Funny Story

by Emily Henry

With that, I turn and power walk across the brilliantly sunlit parking lot to the guy slouched against the truck, the driver’s-side door hanging open, waiting for him. “You okay?” Miles asks, right as I pitch myself into his arms, wrapping mine around his neck. His brows shoot up in amused surprise. “Is he looking?” I whisper. Miles nods. “Can I kiss you?” A half-amused, half-scandalized smile overtakes his face. “Okay.” So I lean into him and lift my chin, and he ducks his forehead, and we have one of the top five worst kisses of my life, junior high included. The problem is, I go in way too hot, whereas he’s aiming for a chaste teenage-actors-doing-a-high-school-play kind of thing, so basically I end up biting his entire mouth, which makes him laugh into mine, which in turn makes me laugh, only by then, he’s adjusted his approach to match mine, and the laugh dies in the back of my throat as he grips my hip in one hand, my jaw in the other, and kisses me for real. Rough, impatient, but not clumsy