Choker by Elizabeth Woods Page B

this morning?” Her voice was friendly and relaxed. The tension of the previous moment was gone.
    Cara exhaled. “Well,” she said, wiggling into the proper position for a good talk. “I was in the training room, like I said, stretching out, and I’d taken off my shirt because it was so hot.” She described Ethan’s face when he came in, and how he blushed, and then she blushed. “And we actually, like, talked , for maybe five minutes. And he said I was funny. I think guys really like that in a girl, don’t you think?”
    Zoe nodded. “Totally. That’s usually one of the things they say is most important. That and big boobs.” She stuffed another chip in her mouth.
    Cara rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ve got one out of two.” She thought of the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled. Unable to sit still all of a sudden, she jumped up from the blanket and cruised the perimeter of the stall, tracing the splintery old wood with her fingers. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. He’ll never be with me—he’s got Alexis.”
    She turned around. Zoe was watching her. She seemed to be considering something. “Do you think he’d go out with you if she wasn’t in the picture?”
    “Like if they broke up for real?” Cara snorted. “Zo, first of all, that’ll never happen. They’ve been together since freshman year, and they break up all the time, but it never sticks. Second, Ethan’s never going to make a move on me because I’m me. I mean, look at this.” She spread her arms, indicating her stained navy hoodie and baggy, faded jeans.
    “That’s not true,” Zoe said indignantly. “You’re a thousand times nicer and cuter than Alexis Bitchmobile. He just hasn’t realized it yet. But he will eventually—I know it.”
    Cara shrugged and collapsed on the gray blanket. “I’m happy for crumbs. I did get to talk with him alone.”
    Zoe blinked. “Wait. Was this the first time you’d actually been alone with a cute guy?”
    Cara thought briefly about denying it—she knew how lame it was—but it was no good around Zoe. She nodded.
    Zoe stretched her legs out in front of her and leaned back on her palms. “Okay, so be honest. Have you been out on a date yet? Even in a group?”
    Cara shook her head. “No. Never. I’ve barely been to any parties since high school started.” She sighed and sank down in front of Zoe on her knees. “I know how lame that sounds.”
    Zoe smiled. “Whatever. You don’t have to worry about sounding lame in front of me. But wait, I’m not done.”
    Cara sort of wished she’d drop this particular line of questioning, but Zoe was pinning her in place with the force of her violet eyes.
    Zoe leaned forward. “Have you ever kissed a guy before?” Her voice was low and conspiratorial. Her breath smelled a little stale.
    Cara shook her head. “No. See how screwed I am? I’m seventeen, and I’ve still never kissed anyone!”
    “So how are you going to know what to do when you finally do kiss a guy?” Zoe raised her eyebrows.
    “I don’t know. Get a book out of the library?” Cara giggled nervously.
    Zoe scooted a little closer. She hadn’t shaved her legs in a while, and dark hairs sprinkled the white flesh of her thighs. “Well, you should practice,” she said.
    Cara barked a laugh. “Right. With a pillow? Or maybe Samson?”
    “No, dumbass.” Zoe playfully smacked her shoulder. “With me.” She leaned forward and put both hands on Cara’s blue-jeaned knees.
    “What?” Cara wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly.
    “I’ll practice kissing with you. That way, the next time the situation comes up, you’ll be ready.” Her eyes stared directly into Cara’s.
    Cara shifted a little on the gray blanket. She could feel the scratchy wool pricking her through her jeans. What Zoe was saying did make sense. She couldn’t deny all the times she’d thought in panic that she was going to look like a total idiot when— if —some guy ever did want to kiss