When I climbed on the bus after school on Wednesday, I didn’t bother trying to conceal the way my eyes sought her out. The minute I found Liz halfway down the aisle, on the right-hand side, I made a beeline for her. Tossing my bag on the floor between the seats, I dropped into the seat beside her and draped an arm over her shoulders. “Happy birthday, Liz.” Feeling brave, I pressed a kiss to her cheek and then dutifully ignored the wolf whistles and teasing from my classmates.
