was a stage kiss,” I assure him. “Nothing more.” “Uh-huh,” he says, unconvinced. “Why are you flustered, then?” “I’m not flustered,” I mutter. “Aw, are you blushing?” Cartwright asks, smirking at me. “She’s blushing.” I look up at him across the table. “Et tu, Brute?” Cartwright frowns. “Huh?” “I’m gonna buy you a book for Christmas,” I tell him.
