At ten the next morning, Susan and I were together with George. By that time Mario would have normally texted me at least once, but he hadn't yet. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to or not, honestly. Everything was still so fresh in my mind. How was I even supposed to act? What should I back?

Still, every time my phone made a sound for the first hour, I checked it. Susan noticed it fifteen minutes into our outing. "Waiting to hear from Larry?" she asked. "Worried he's going to need help with those college applications he's supposed to be working on?"

"Oh, um, yes," I lied. "He was working hard on perfecting his essay this morning." . He had plans with Jimmy and Maria. They were meeting up around lunch to . . . whatever it was they had planned . I usually ignored what Larry did.

Susan nodded but looked skeptical. Not that I blamed her. She gave me an out and we both knew that, while I loved Larry, I going to help him with any of his college stuff like I did with his normal homework. Not that I was smarter than him – I just had a knack for researching stuff. Still, I was glad when she didn't push it.

Around lunch, Don joined us and then we broke off into couples: Susan and Don, me and George. George and I went to his house and hung out in his living room while his mom was working in her home office. She was one of those people that worked from home – and made good money at it, too – so that she'd be there when her kid got home. I admired her for that.

George put on a movie we hadn't seen yet, and we snuggled on the couch to watch it. After about an hour of the movie, my phone buzzed. I checked it. Mario. Are we cool?

I picked it up, about to respond, when George paused the movie. "Why are you texting?"

"Um."

He sighed. "You know I don't think it's right to text other people when you're with someone," he said in a calm, reasoning voice. Not upset. Not yet. "Who are you even texting?"

I glanced at the screen. "It's not important." I put my phone on the coffee table and went back to my spot on his shoulder.

He frowned. "I'm serious. Who was it?"

I chewed my lip a moment before responding. "Mario. We had a fight last night after the play. He was just checking to see if I'd forgiven him yet."

George frowned. "You didn't tell me you saw him."

"Well, I'm telling you now."

He stayed quiet, but I could tell he wasn't happy, even when he took my hand in his. "Have you?" he asked a couple of minutes later.

"I don't know," I replied honestly as I watched him slot our fingers together and then rub my hand between his before repeating the actions. "I guess we'll find out Monday when I see him again." I wasn't sure if I should, and I wasn't sure that I shouldn't. There weren't any rules. I knew this and yet I felt like I was learning this the hard way. That small yet huge fact only left me even more uncertain if I was doing the right thing, or what the right thing even was.

"What was the fight about?"

Shouldn't I feel like I could tell him anything by now? We'd been friends for years at this point, and had only recently, in the grand scheme of things, become something more. Just what we were was something I didn't know how to define. We were more than friends, but we hadn't crossed the border into the land of lovers yet. He wasn't even my boyfriend. Technically, we had been seeing each other for a bit, but we weren't dating.

The fact that I felt like I couldn't tell him about something only made me feel like I was sneaking around behind his back.

He sighed and leaned his head over on mine. I closed my eyes, more from being sleepy than because I was comfortable, and began to drift off. It seemed like no time passed when I became aware the TV was quiet and someone was running their fingers lightly through my hair and down my jaw. For a brief second, I thought I was back with Mario last night, but I quickly realized George was the one gently brushing his thumb across my cheek.

"The movie's off," he whispered. I turned my head and breathed him in. Nothing. He smelled like his soap, which I knew was some kind of Axe bodywash, but nothing else. I wondered what Mario smelled like and felt bad. George kissed my head. "My arm also fell asleep at some point."

I smiled and lifted my head. He was watching me closely. "Sorry."

"It's okay." He leaned in and my heart sped up. The scene with Mario played on a loop in my head. George tucked my hair behind my ear, and he moved slowly towards me as if an unknown force was pulling him. I knew I should have been moving closer, too, but I couldn't. At the last moment before his lips touched mine, I turned my head and the kiss landed somewhere near my ear. He pulled back as soon as he realized.

I gave him a small smile that I hoped didn't look forced, and said, "We're not even dating yet."

He returned my smile. "Fair point." He kissed my cheek. "I guess it's time I take you home, huh?"

"Probably. What time is it?" The scent of something cooking was coming from his kitchen, so I knew it was probably close to six. I checked my phone. 5:45. "Ya, I should be going."

"I'll drive you."

"Thanks."

---

The ride back was short, but it felt long to me. Two boys had tried to kiss me in twenty-four hours. A new record. I had never kissed anyone, mostly because I wasn't the sort that went to parties or was very popular.

I can't say I ever got bullied much, either. When George came into my he stood up for me and put an end to the bullying that did happen. It was part of what endeared him to me, actually.

Anyway, up until very recently I had never had any guys trying to get me because they all just figured I was George's girl and left it at that. I think, anyway.

George pulled in my drive and parked. "Here we are." He smiled over at me and ran his finger down my cheek. "Good night, beautiful."

I returned his smile while I felt my face heat up. "Good night, George."

He dropped his hand, took mine, and kissed it. I kissed his cheek and got out. He stayed long enough to make sure I got in the house safely before backing out.

Dinner smells were coming from the kitchen when I walked and I felt a sudden stab of panic. Larry. I had forgotten we were supposed to cook. I hurried into the kitchen. Larry turned around and glared at me. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I said in a rush as I tossed my bag into a chair.

He shook his head and sighed. "Dinner's about done. Dad and Aunt Millie are going to be home any time now. Just go wash your hands for dinner."

"I'm still sorry I'm late. I fell asleep."

He raised an eyebrow, the glare softening. "Fell asleep?"

"George and I were watching a movie and I kind of fell asleep on him." I shrugged sheepishly.

Larry glanced at the stove. "This time it's okay." He turned away, ending the conversation.

I grabbed my bag and headed upstairs. While I got ready for dinner, Mario kept invading my mind. All of this was kind of sudden. It'd only been a month since he'd come back. Not that I'm counting. That wasn't enough time to fall for me. It wasn't enough time to fall for anyone.

Though, I have to say I wasn't all that upset after the almost-kiss. Which left me to wonder exactly how I felt. I knew how I should feel, which was upset at him and embarrassed, but I didn't. I wasn't happy about it, but I certainly wasn't upset with him. I was more embarrassed that when I was with George, I was thinking about Mario. If that was how I felt, what did that mean? I liked George. I liked him a lot. He made my heart and he still gave me butterflies, but not like he used to.

---

After dinner, I followed Larry upstairs, and then to his room. He flopped onto his bed, and I sat in his office chair and pulled one leg to my chest. A silence stretched on.

His room was dark, and he didn't have any posters on the walls or anything like that, really. The only personal items were a hockey stick in one corner, a basketball, and his guitar. He'd learned to play when he was thirteen, but had since gotten caught up in sports, which took all the time he used to devote to playing.

"Larry."

"What?"

I was quiet for a moment, phrasing my question in my head. "Do you think Mario likes me? Like, as a girlfriend?"

He lifted his head, peering at me over his stomach. "Where did that come from?"

"Come on, just answer. You're a guy. You can understand him better than I can."

He sat up. "While I don't dispute that, let's be clear about one thing: Just because I'm a guy it doesn't mean I know everything about other guys, just like you don't know everything about other girls." I rolled my eyes. "As long as we're clear. Yes, I do think he does. Why are you asking?"

"What makes you think that?"

Larry frowned. "There's something in his eyes when he looks at you that softens and he seems jealous of George. Why are you asking about this?"

"Don't you think that's kind of quick, though? We haven't been hanging out more than a month!"

"It's not that quick, considering. Now, why are you asking me? Did something happen?"

I stared at him for a long moment. He crossed his arms and waited. "Well," I started, looking down. It wasn't something I would've told him about normally, but I wasn't going to lie or hide it. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

He sighed. "Unless it's really bad, I promise I won't."

I nodded once. A beat of silence passed. "Last night, when he lost his keys and locked his phone in his car, we hung out. He told me I looked nice, and I returned the compliment. Then he said he liked my hair and tried to kiss me a minute or two later. He didn't actually kiss me - he pulled away before anything happened."

Larry studied me with narrowed eyes. "What did you do?"

I rested my chin on my knee. Telling him that I gave Mario the perfect opportunity to kiss me was out of the question. Not to mention I was pretty sure he was asking about afterwards, anyway. "Well, I didn't really say anything to him, and I left him on read when he texted earlier." I didn't forget to reply – I just wasn't sure how to respond to him.

"Probably for the best. If you still want to go out with George, that is."

"I do!" At least, I think so. I sighed. "At any rate, Mario and I at least were friends. I don't want to lose him." I didn't want to say all of this to my brother, but it came out before I could stop it.

He sat in thoughtful silence for a long moment. "Maybe you should text him, let him know you're not mad. It couldn't hurt. Maybe you could just act like it didn't happen?"

I sighed. That seemed like the best route. In fact, I wanted it to have been nothing. That would make this easier to handle. "Besides," I said. "He may have just been caught up in the moment and didn't mean anything by it. The dark does that, right? Makes you think you feel things you don't normally."

Larry sighed and shook his head. "If that's the excuse you want."

I took out my phone and texted Mario. Sorry I didn't respond earlier – I was busy. Yes, we're cool. It sent and let out a breath. I looked at Larry. "I hope he'll stay my friend."

He raised one eyebrow, made a noncommittal noise, and flopped back on his bed.