If You Could See the Sun

by Ann Liang

Then, before I can lose my nerve, I seize Henry Li’s collar and kiss him.

“Alice. You just bit me.”

“It’s not funny,” I protest, my cheeks hot, my voice coming out embarrassingly shrill. “This—this was meant to be a very serious, touching moment, and you were meant to fall desperately in love with me on the spot and discover how good I am—” The rest of my words die on my tongue as Henry straightens, laughter still dancing in his eyes, cups my face in one hand, and presses his lips against mine.

There’s a slight chance that he’s better at this than I am. Just this once, I’ll let him have it.