial that he actually liked me until our recent text exchange a few weeks back.

Everything has busted open for me, and it's not about kissing boys. It's not about that at all. Well, maybe a little bit.

* * *

Joshua and I have each other's cell numbers, and for some reason I am expecting him to text me after our make-out session in the rose garden. Instead, I don't see or hear from him for three days. I'm not afraid to send a text, but I am attempting to leave the ball in his court. After all, he was the one breathing hot and heavy after putting his hands all over me.

I'm leaving Spanish class on Thursday afternoon when I spot him down the hall, which is crowded with students rushing off to lunch. My heart lurches forward. I crave for the subsequent plot twist in the story of my life to be revealed. As with Alex, I'm consumed with discovering what this boy will say or do next in reaction to what has happened between us.

He sees me, stops dead in his tracks, spins on his heals and scurries the opposite direction.

What the hell?

His escape was so indiscreet as to be comical, and I realize the shock has caused me to stop walking; I am being bumped and practically trampled by hungry college students darting by from every direction.

"What are you doing?" Ethan is standing before me, quirking an eyebrow, and it registers in my brain that my lips are upturned in an involuntary, giggling grin as I remain motionless in the middle of the crowded hallway.

"Oh!" I reply, flushing. "Nothing. Just processing the extreme awkwardness of the previous 20 seconds."

"Do tell!" he pries. We shuffle through the masses and make our way outside, where a light drizzle showers down from the muddled grey sky. I don't think I'll ever grow desensitized to the beauty of this campus, which shifts without diminished intensity throughout multitude of weather variations each month. The fir trees are bursting with glistening raindrops, and the maple leaves have transformed into an autumnal rainbow of golden yellow, crisp orange, wine-red and mauve.

"Um, I kissed someone three days ago... and he just looked directly at me from down the hall, turned around and fled the opposite direction. So, yeah. Not quite the reaction one hopes for."

After we helped a pale-green, babbling, vomit-covered Ethan back to campus after the dance last weekend, I feel comfortable enough to share this information with him. I'm grinning as I relay the incident, more amused than anything else.

"What! You kissed someone? Who?" Ethan reacts.

"Um... Joshua?"

"Joshua?" He raises his eyebrows at me. "Okay."

"I think he is just uncomfortable about how to act, since it was also his first kiss. Yeah, I'm just gonna tell myself this," I venture with sarcasm.

"Well, to be honest, that's probably the most likely explanation," Ethan offers, his tone genuine. I love the way he holds my face with his eyes whenever we converse, as if he has all the time in the world for me and our interaction. I never expected to be close friends with a guy, and I really enjoy our friendship.