Free Me You Us by Aaron Karo

Mr. K. bought, and I swear I almost puke. Still, it’s a good time. And I must admit,Tristen sniffing my wrists and my neck is kind of a turn-on.
    After that, I tag along with Tristen to a few random stores. It’s a fascinating experience. One moment she’s asking a bewildered salesclerk if a piece of jewelry is made with conflict-free minerals, and the next moment she’s using her iPhone to calculate what 10 percent off is. Did I mention she’s wearing really short jean shorts? The front pockets are sticking out below the shorts and onto her thighs. Occasionally I forget my own name.
    Next we walk to the food court for lunch, and I try to steer the conversation toward anything physical. If you’re talking to a girl and the act of hooking up is mentioned, and she wrinkles her nose and says, “Gross,” then you’re probably never gonna hook up with her. But if she’s comfortable talking about those things with you, then maybe, just maybe, one day she might be open to actually doing them with you. In the Galgorithm, this is known as laying groundwork for future physicality. It’s one of my most advanced moves.
    â€œWhat’s that ChapStick you were using?” I ask.
    â€œIt’s cherry,” Tristen replies. “It’s my favorite.”
    â€œBut don’t your lips taste like cherry after that?”
    â€œYes! That’s the whole point. I can just smack my lips and it’s like getting a little snack.”
    She smacks her lips. Oof. I’m sweating a bit.
    â€œWhich one do you use?” she asks.
    â€œThe blue one with the moisturizer.”
    â€œThat’s so boring!”
    â€œHow can my choice of ChapStick possibly be boring?”
    â€œLike, let’s say you kiss someone. Then they’re just getting boring blue ChapStick flavor.”
    Aha! She brought up kissing!
    â€œSo what you’re saying is, when you kiss someone, they get the cherry flavor.”
    â€œExactly!” she says.
    Now I’m gonna very subtly bring this around to me.
    â€œWell, what if I don’t like cherry?” I ask.
    â€œ Everyone likes cherry,” she says with a smirk.
    â€œAre you sure about that?”
    â€œPretty sure.”
    She smiles and touches my elbow.
    For a second I think that this conversation has gone too well. We’ve stopped walking. Tristen is staring at me. I stare back at her. She smacks her lips again. Is this really about to happen?
    â€œWhat do you want to eat?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWhat do you want to eat?” she repeats.
    She motions to all the restaurants in the food court, which we’ve just reached. Which is why we stopped. Which is why she’s just standing there, waiting for me.
    I snap out of it.
    â€œOh,” I manage.
    Shane, you think Tristen wants to kiss you next to a dirty KFC? Use your head. Your other head!
    â€œI’m good to eat whatever you want,” I say, recovering.
    â€œHey,” Tristen says, “isn’t that your friend Jak?”
    I look up and see that Jak is indeed walking our way. I realize I never told her I was coming to the mall with Tristen. It was kinda last minute.
    â€œYeah,” I say to Tristen, “it is.”
    When Jak gets closer, she notices me, then Tristen. Her face flashes briefly from surprise to confusion to Oh, crap . But it would be weird if she didn’t say hello now. And I’m excited to see her anyway.
    â€œHey, buddy,” Jak says as she reaches us. We exchange our typical high five.
    â€œHey,” I say. “Do you know Tristen? Tristen, Jak. Jak, Tristen.”
    â€œWe’ve seen each other in the halls,” Jak says.
    â€œYeah. It’s nice to, like, officially meet you, though,” ­Tristen says. “Shane talks about you a lot.”
    â€œWhat? No I don’t.”
    Jak smiles at my discomfort.
    â€œWell you talk about her a little ,” Tristen says.
    I shrug. That’s