Eva said, “You worry about it too much. It’s nothing, really, a kiss. It’s such a small thing, you wouldn’t believe.” Isabel looked at her now, quick and scathing, meaning to say something about not being stupid, about having kissed before, though she hadn’t, but Eva was waiting for her there: a puff of a laugh and then she darted in, pecked Isabel on the lips. “See! The smallest thing, isn’t it? Nothing at all.” Isabel stared. Her mouth felt branded: lemon to a wound, salt. She could not take a full breath.
