Did she not tell me because she thought I couldn’t handle it?
Could I handle it?
The drums kicked in. Kevin leaned back, stretching his arm across my shoulders. “You sure you’re all right? You seem kind of on edge.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
I turned to face him. He smiled his standard Kevin smile, warm and comfortable and real. I relaxed and smiled back easily. Any time he smiled that smile, I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
His deep brown eyes were soft and warm, and I reached over to loop my hand through his. I turned up the music as high as it would go, and I kissed him.
I wanted to stop him from asking if I was all right. I wanted to stop all these thoughts whirling in my head. I wanted to stop this fear that kept churning through me with no explanation.
This was where I belonged. With my lips against Kevin’s, his arms curving around my waist.
With my eyes shut, it was easy to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. Being in that spot, with that eerie music playing and this boy running his fingers up and down my spine, was all I’d ever want.
I sank into the feeling of being close. I lost track of time as we kissed and kissed again, and suddenly the whole world was nothing but kissing and music and warmth. Deliciously uncomplicated. As though I was dreaming it all.
We kissed some more, and before long his hand was up my shirt. Usually I tried not to go much further than that, but tonight, I couldn’t remember why. I wanted to keep feeling the way I did. I wanted to feel even more of it.
I climbed onto his lap, my knees straddling his hips, and he ran his hands up and down the sides of my jeans. He looked as though he was about to say something, but I kissed him before he could.
When I moved in closer, he made a noise in the back of his throat. I took in a deep breath and ordered myself to relax and let whatever happened, happen.
And what happened was, I gave Kevin my first-ever blow job in the front seat of his Camaro.
Wow. It feels strange to write those words. It feels strange just thinking about it, now that it’s over. I know it’s supposed to be a big deal, and I can only imagine how Sister Catherine would react, ha, but now that I’m at home and trying to think back on what a big deal it was…
I’m mostly still thinking about Tammy. Just like before.
When Kevin and I were sitting in the car at the end of the night, listening to the last song, the words Tammy wrote popped into my head out of nowhere.
Not from the letter about Carolyn—from the one she wrote to me. When she said she’d miss me.
Can you miss someone you’ve never met?
I can. I do. I miss the real Tammy. The one I never got to know, because she didn’t tell me the truth.
But I know why she didn’t tell me. She couldn’t.
She couldn’t tell anyone. Just like Peter.
Now that I know about her, I could hurt her, if I wanted to. I could tell one of my teachers, and they could tell one of her teachers. Her family would find out.
That’s when I knew I had to write back to her. I had to make sure she knew I’d never do that.
I should go volunteer at Evelyn’s bookstore, too. Maybe I can help stop Prop 6 from passing. My friends might think it’s gross to be gay, but I’m not like them. I need to make sure Tammy knows that.
“Are you, um…?” Kevin cleared his throat. He was staring straight ahead through the foggy windshield. “All right?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Great, actually.”
He smiled at me and turned on the ignition.
Half an hour later, as he was walking me to my front