Free To All the Boys I've Loved Before by Jenny Han Page A

time ago,” I say. I let out a fake little laugh. “I don’t even remember when. It might have been middle school.” Good job, Lara Jean. Keep it up.
    Slowly he says, “Right . . . but you mention going to the movies with Margot and Mike and Ben that time. That was a couple of years ago.”
    I bite my bottom lip. “Right. I mean, it was kind of a long time ago. In the grand scheme of things.” I can feel tears coming on so close that if I break concentration even for a second, if I waver, I will cry and that will make everything worse, if such a thing is possible. I must be cool and breezy and nonchalant now. Tears would ruin that.
    Josh is staring at me so hard I have to look away. “So then . . . Do you . . . or did you have feelings for me or . . . ?”
    “I mean, yes, sure, I did have a crush on you at one point, before you and Margot ever started dating. A million years ago.”
    “Why didn’t you ever say anything? Because, Lara Jean . . . God. I don’t know.” His eyes are on me, and they’re confused, but there’s something else, too. “This is crazy. I feel kind of blindsided.”
    The way he’s looking at me now, I’m suddenly in a time warp back to a summer day when I was fourteen and he was fifteen, and we were walking home from somewhere. He was looking at me so intently I was sure he was going to try to kiss me. I got nervous, so I picked a fight with him and he never looked at me like that again.
    Until this moment.
    Don’t. Just please, don’t.
    Whatever he’s thinking, whatever he wants to say, I don’t want to hear it. I will do anything, literally anything, not to hear it.
    Before he can, I say, “I’m dating someone.”
    Josh’s jaw goes slack. “What?”
    What?
    “Yup. I’m dating someone, someone I really really like, so please don’t worry about this.” I wave the letter like it’s just paper, trash, like once upon a time I didn’t literally pour my heart onto this page. I stuff it into my bag. “I was really confused when I wrote this; I don’t even know how it got sent out. Honestly, it’s not worth talking about. So please, please don’t say anything to Margot about it.”
    He nods, but that’s not good enough. I need a verbal commitment. I need to hear the words come out of his mouth. So I add, “Do you swear? On your life?” If Margot was to ever find out . . . I would want to die.
    “All right, I swear. I mean, we haven’t even spoken since she left.”
    I let out a huge breath. “Great. Thanks.” I’m about to walk away, but then Josh stops me.
    “Who’s the guy?”
    “What guy?”
    “The guy you’re dating.”
    That’s when I see him. Peter Kavinsky, walking down the hallway. Like magic. Beautiful, dark-haired Peter. He deserves background music, he looks so good. “Peter. Kavinsky. Peter Kavinsky!” The bell rings, and I sail past Josh. “I’ve gotta go! Talk later, Josh!”
    “Wait!” he calls out.
    I run up to Peter and launch myself into his arms like a shot out of a cannon. I’ve got my arms around his neck and my legs hooked around his waist, and I don’t even know how my body knows how, because I’ve for sure never touched a boy like this in my life. It’s like we’re in a movie and the music is swelling and waves are crashing around us. Except for the fact that Peter’s expression is registering pure shock and disbelief and maybe a drop of amusement, because Peter likes to be amused. Raising his eyebrows, he says, “Lara Jean? What the—?”
    I don’t answer. I just kiss him.
    My first thought is: I have muscle memory of his lips.
    My second thought is: I hope Josh is watching. He has to be watching or it’s all for nothing.
    My heart is beating so fast I forget to be afraid of doing it wrong. Because for about three seconds, he’s kissing meback. Peter Kavinsky, the boy of every girl’s dreams, is kissing me back.
    I haven’t kissed that many boys before. Peter Kavinsky, John Ambrose McClaren, Allie Feldman’s cousin