Cassie
I had kissed Brett Matthews.
That sentence had been running through my head since Saturday night, and by Monday morning it had somehow become more embarrassing instead of less.
Not because the kiss was bad.
The exact opposite, actually.
I’d spent years imagining what kissing Brett would feel like, which should’ve made the real thing disappointing. There was no way an actual kiss could compete with four years of pathetic fantasies.
Unfortunately, it had.
“You’re smiling again.”
I immediately stopped.
Sophia looked at me from across the Delta kitchen table. “Too late.”
“I wasn’t smiling.”
“You’ve been smiling at your cereal for five minutes.”
“Maybe I really like Cheerios.”
“You hate Cheerios.”
I looked down at my bowl.
She was right.
“Shut up.”
She laughed and return
