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  Normal?

  After class is over, I have every intention of talking to Tristan about our kiss, but he holds out car keys for me as we walk onto the parking lot.

  I groan.

  Why do they always force me to drive? I mean, it’s probably at Zach’s request, but I hate driving. I feel much better when I ride with them.

  When I get in the driver’s seat, I have to move the seat forward a good foot before I can even reach the pedals.

  “You’re really short,” Tristan says.

  “Yeah, well, you’re really tall,” I say.

  He nods.

  When Tristan kissed me, he had to bend down to reach my lips. Had I known he was going to kiss me, I would’ve tried to accommodate him. I would’ve tilted my head up and maybe stood on the tips of my toes.

  I really want to kiss him again.

  But I really need to focus right now.

  I have to drive.

  Right.

  “Pretty soon we will be cleaning snow off the cars every morning,” Tristan says.

  “You won’t make me drive in the snow, right?” I ask.

  Because I’m from LA and everybody knows that people from LA can’t drive in the rain, let alone the snow.

  “Not this year,” he says.

  Not this year?

  I frown, but decide that I’ll worry about that later. Right now, I have more important things to focus on—like, how I’m going to back out of this parking spot, and wondering if I will get to kiss Tristan again tonight. I hope so, because I want to.

  I put the car in reverse and sigh when I look where the back-up camera screen should be, then I turn to look behind me.

  “You could look in your mirror instead of physically turning to look,” Tristan says.

  “Meh,” I say. “This is easier.”

  He shakes his head. “How the heck did you pass your driver’s test?”

  “My stepdad took me to take my test,” I say. “The person giving me the test kind of fan-girled over him hardcore. Maybe that’s why I passed. I thought at the time it was because I was a good driver. Am I really that bad?”

  “I’ll let you know,” he says.

  Ah, right. This is his first-time riding with me.

  Eventually, I am backed out of my spot. I manage to not hit anybody else, so I’d already call it a success. As I am pulling onto the road, I somehow manage to run the vehicle up on the curb, but at least I don’t hit the stop sign that is inches away. I seriously have no idea how I got that close.

  “Oops,” I say, grinning. I keep my eyes on the road, but I’m sure Tristan is shaking his head in disproval.

  Tristan doesn’t say anything, not one word, the entire drive. I hope he’s just being quiet so I can focus, and not because he’s scared of my driving.

  Eh, these guys have done fear training, they can handle anything.

  I try not to think too much about fear training. Cam tells me that he had to jump from a plane, as does everybody at Spy School, but that I’ll have to conquer my fear of small spaces. Just thinking about that has me on the verge of a panic attack, so I steer my thoughts clear of that.

  Eventually, I manage to pull the vehicle into the driveway without hitting anybody or anything.

  “Maybe practicing on the road is too much for you,” Tristan says, after the car is in park.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I mean, you probably shouldn’t be driving on the road because your driving is horrible,” he says.

  I laugh.

  I don’t know why I laugh, but hearing Tristan tell me how bad a driver I am is hilarious.

  Tristan is nice. Really nice. And if he’s calling me out on my driving, it must be bad.

  “You’re crazy,” he says.

  “I know.”

  “I’m starving,” Tristan says. “We should probably order some food.”

  We were supposed to eat the food we cooked tonight, but there was no way either one of us was going to do that. It was disgusting.

  “Fine, but no pizza,” I say.

  Tristan and I get out of the car and walk inside. He’s ordering food for us on his phone. After placing the order, he sits down on the couch with me.

  This couch.

  I really need to stop making out with all the guys on this couch.

  At least my first kiss with Tristan will always be in that room where we took our cooking class. That’s a good memory.

  “You look like you’re in deep thought,” Tristan says.

  I glance over to him and see that he’s watching me. “You kissed me.”

  Yep. Like ripping off a band aid. I might as well put it all on the table.

  “I did,” he says.

  I bite my lip, not knowing what to say.

  “I probably should’ve made sure you were okay with it, but you were so cute in your apron and pony tail hair thing,” he says. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “I’m okay with it,” I say, then look down at my hands just because looking him in the eyes is too much right now. “You already know how I feel about you.”

  Tristan grabs a hold of my hand, so I look up at him. He’s smiling.

  “I do know how you feel about me,” he says. “Or I think I know.”

  “I’m crazy about you,” I say.

  It’s the truth.

  How I feel for the other guys doesn’t matter right now, because right now I am with Tristan and he is everything to me.

  “I’ve never kissed a girl before you,” he says.

  My mouth falls open. “Seriously?”

  “That shocks you?”

  I nod. “Because you’re... you know.”

  “I’m what?”

  My face grows warm. “You’re hot.” I clear my throat. “And smart. Very smart. That’s the most important part. You’re also fun to be around. I’m just surprised you haven’t kissed and dated a lot of girls.”

  “Just like I’m surprised you haven’t kissed and dated a lot of guys in California,” he says. “Boys there were dumb for passing you by.”

  They didn’t exactly pass me by, but they usually had ulterior motives. I don’t have to worry about that with my guys. They liked me before they knew who my family was or what my last name was. They liked me before I passed torture training. They liked me from the first day, when I was this scared, lost, little girl trying to find her way around this odd placed called Spy School.

  “Maybe saving my first kiss was fate,” I say. “Because I feel like I would’ve regretted kissing other guys before...”

  Before Cam.

  Okay, so technically Tristan won’t be my first kiss. Or my second. But it doesn’t make it any less special for me. I’ve waited for him, just like I’ve waited for all the guys.

  “I get what you mean.” Tristan says. “I feel the same way about you.”

  “Does it matter that I kissed Cam and Dylan first?” I ask.

  “No,” he says.

  “Are you not jealous?”

  He shrugs. “Do you like them more than me?”

  I think about his question. Really think about it.

  Do I like Cam more than Tristan?

  Do I like Dylan more than Austin?

  Or any of them more than Stefan?

  The answer is no. I like them all very equally, which is why I’m having such a hard time deciding which one of them I should date.

  I shake my head. “I like you the same as them.”

  He grins. “Okay, then. I have no reason to be jealous. I waited until I was ready to kiss you, and I just happened to be ready in the middle of a cooking class.”

  “It was definitely unforgettable.”

  “But too short,” he says. “I want to kiss you again. This time without an audience.”

  My heart starts pounding fast.

  I wonder if I will ever not be nervous when I kiss these guys. I wonder if it’ll just become something ‘normal.’

  Well, it certainly felt normal with Dylan. Wel
l, a very exciting normal.

  “I would like that,” I say.

  Tristan leans towards me, so I meet him half way.

  His lips press against mine. He’s so gentle, like he’s going to break me, but I love it. It makes me feel special—like I’m some priceless possession that he doesn’t want to break.

  I know I shouldn’t compare the guys, but I can’t help but notice how different he kisses than Cam and Dylan.

  Dylan doesn’t ask. He just takes. Which I really like. I never have to question where I stand with him—he just lets me know through his touch and through his kisses.

  Cam is more aggressive, though maybe that isn’t the right word. He just knows what he wants and he goes after it, but he always makes sure it’s what I want, too. He always makes sure I’m okay, and I find that extremely sweet.

  If I wasn’t already falling for Tristan, I definitely am now. I’ve fallen head first and can’t even bring myself to care.

  He doesn’t kiss me like this is his first kiss... well, second. But a peck on the lips hardly counts.

  I don’t have a lot of experience, but aren’t first kisses supposed to be bad? Weren’t we supposed to bump noses? Or maybe even clank our teeth together by accident? But no. Tristan is amazing at this—a complete natural. I don’t know why I thought it would be any different. These guys are good at everything they do.

  I expect Tristan to put his hands around my waist and lift me so that I am sitting in his lap, but he doesn’t. He just kisses me so softly, teasing my lips with his.

  His kisses make me feel tingly and hot.

  I feel like I never want to stop kissing him.

  I wonder if he’s as affected by this kiss as I am. If he was, wouldn’t I know? Would he deepen the kiss? Or something?

  Aren’t guys supposed to be grabby? Aren’t they supposed to push the limits on where they put their hands during our kisses? My guys have never done anything like that, but Tristan is making me wish he would.

  He is the one who backs away from me first. And I’m not happy about it.

  “Wow,” he says.

  “Yeah, wow,” I say, completely out of breath.

  “I didn’t expect kissing to be so intense.”

  But it is intense.

  Very intense.

  “You’re a very good kisser,” I say.

  He smiles. “So are you. But I think we need adult supervision.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think I could kiss you in front of other people. It would be too weird.”

  “Would you kiss me in front of the other guys?”

  I think about his question.

  I hadn’t thought about that. But what if one of them does kiss me in front of the other guys?

  “Everybody would be jealous,” I say.

  “What if they weren’t jealous, though?” he asks.

  “I guess if nobody was jealous, I would,” I say. “It would be weird, though.”

  “Maybe.”

  I guess if I am going to date anybody on our team, I’ll eventually be kissing them in front of the others. But that still seems so weird. I’ve kissed three of them now. What happens when I inevitably choose one?

  My chest hurts at the thought.

  I know it’s something I should really think about, but I push that aside for another day. Future me can worry about the problem.

  “I’m going to make sure nobody is jealous,” Tristan says.

  “How can you be sure of that?” I ask.

  “Just trust me,” he says.

  And I do trust him—with my life. I worry about this particular subject, though, because I feel that how I feel for the guys and how they feel for me could completely ruin everything.

  Still, I have to try, right?

  The doorbell goes off, so Tristan gets up to get the food.

  I’m so thankful that I confessed the truth to Tristan. I’m glad he’s taking care of everything for me. I can’t help but worry, still. He seems to think everything is going to fall into place and work out perfectly, but what if I mess everything up. What if everybody hates each other when it’s all said and done? Do I really want to be the cause of ending their friendship?

  I don’t.

  But Tristan says to trust him, so I will.

  I still just worry...

  “I know that look,” Tristan says, spreading the food out on the table. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out just how it’s supposed to.”

  “I know,” I say, forcing myself to smile. “I still worry that you guys would be better off without me. I wonder if I should accept the invitation to another team.”

  “Please, don’t do that,” he says.

  “I won’t,” I say. “Not without talking to you guys first. I just... I feel so torn.”

  “Zara, just trust me.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  He grins, but I can tell it’s forced.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. That kiss was everything. I won’t be leaving the team. I’m selfish, Tristan. I’m so selfish, because I can’t bring myself to leave you guys.”

  “Good. We don’t want you to leave.”

  My heart races at his words.

  We.

  He didn’t just say I.

  The guys want me with them.

  But would they if they knew the full extent of my feelings?

  Friday, October 19

  No knocking.

  Cam comes to pick me up on Friday morning and he just invites himself into my bathroom. Apparently, this is going to be a thing now—the guys watching me fix my hair. He didn’t even knock, though in his defense, I did leave the door open. I’m already dressed so I can’t be mad at him, but I make a mental note to close my door when I’m getting a shower from now on. Nobody wants to accidentally walk in and see me naked.

  Or maybe they do because they’re teenage boys.

  “Hey,” Cam says.

  “Hey,” I say.

  My hair is still curled from yesterday, I’m just fixing a few spots that I slept on.

  “You should wear your hair in that ponytail thing you do,” he says.

  I grin, looking over at him. “You think so?”

  He nods.

  I wasn’t going to wear my hair in a ponytail, but now I kind of want to just because he asked. I think it’s cute that he likes when I wear my hair up. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to use one of the new scrunchies my mom sent me.

  My mom has been sending me a ton of clothes and stuff through the mail. I think she feels bad about everything that’s gone on and she’s trying to buy my love with material possessions. I want to tell her that I love her and forgive her, that there is no need to send stuff, but I do like the stuff.

  I should call her. I haven’t talked to any of my family in a little while. Only because we’re always so busy.

  Once I finish curling my hair, I walk into my bedroom and grab one of the scrunchies that Mom sent. I use an elastic band first, then I put in the scrunchie.

  “Why do you use two hair ties?” Cam asks.

  “The scrunchie won’t hold my hair,” I say. “So, I use the rubber band to put my hair up and the scrunchie because it’s cute.”

  “Huh,” he says. “Girls are weird.”

  “Which would you use if you had to put your hair up?”

  “Just the practical one,” he says. “But I guess the cute one looks good.”

  I laugh.

  Boys.

  “You always spend a lot of time getting ready in the morning,” he says.

  I shrug. “I want to look nice. Is that a bad thing?”

  “No,” he says. “I like the way you look—your hair is always cute. And I like your clothes.”

  “What about my makeup?” I ask, fluttering my eyelashes.

  “You wear makeup?”

  I nod. “Everyday.”

  “Huh. I hadn’t noticed,” Cam says.

  “I feel like I should be offended, but you’ve se
en me enough without makeup that I can’t be,” I say.

  “You’re always beautiful.”

  Oh.

  My.

  Gosh.

  How does Cam always do that? How does he always make me feel so... wanted and beautiful?

  “Thank you,” I say. “I needed that today.”

  Because I’m bloated from the Chinese food Tristan and I had last night and I feel not so pretty today.

  “We should go downstairs,” Cam says. “I’m pretty sure the rule about not being in your room still stands.”

  “What Zach doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I say. “Plus, it’s a silly rule. My mom and dad never cared if I had a boy in my room.”

  “And how many boys had you had in your room before you came here?”

  “None.”

  “Exactly,” he says.

  Cam’s right.

  I should try to abide by Zach’s rules.

  I mean, I technically have. I don’t exactly invite the guys to come to my room. They just show up.

  Well, besides Stefan. He seems like he always follows the rules.

  I follow Cam downstairs. I’m surprised when I see Zach standing in the living room.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Zach raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question Cam being in my room.

  “Hey,” Zach says. “You two off to school?”

  I nod. “Oh, by the way, can you call off the whole making me drive thing? Because I’ve decided I really hate driving and I’d rather just be chauffeured around everywhere.”

  “Nice try,” he says, then looks at Cam. “She can drive to school this morning.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cam says.

  “Will you be here tonight?” I ask Zach.

  “Probably not.”

  I frown.

  He’s been gone so much.

  “I’ll make time to hang out some next week, okay?”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  I understand why he’s busy, it just sucks for me.

  After a quick goodbye to Zach, Cam and I head out to the car. I look at him.

  “Do I really have to drive?” I ask.

  “Nah,” he says. “I’ll drive.”

  Good.

  We both get in and take off towards school.

  “How are things?” Cam asks. “Is everybody on the team being nice?”

  I wonder if I should tell him about Austin and how he’s been, but I decide against it. He certainly doesn’t want me to complain about every little thing somebody does that hurts my feelings, right?