Sophie Labelle - Wish Upon a Satellite

Stephanie Bondus lips are everything you would think they are: they make you feel at home and they taste like honeydew lip balm. I had no clue I needed these lips in my life so much, until now.

Its because, you see, Stephanie Bondu has been my best friend since fifth grade. Weve had countless sleepovers before tonight. She was there for me during my first heartbreak, and I was there for her that time she scored less than 90% on an exam. So, you know, I should have known about these lips. They were right under my nose. Well, under her nose, technically.

Its probably too much info, but we spent about ten minutes exchanging saliva and snot during the most intense smooching session of my life. Thats longer than my ex-boyfriend and I ever did. Everything I experienced before feels kind of fake now.

And it happened just like that. No warning signs, no anticipation. Well, okay, we were hugging, but thats what you would expect from BFFs when one of them just dumped her terrible boyfriend for the fifteenth time. She sent me a text message shortly after dinner saying that, this time, it really was over with Frank. She seemed really pissed. So, I gulped the bolo de rolo cake my dad made for my little brother (its his favorite, my dads way of apologizing for leaving him at home tomorrow while we go on our last cycling trip before winter) and went to meet Stephie at her moms.

It started with a long rant about Frank, whom shes been dating since time immemorial. Turns out this bad excuse for a boyfriend asked Stephie for nudes because his best friend Viktor got some from his girlfriend. Now, I dont really know that girlfriend. I mean, I know her face and I can remember her name (its Raquel) because we went to the same elementary school, but thats pretty much it. Shes been quite rude to Stephie and me in the past. If she wants to do something as questionable and potentially illegal as sending nude pictures of her underage self to the smelly, thoroughly average soccer player that is Viktor, I guess thats her choice. But I draw the line at these boys thinking they can ask for them.

As Stephie was telling me everything, I was angry. First, at Stephies pain: it was so unfair to her! Frank should have known that she has body image issues. Feeling validated in her body shouldnt come at a price. It hits her where she is most vulnerable. And if she wasnt so opinionated, she might have fallen for itletting Frank play with her self-esteem in such a toxic way.

Secondhow the heck did Frank know about Raquels nudes? Did Viktor share them around? Apparently, when Stephie confronted Frank about it, he simply said that its what boys talk about in locker rooms. Stephie didnt buy it. If she had sent him any pictures, Frank could have used them to brag to his soccer teammates and showed them around, which is probably what happened with Raquels.

She broke down while she was telling me the story, her anger giving way to despair. She had to stop talking because her sobbing hiccups made it too hard. As we were both hugging on her new bed (she outgrew her princessy, four-poster one), I instinctively pulled her closer and patted her hair. And I guess it worked? She calmed herself and we ended up cuddling, like many times before, although it never culminated in something as intimate as the hot mess were in right now.

The tears stopped. We spent an eternity resting our heads on her pillows, staring into each others eyes. Strands of hair dried onto her cheeks. Every boiling emotion turned into body heat that felt familiar. I had no clue what just happened. All I know is that it was real. I must look like a deer in the headlights. Whats the expression in her tired, bloodshot eyes? Maybe its just drowsiness. I cant really tell.

Were holding hands. I wish we could kiss again, I could use some of that honeydew lip balm. But her eyes are now closed, and I wouldnt dare. So, I just press my forehead against hers to feel her breath near my mouth. Soon, shes asleep. Too many things are going through my mind for me to go to sleep.

This is the first time Ive kissed a girl, and it was great. Does that mean Im bisexual? I know Stephie is, but I never really thought about it myself. Not that I care, particularly. I dont feel like either a boy or a girl. It makes every potential relationship kind of gay.

Will it change our friendship? Can we still go see bad movies together and ship every character in the most bizarre ways possible? Above her ponytail, which is draped lazily around her neck, her Lafontaine poster is on her wall, that musical were both huge fans of. Were supposed to go see it in November. My dad bought us tickets last year for my birthday, and weve been waiting impatiently ever since. Does that mean well go as a date? That well both need to dress fancy to impress each other during a romantic pre-show dinner, instead of nerding out with all our Lafontaine gear while stuffing ourselves with piles of greasy poutine?

I gently reach in the pocket of my dress to grab my phone with my free hand. I have a notification from Liam, the person I trust the most after Stephie and my dog Borki. Were weirdly close, considering I only met him last year. Hes a shy and awkward nerd, although you probably wouldnt expect such a manga fanatic to also be an international-level athlete. His wall is decorated with medals and trophies hes won during swimming competitionsalong with tons of Japanese-style art he makes. Hes a guy of many talents.

I told Liam I was spending the evening with Stephie because shit hit the fan with Frank.

Hey Ciel! Everything alright?

Even though its not my legal name, my close friends call me Ciel. It means sky in French. It feels more colorful, changing, and evocative than Alex, the name Im called at school.

Yeah. She cried a lot. Shes asleep now.

That bad, eh?

You have no idea. Frank has been such a jerk.

What happened?

I type several attempts at explaining the whole story, but nothing feels right. I just say,

Ill tell you at school, its complicated.

Oh. Okay.

Hows the competition?

Liams spending the weekend on the other side of the border, near New York City, to splash around with the other North Americans. At this point, its not even special for him anymore.