6. Dinner Invitation

Daniel

People are afraid of me.

I suppose it should hurt my feelings, but it doesn't. It used to, but not anymore.

You can't make someone like you if they have already made up their minds about you. And that's the story of my life.

It all started because of my accident when I was 12 years old. But that's a story for another day.

Right now, I have to focus on this asshole in front of me who had just planted one on my lips.

I always rolled my eyes when people talked about "virgin kisses" in the past. There is nothing virgin about them. We have all been kissed by a mother or a relative, but I still hoped my first romantic kiss would be memorable and sweet.

It was not.

It was given to me by Logan—the last face I wish to remember. The worst part is that he doesn't look particularly sorry. No, he seems shocked, as if his body moved on its own.

"I'm..." Logan swallows, then parts his lips, staring at me while I glare back at him. "I'm—"

"WHO WANTS TACOS!?"

I jump a mile and then turn around.