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to conceal the fact that you are recovering from some kind of amnesia attack.
    You have your hand back. Soon, surely, your mind will follow.
    Sunny puts her hand on the door. In the dark, you see the flash of her teeth as she smiles at you.
    Then, without warning, she leans forward and …
    KISSES YOU.
    On the mouth.
    And it’s not a just-friends kiss either.
    You freeze. Your lips freeze.
    The night freezes.
    You do not, however, lose consciousness as you did in the movie.
    On the contrary, you are much TOO CONSCIOUS.
    Sunny does not appear to have noticed the lip chill or the parallel icing over of the local universe.
    She pulls back, smiles again, and says softly, “ ‘Night, Ducky.”
    She slides out of the car and is gone.
    Sunny kissed you, Ducky. On the mouth. With, well, feeling.
    Brendan was right.
    You were wrong.
    You sit in the car until you realize that Sunny might think you are sitting there thinking about the kiss.
    Which you are, but not in THAT way.
    You are thinking in a panicked, where’s-the-rabbit-hole kind of way.
    You start the car and drive, careful not to burn rubber or show any other signs of fear or derangement.
    You feel … MISERABLE.
    Is this the end of a beautiful friendship?
    Then you think, What is wrong with you?
    You just got kissed.
    What is the problem here?
    Midnight
    When a Kiss Is Not Just a Kiss
    You don’t care if you do have work tomorrow. You realize that you need to stay up and worry about it.
    Sunny kissed you. You did not kiss her back. Your heart raced, but not with passion. It was another P word.
    Panic.
    It felt … not right. As if it were happening to someone else. Like an experiment that failed.
    What does that mean?
    Of all the girls in all the world, Sunny would be the one you’d choose. But you’re not at all happy she chose you.
    You don’t want to be chosen. Not like that. Not by Sunny.
    WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???
    Sunny is perfect for you. You are perfect for her.
    Except for that kiss thing. That lack of he-she chemistry.
    It’s like you need a new chemistry set. …
    Enough with the similes. Or maybe I mean metaphors.
    Whatever.
    I am not going to think about this anymore.
    I’ll deal with it tomorrow.
    And hey, maybe you were wrong. You read way too much into it. It was just a
    Kiss.
    Aug. 26
    Post work.
    Post ruining Sunny’s life, possibly.
    Okay, maybe you didn’t ruin her life, but when she bounded into work smiling and saying,
    “Ducky!” like she hadn’t seen you forever and looking like she’d like to throw her arms around you if she could, you didn’t have to look the way you did.
    What way?
    With a frozen face. Like a duck in headlights.
    Sunny’s megawatt smile dims.
    You say, “Uh, hi, Sunny.”
    She’s still smiling on her way to the break room, but it’s more like one of those customer-friendly models.
    You fling yourself at an unsuspecting customer, who is a little taken aback at the detail with which you explain the Frequent Customer discount policy.
    She finally cuts you off with a “Just looking, thanks.”
    You straighten a few books on the long, long, LONG walk back to the register where Sunny is sitting, holding a mug of coffee.
    “You made the coffee switch?” you begin to babble. “Cool. I think I’ll get me some. Has your father noticed? Well, I guess not if you just did it, huh?”
    “Ducky,” she says.
    You stop babbling.
    She says, “Hey, Ducky. Relax. It was just a kiss. You were in the right place at the right time, that’s all.”
    “Yeah?” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral.
    You cannot fool Sunny.
    She knows you.
    But you don’t know her at all. What does the look she is giving you now mean?
    “Hey, nothing personal, okay?” she says.
    She pats your arm and winks at you.
    You feel scalded.
    Sunny says, “I did sneak in some new coffee. Just made it. I’ll go get you a cup.”
    You watch Sunny walk away and hope she is still your friend.
    You take the coffee when she returns. You say, “You