Free Bounce by Noelle August

stranger, basically, and I just offered her my truck. Pretty overeager.
    â€œThat’s really nice of you.”
    Kill me. Now.
    â€œJust think about it. So, you think we’ll get to make out again tonight? ’Cause that was fun.”
    Skyler lets out a startled laugh. “Um, no way? And we didn’t make out . We kissed.”
    â€œReally? Then what constitutes making out for you? I mean, what’s the, like, literal line that needs to be crossed?”
    â€œNo line ever needs to be crossed between us, Grey. You’re the producer’s little brother. Are you even of legal age?”
    â€œLow blow, Canby.” I realize I just used her last name without her ever having told me what it was. But I’m not going to explain how I know it. Two nights ago I swiped one of your headshots from the kitchen table and put it on my bedside, where it now lives. It’s not stalking, I promise. Just trying to be good at my new job that I don’t want. “And, yes. I’m above the age of consent so you might as well educate me. Tell me. What’s making out, in your view?”
    â€œOkay. Let me think about this.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Making out is more melty.”
    â€œMelty?” I glance at her, and see her smiling. “You were lava in my hands.”
    â€œWarm. I was definitely warm. Not lava, though.”
    I roll my eyes. She’s downplaying it. Physical chemistry is one thing we have going for us. Or against us. We’ve got it, that’s the point. No doubt about it. Our bodies have the hots for each other. “Okay, melty. What else?”
    â€œIt lasts longer and is private. You don’t have an audience for it. And it’s not acted.”
    â€œI’m with you on the first three. But the last one?” I shake my head. “I’m not an actor. Maybe you are, but I’m not.”
    â€œActually, I’m not sure I am, either.”
    I pull up to a stoplight, which gives me a chance to look at her. Really look at her. She’s tapping her fingers on her leg, and she’s blinking just a little too quickly, like she’s trying to hold back tears. We just executed a huge emotional shift, and I’m not sure why. “Sky . . . ​Skyler. What’s going on?”
    â€œI shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to.”
    â€œWhy did you?”
    â€œThis is all so new. I didn’t expect it, and I guess I’m just a little scared.” She looks at me. “Grey, don’t tell anyone, okay? I really do want this. I need it.”
    The light turns green, and I have to look back to the road. The way she said need makes me think of her broken-down car in the shop. The word had a dark kind of ring to it. It was a kind of need that’s in danger of slipping backward. It’s not fair, but I compare it to the way I always feel, like I need to sing. Like I need my band to land a contract. Those feel like leaping, reaching needs. Positive needs. But I know what the backslide kind of need feels like, too. I’ve been there. I was there eight months ago. Almost killed me, answering that kind of need. So even though it’s not the same, I think I get it.
    â€œI won’t tell anyone, Skyler. And for the record, I think you’re really good.”
    â€œThanks. And thanks for listening.”
    I feel like I barely did. I want to listen to more. I feel like she’s hardly said anything.
    I think about how Mia and the other girl who’s up for Emma Beautiful Emma are Skyler’s best friends. If Sky is having these doubts, it must be tricky finding someone to talk to about them. I picture what it would be like if I told Shane, Reznick, Emilio, or Titus: Not sure about our band, you know? Not feeling a hundred percent solid. I know I could never say that to them. If I did, it could have a lasting, not-good effect.
    â€œHow was surfing?” Skyler’s