"No, Lindsay, I don't think imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," I said, rolling my eyes and smiling a little. I slipped out of the girls' dorm and closed the door behind me.
She just had to go and steal the kiss idea, didn't she? I kid, I kid.
But God, Cameron looked so uncomfortable. And so what if mine was scripted? (Not that anyone knew it, either way.) Ours wasn't special anymore!
Speaking of "ours", guess who I saw coming out of the boys' dorm?
I walked across the hall, over to him. "Hey, Sam," I said in his ear as he closed the door, his back turn to me.
He jumped and turned too quickly. "Oh, hey, Marissa."
He sounded a little surprised, but was keeping his cool, not scrambling to recover, like… say, Cameron would've.
He looked a little… tense, I guess would be the word. Not like his usual smooth rocker thing.
"What?" I asked, a bit confused.
"So, that kiss thing," he started, as direct as ever. "What was that about?"
One corner of my mouth lifted up, remembering his initial reaction. "Um, it was kinda scripted."
He looked surprised for a moment, but recovered quickly.
Wait a second, I'd never actually gotten around to telling him that, had I?
"Right, of course," he said smoothly.
My smile grew a bit. "You totally wish it wasn't." Again, I was kidding.
He shrugged. "Well, I–"
"You know what?" I said quickly, cutting him off. "We'll work on that later."
I leaned up on my toes and pecked him on the cheek.
Before he could react, I turned and started walking. "See you, Sam."
I didn't turn back around to see his expression.
