His arms snaked around her waist, and she sat up some, very much still in his lap. “You’d better watch it. I might take you at your word.” His eyebrows raised and he leaned towards her. It was a joke - probably? - but Sammy felt her skin prickle into minor goosebumps regardless, warmth rushing to her cheeks. This was a joke, right? Right?

There wasn’t a lot of time to think, but a single thought occurred to her: would it be so bad if it wasn’t?

Jamie was a lot like her. Both Pecaris were passionate people, incredibly playful but incredibly dedicated. He was nice, too, or at least to her, all potentially mean things always said in jest. And he was so funny. Funnier than just about anybody she knew. Nobody else made Sammy laugh like he did. That meant a lot. He never made her feel weird about being weird, either. That meant a lot, too.

And also he was warm and safe and inches away from her, so she reacted. She draped her arms loosely off his shoulders and leaned in, closing the gap between their mouths, her crooked smile disappearing from view as it pressed against him. Her arms tightened, wrapping around his neck, and she did not back down: possible mistake or not - possible misinterpretation of a joke or not - she was committed to this. Kissing him felt pretty nice.

She did pull back eventually, though, not knowing the nuances of how to breathe and kiss for any extended amount of time. Her cheeks were practically glowing red now, but she was grinning. “Okay,” she said. “Um. Now say something.”