I.m going to forget the kiss with Joe happened even though I was up all night replaying it in my
head. As I.m driving to school the day after the kiss that never happened, I wonder if I should ignore
Joe. Although that.s not an option because we have chemistry together.
Oh, no. Chemistry class. Will Colin suspect something? Maybe someone saw us drive off together
yesterday and told him. Last night I turned off my cell so I didn.t have to talk to anyone.
Ugh. I wish my life wasn.t so complicated. I have a boyfriend. Okay, so my boyfriend.s been acting
pushy lately, interested only in sex. And I.m sick of it.
But Joe as my boyfriend would never work. His mom already hates me. His ex-girlfriend wants to
kill me – another bad sign. He even smokes, which is totally not cool. I could make a huge list of all the
negatives.
Okay, so there might be some positives. A few minor ones too insignificant to mention.
He.s smart.
He has eyes so expressive they give a hint to more than what he portrays.
He.s dedicated to his friends, family, and even his motorcycle.
He touched me as if I were made of glass.
He kissed me as if he.d savor it for the rest of his life.
The first time I see him is during lunch. As I.m waiting in the cafeteria food line, Joe is two
people in front of me. This girl, Nola Linn, is in between us. And she.s not moving down the line fast
enough. Joe's jeans are faded and torn at the knee. His hair is falling into his eyes and I.m itching to push it
back. If Nola wouldn.t be so wishy-washy about her choice of fruit…
Joe caught me checking him out. I quickly focus my attention on the soup of the day.
Minestrone.
“Want a cup or bowl, hon?” Mary, the lunch lady, asks me.
“Bowl,” I say, pretending to be totally interested in the way she ladles the soup into the bowl.
After she hands it to me, I hurry past Nola and stand by the cashier. Right behind Joe
As if he knows I.m stalking him, he turns around. His eyes pierce mine and for a moment I feel as if
the rest of the world is closed out and it.s just the two of us. The urge to jump into his arms and feel the
warmth of them surrounding me is so powerful, I wonder if it.s medically possible to be addicted to
another human being.
I clear my throat. “Your turn,” I say, motioning to the cashier.
He moves forward with his tray, a slice of pizza on it. “I.ll pay for hers, too,” he says, pointing to
me.
The cashier waves her finger at me, “What.d you get? Bowl of minestrone?”
“Yeah, but… Joe, don.t pay for me.”
“Don.t worry. I can afford a bowl of soup,” he says defensively, handing over three dollars.
Colin barges into the line and stands next to me. “Move along. Get your own girlfriend to stare at,”
