Kiss Read Free Page B

better one: Why don’t you ever talk about your —” He stopped himself short again, reconsidering. “No, not that one, either. How about —”
    Gaia let out a low grumble.
    Ed looked up at her, as if he were just struck by an idea. “Say. Can I ask you to do something instead?”
    Gaia cocked a wary eyebrow. This actually represented an easy way out, but she didn’t want him to know it.“I suppose. . . .”
    Ed grinned evilly. “Do the line from the movie.”
    â€œExcept that.”
    Ed pointed at her with both hands. “Oh, no! You can’t back out of it now. A deal’s a deal.”
    Gaia glanced at her watch. “Wow, what do you know? It’s already the end of lunch period.”
    â€œGaia!”
    She sighed, resigned. “Fine. But you better not laugh this time.”
    Ed pantomimed zippering his lip.
    Gaia held up a warning finger. “I’m not kidding, Ed.”
    Now he crossed his heart, holding up three fingers in the Scout salute.
    â€œAll right.” She moved a couple of steps to a nearby bench, plopping down on the hard, cold slats. Clearing her throat, she cast a wary eye around the immediate area. Aside from a cluster of sooty-looking pigeons pecking at the ground nearby, this particular section of the park was empty. Thank God.
    Ed repositioned his wheelchair in front of her for a better view.
    Gaia sucked in a few shallow gasps of air, gripped the neckline of her coat with two white-knuckled fists, raised a pair of wide, haunted eyes to his, and whispered, over a trembling lower lip: “I see dead people. . . . ”
    Ed the Expressionless Eagle Scout managed to maintain his deadpan for an entire second and a half. Then he let out a guffaw so loud, it echoed clear across the park, sending the pigeons exploding skyward in a frenzied, flapping cloud. It was a wonder he didn’t flip himself over backward.
    Gaia slapped her hands down on the bench, standing up in annoyance. “What’s so funny? I thought I was pretty good that time.”
    â€œGood?” Ed was doubled over now, his face bright pink. “Good?” He could barely choke out the word through his laughter.
    â€œOkay, that’s it.” Gaia kicked the side of his wheel with her boot and huffed off. “I’m outta here.”
    A few seconds later she could hear him behind her, struggling to catch her. “Gaia — wait — please —” All the laughing had left him panting for air. Good. She purposely picked up her pace. “Please — Gaia — wait up — I’m sorry — I’m sorry, but — it’s just that — if you could see what you — ”
    She turned around. “Spit it out, Ed.” Ed placed a hand on his chest, taking a moment to catch his breath. “You have got to do the most terrible impression of being scared I have ever seen in my life.”
    He cracked up again.
    Gaia hoped the sudden flush in her cheeks appeared to be a reaction to the cold.
    Ed, my color-blind friend, you have no idea. . . .

SAM
    I used to think you could pretty much divide people into two categories: those who believe in love at first sight and those who don’t.
    I was a proud member of the second category. I used to think you fell in love with your brain. . . . Um, that came out wrong. Let me rephrase. I used to think your brain was in use when you fell in love. You sort of decided it over time, like I did with Heather. I saw her, I thought, man, that girl is beautiful. I talked to her, I thought, yeah, and she’s smart and funny, too. I spent some time with her and thought, hey, we actually like a lot of the same stuff. I kissed her and thought, yo, this is fun. After that, as far as my brain and I were concerned, we were in love.
    Then I met Gaia Moore. Every time I’ve ever had anything to do with Gaia, my brain has said, shit, this girl is nothing but pain, misery, and trouble. And