95.

I do.

Suck and blow,

I say, looking over

my shoulder

at Mari whose list

has grown one and a half

pages long.

What?

Mari says,

and then she

laughs her face off.

It’s a kissing game,

I say, my face going

hot.

I gotta keep this party

PG–13,

Mari says.

No sucking.

No blowing.

She laughs again and her hair

catches in an evening breeze and waves

like flowers nodding.

No,

I say,

I said it’s a kissing game.

Mari raises her eyebrows.

One is half shaved-off.

Don’t ask me why.

I don’t know.

It was gone when I got here.

You use playing cards,

I say,

sucking a card

so it stays on your lips

and passing it to someone else

without touching it

with your hands.

And?

she says.

And,

I say,

if you want to kiss

that person you’re passing the card

to, you just let it drop.

My face is still

red but Mari seems

too busy to notice.

Sounds like a good one,

she says.

Better than spin the bottle.

For a moment

I imagine me

and Alex.

Me and Alex.

Just a playing card

separating us.

Would I feel

the warmth of his lips

through that bit of

cardboard?

The thought is too much.

I better go,

I say.

I best be alone with

my thoughts

so Mari doesn’t

see me

all embarrassed and ask

what I’m thinking.

She expects me to be

with Jace Nelson.

And I can’t tell her

that seeing Alex

makes my heart thrum.