dent in Dadâs bank account. Itâs so sad to me that someone who actually wants to go to college may not end up going and here I am, not really even wanting to go (at least not to uber-expensive Harvard!) and being forced to by rich parents. Life is so not fair.
âSo thatâs my dream,â he says with a small shrug. âYour turn.â
âI want to be a poet,â I say, deciding to go for broke. âBut everyone thinks itâs stupid. My dad says Iâm wasting my time. My friends think itâs completely geeky. But I canât help it. I love poetry. When Iâm writing, I can completely block out the world and I feel ⦠I donât know ⦠alive, or something.â
My voice cracks a little at that last bit. Great. Now Iâm going to start crying. Which is so not me. In fact, I usually take pride in the fact that Iâm not one of those overly dramatic, cry-at-the-drop-of-a-hat girls. And here I am, right in front of Sean, ready to start bawling like a baby.
Lovely.
âI know you canât make a living being a poet,â I sniff, trying to compose myself. âAnd everyone thinks theyâre a good poet, so maybe I suck. Maybe Iâm the worst poet known to mankind and Iâm just deluding myself into thinking I have some talent andââ
Sean leans over and shuts me up with a kiss.
Chapter Nine
Â
Thereâs like no buildup. No smoldering glance. No leaning in slowly and wondering which way to turn my face so we donât bump noses. Just BAM! Iâm locking lips with Sean.
Holy crap.
His lips are soft and taste like orange smoothie, and the chills they spark rocket through my body until Iâm almost convinced Iâll start shooting fireworks from my fingers and toes. Which sure would be interesting â¦
Sean pulls away a moment later, way too soon for my liking. âSorry,â he says, and I can see heâs blushing. How adorable. âYou just look so cute when you get all passionate. I couldnât help myself.â
He is the most wonderful boy ever. Possibly the most wonderful boy in the entire universe. I want to marry him and have his babies and grow old and hang out in matching rocking chairs on our front porch watching the youngâuns and saying things like, âBack in our day, we didnât behave like these whippersnappers.â
 Not that Iâm going to admit that right now. Donât want the boy to jump up and run from the room screaming.
âItâs okay,â I say shyly, staring down at my smoothie. âI kind of liked it.â
âYeah? Cool,â he says, sounding a bit shy himself. He is so cute I cannot even stand it. âWanna go dance some more?â
Um, dance? No effing way. I donât want to dance. I want to stay right here and make out with Sean until the sun rises over the horizon. And then continue until it sets and rises again. In fact, Iâm pretty convinced if Sean were to kiss me nonstop for the next fifty years, I still wouldnât have my fill of his scrumptious lips.
âSure,â I say out loud. âLetâs go dance.ââCause like I said, I so donât want to scare the guy off. Iâve got to play my cards right. Not be too easy. Keep him wanting me. Desiring me. At least thatâs what I read in last monthâs Cosmo .
So we head back on the dance floor. Itâs late, but Iâm even more exuberant than before, the kiss having flooded me with energy. We dance and we laugh and we dance some more. I have no sense of time or place. Just the here and now. The being with Sean. The amazing Sean. Sigh.
âTime to go!â
It seems only minutes later, but has probably been hours when Starr interrupts me with the mandate of returning home before her dad wakes up and finds us gone. Reluctantly, Sean and I follow her and Eddie out of the warehouse. Iâm shocked to see that the sun is already peeking over the trees.
âSo thatâs my dream,â he says with a small shrug. âYour turn.â
âI want to be a poet,â I say, deciding to go for broke. âBut everyone thinks itâs stupid. My dad says Iâm wasting my time. My friends think itâs completely geeky. But I canât help it. I love poetry. When Iâm writing, I can completely block out the world and I feel ⦠I donât know ⦠alive, or something.â
My voice cracks a little at that last bit. Great. Now Iâm going to start crying. Which is so not me. In fact, I usually take pride in the fact that Iâm not one of those overly dramatic, cry-at-the-drop-of-a-hat girls. And here I am, right in front of Sean, ready to start bawling like a baby.
Lovely.
âI know you canât make a living being a poet,â I sniff, trying to compose myself. âAnd everyone thinks theyâre a good poet, so maybe I suck. Maybe Iâm the worst poet known to mankind and Iâm just deluding myself into thinking I have some talent andââ
Sean leans over and shuts me up with a kiss.
Chapter Nine
Â
Thereâs like no buildup. No smoldering glance. No leaning in slowly and wondering which way to turn my face so we donât bump noses. Just BAM! Iâm locking lips with Sean.
Holy crap.
His lips are soft and taste like orange smoothie, and the chills they spark rocket through my body until Iâm almost convinced Iâll start shooting fireworks from my fingers and toes. Which sure would be interesting â¦
Sean pulls away a moment later, way too soon for my liking. âSorry,â he says, and I can see heâs blushing. How adorable. âYou just look so cute when you get all passionate. I couldnât help myself.â
He is the most wonderful boy ever. Possibly the most wonderful boy in the entire universe. I want to marry him and have his babies and grow old and hang out in matching rocking chairs on our front porch watching the youngâuns and saying things like, âBack in our day, we didnât behave like these whippersnappers.â
 Not that Iâm going to admit that right now. Donât want the boy to jump up and run from the room screaming.
âItâs okay,â I say shyly, staring down at my smoothie. âI kind of liked it.â
âYeah? Cool,â he says, sounding a bit shy himself. He is so cute I cannot even stand it. âWanna go dance some more?â
Um, dance? No effing way. I donât want to dance. I want to stay right here and make out with Sean until the sun rises over the horizon. And then continue until it sets and rises again. In fact, Iâm pretty convinced if Sean were to kiss me nonstop for the next fifty years, I still wouldnât have my fill of his scrumptious lips.
âSure,â I say out loud. âLetâs go dance.ââCause like I said, I so donât want to scare the guy off. Iâve got to play my cards right. Not be too easy. Keep him wanting me. Desiring me. At least thatâs what I read in last monthâs Cosmo .
So we head back on the dance floor. Itâs late, but Iâm even more exuberant than before, the kiss having flooded me with energy. We dance and we laugh and we dance some more. I have no sense of time or place. Just the here and now. The being with Sean. The amazing Sean. Sigh.
âTime to go!â
It seems only minutes later, but has probably been hours when Starr interrupts me with the mandate of returning home before her dad wakes up and finds us gone. Reluctantly, Sean and I follow her and Eddie out of the warehouse. Iâm shocked to see that the sun is already peeking over the trees.
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