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THE NEXT NIGHT PETER AND I study at Starbucks for a few hours—well, I study, and he keeps getting up and talking to people from school. On the way home he asks, “Did you sign up for the ski trip?” #2 | | |
“No. I’m a terrible skier.” Only cool people like Peter and his friends go on the ski trip. I could try to twist Chris’s arm into going, but she’d probably laugh in my face. She’s not going on any school trip. #3 | | |
“You don’t have to ski. You can snowboard. That’s what I’m doing.” #4 | | |
I give him a look. “Can you picture me snowboarding?” #5 | | |
“I’ll teach you. Come on, it’ll be fun.” Peter grabs my hand and says, “Please please please, Lara Jean? Come on, be a sport. It’ll be fun, I promise.” #6 | | |
He catches me by surprise with this. The ski trip isn’t until winter break. So he wants to keep this, us, up until then. For some reason I feel relieved. #7 | | |
“If you don’t want to snowboard,” he continues, “the lodge has a big stone fireplace and big comfy chairs. You can sit and read for hours. And they sell the best hot chocolate. I’ll buy you one.” He squeezes my hand. #8 | | |
My heart does a little zing, and I say, “All right, I’ll go. But the hot chocolate had better be as good as you say.” #9 | | |
“I’ll buy you as many as you want.” #10 | | |
“Then you better bring a lot of singles,” I say, and Peter snorts. “What?” #11 | | |
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When we get to my house, I climb out and he drives away before it occurs to me I left my bag on the floor of his car, and Daddy and Kitty aren’t home. They’re at Kitty’s school for parent-teacher conferences. #13 | | |
I fumble around blindly under the deck, feeling around in the dark for the spare keys we keep hidden under the wheelbarrow. Then I remember that the spare keys are in the junk drawer, in the house, because I forgot to put them back the last time I got locked out. I have no keys, no phone, no way of getting into the house. #14 | | |
Josh! Josh has a spare key. He’s watered my dad’s plants for him a few times when we went away on vacation. #15 | | |
I find a rock in the driveway and I cross the lawn and stand underneath Josh’s window. I throw the rock at it and I miss. I find another one, and it pings off the glass, barely making a sound. I try again, with a bigger rock. This one hits. #16 | | |
Josh opens the window and leans his head out. “Hey. Did Kavinsky leave already?” #17 | | |
Surprised, I say, “Yeah. I left my bag in his car. Can you throw down the spare keys?” #18 | | |
Josh sighs, like I’m asking for something huge. “Hold on.” Then he disappears. #19 | | |
I stand there and wait for him to come back to the window, but he doesn’t. He comes outside the front door instead. He’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. It’s Margot’s favorite hoodie. When they first got together, she used to wear it all the time, like it was a letterman’s jacket or something. #20 | | |
I hold my hand out for the keys and Josh drops them in my hand. “Thanks, Joshy.” #21 | | |
I turn to leave, but he says, “Wait. I’m worried about you.” #22 | | |
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He sighs heavily and adjusts his glasses. He only wears his glasses at night. “This thing with Kavinsky . . .” #24 | | |
“Not that again. Josh—” #25 | | |
“He’s a player. He’s not good enough for you. You’re . . . innocent. You’re not like other girls. He’s a typical guy. You can’t trust him.” #26 | | |
“I think I know him a lot better than you do.” #27 | | |
“I’m just looking out for you.” Josh clears his throat. “You’re like my little sister.” #28 | | |
I want to hit him for saying that. “No I’m not,” I say. #29 | | |
An uneasy look crosses over Josh’s face. I know what he’s thinking, because we’re both thinking it. #30 | | |
Then, headlights are beaming down our street. It’s Peter’s car. He’s come back. I hand Josh his set of keys and run over to my driveway. Over my shoulder I call out, “Thanks, Joshy!” #31 | | |
I come around the front to the driver’s side. Peter’s window is down. “You forgot your bag,” he says, glancing over toward Josh’s house. #32 | | |
“I know,” I say breathlessly. “Thanks for coming back.” #33 | | |
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“I don’t know. He was a minute ago.” #35 | | |
“Then just in case,” Peter says, and he leans his head out and kisses me on the lips, open-mouthed and sure. #36 | | |
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When he pulls away, Peter’s smiling. “Night, Lara Jean.” #38 | | |
He drives off into the night and I’m still standing there with my fingers to my lips. Peter Kavinsky just kissed me. He kissed me, and I liked it. I’m pretty sure I liked it. I’m pretty sure I like him. #39 | | |
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The next morning I’m at my locker, putting my books away, when I see Peter walking down the hallway. My heart thumps in my chest so loud I can hear it echo in my ears. He hasn’t seen me yet. I duck my head into my locker and start arranging my books into a pile. #41 | | |
From behind the locker door he says, “Hey.” #42 | | |
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“I just want to set your mind at ease, Covey. I’m not going to kiss you again, so don’t worry about it.” #44 | | |
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So that’s that. It doesn’t matter if I like him or not, because he doesn’t like me back. It’s kind of silly to feel so disappointed about something you only just realized you wanted, isn’t it? #46 | | |
Don’t let him see that you’re disappointed. #47 | | |
I face him. “I wasn’t worrying about it.” #48 | | |
“Yes you were. Look at you: your face is all pinched together like a clam.” Peter laughs, and I try to unpinch my face, to look serene. “It’s not going to happen again. It was all for Sanderson’s benefit.” #49 | | |
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