I Kissed Shara Wheeler

by Casey McQuiston

“She—” There is no possible way what Rory’s suggesting is true. “You think Shara threw her own dad—and herself—under the bus?”

“But why would she do this?” Chloe asks. “Why are we boycotting graduation?” Rory asks. “Same thing, different approach.”

But instead, Shara logged into her dad’s email and printed every receipt she could find. She plastered the school with them to make sure he couldn’t hide it. The church board may not care if the principal is a bigot, but it’ll be harder to make this go away. She did it even though she knew she’d be taking herself down with him.

If there’s one thing Chloe knows, it’s the danger of being yourself at Willowgrove, in False Beach. Everything she likes about herself is a liability here. You hide

the things that matter most before anyone can use them against you. That’s what Shara did. That’s what Shara does. Finally, finally, she gets it.

Shara isn’t a monster inside of a beautiful girl, or a beautiful girl inside of a monster. She’s both, one inside ...

And that truth—the whole truth of Shara—leaves no room to pretend anymore. Neither of them did all this for a title. That’s what Chloe was afraid of her friends seeing. That’s where ...

“Oh my God,” Chloe says out loud. Her brain is overheating, probably. “I’m in love w...

“I guess, though, if you’re asking, I hadn’t decided if I was gonna do anything with what Rory gave me until I heard what my dad was gonna do to Georgia. And then what he did to you.”

Shara tilts her head back, realizing. “You never read that card, did you?” “No, I did,” Chloe says. “Like, twenty minutes ago.”

“I kissed you first,” she points out. “Twice.”

“But those times didn’t count,” Chloe says. “They weren’t real.” “They were,” Shara finally admits. “I just … didn’t know it at the time.”

“So you were following me around last week, because you—” “Because I was trying to work up the nerve to do it right, but you ke...

“That my best mornings are the ones when I pull into school right after you, because I know you’ll have to watch me walk past your car.”

“Or, no, it’s—that time I had to peer edit your essay in AP Lang?”

I—I wanted to be as much of a distraction to you as you were to me. Do you get it? I wanted you to see me.”

“So then, when I read your notes and I realized that you did—that you saw me, that you thought about me so much, that you noticed me—God, I thought I’d won. But it didn’t feel the way it was supposed to. And that pissed me off.

I wanted someone who sees me, and I wanted it to be you, because I think I always knew you were the only one it could be.”

“So. To summarize. You’re not rejecting me.” “Correct,” Chloe confirms. “In fact, if you kissed me right now, I would probably die.”

There was this one weekend, a million summers ago, when I sat on the shore drinking a frozen limeade, and I realized the only thing I wanted to look at was the way the sun hit the girls swimming in the lake. The problem has always been this: When I look at you, I taste lime, and I see light on water.

“I’m, um,” she says. She looks at Chloe on the bed. “I’m gonna need to take it slow.” “That’s fine.” “I’m not saving myself for marriage or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Shara adds, so defensive that it sounds like a lie. “I’m just not ready for the other stuff.” Chloe’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t planning on doing any other stuff?” “You weren’t like … expecting that?” “Did you think I was?”

“Kind of.”

“But, Shara, you’ve known me for four years. When have I ever given you the impression that I’m getting laid? I’ve never even dated anyone.”

She’s glad it’s Shara. Nobody else would have felt important enough.

“You know,” Chloe says, “there’s a lot we still need to talk about.”

“Like what?”

“Do you want to start with the way you full-on staged your own disappearance to sabotage my academic career,” Chloe says, “or would you rather discuss how you may have sent your dad to federal prison?”

“He has a very expensive lawyer,” Shara says. “He’ll be fine.”

But I already knew they both deserved better than me.”

“I’m not bad. I’m bad for them.”

“And for me?”

“You were the only one it could be.”

“You’re like, the girl.” “What girl?” “The girl,” Shara says. “You know everyone is scared of Chloe Green, right?” “Yeah, because I’m a bitch.”

“That,”

“and also because you showed up one day from California and did whatever you wanted. Nobody at Willowgrove knows what...

“Oh, hi! You’re Wheeler’s kid, aren’t you?” “We were studying,” Chloe says. “Finals were last week, Chlo,” her mom points out. “I should go,” Shara says. “You don’t have a car,” Chloe reminds her.

“Tell you what,”

“I got the stuff to make spaghetti and a half gallon of strawberry ice cream from Webster’s in the freezer. Why don’t you stay for dinner, and Chloe can drive you home after?”

My moms walked in on me and Shara hooking up and convinced her to stay for dinner and now Shara is making garlic bread and my mom is telling her about how I punched a mall Santa when I was five, she texts Georgia.

Georgia immediately texts back, SLDJFASDLAFAKLSAS NO followed by, SHARA??? FINALLY????? HOW??????? in rapid succession. And then, summer is losing her mind rn.

“I would apologize for being a freak and keeping it all this time,” Chloe says, “but you’ve done weirder stuff, so let’s call it even.”

“You’re kind of a badass,”

“Wow, you’re like, obsessed with me,”

DAYS WITH SHARA (OFFICIALLY): 5 DAYS WITH SHARA (EMOTIONALLY): 1,363

“Don’t make me cry,” Chloe says. “I spent forever on my eyeliner.” Her mom sniffs. “God, you are your mother’s child.”