From the Top (Central State, #2)

by Jaqueline Snowe

She smelled like peaches and vanilla. Two of my favorite flavors.

She stepped to the right to leave, and I tried to say wait and hold on at the same time, the awkward sound of wold leaving my mouth.

“Heya,” I said, like a total idiot. I tried to say hi and hey, and that weird sound came out, and oh my Jesus.

“When I kiss you, Cami, your eyes aren’t going to be wet from tears. You’re not going to be drunk or sad or naked in a dorm shower.”

“Thanks.” “Of course, yeah.” He shrugged, the tips of his ears burning red. I wanted to know what he was thinking. He ran a hand over his jaw a few times, shifting his weight like he was uncomfortable. “I should go.” I stood, pausing as the wave of pounding continued. “Um, thanks for—” “What are you doing today?” he blurted out, his speech way too fast and choppy to be considered smooth.

“Dude.” “What?” “You love her.”

This happened to people. Not me, but people.

“Ah, the fun I could’ve had with another me. We would’ve made Freddie’s life hell.” “You do that well all on your own,” Freddie said.