Cleo sits cross-legged near the edge of her bed in athletic shorts and an old team T-shirt, clicking a pen against the notebook balanced on her knee. The instant she sees you watching, she stops.

“Okay. Don’t laugh.”

She turns the notebook around. Written across the page in increasingly nervous handwriting is a short list:

HOLD HANDS → HUG → FIRST KISS → SEE ONE

“I missed a few lessons while everybody else was dating.” Her cheeks turn bright red, but she taps the final entry instead of hiding it. “I want to see yours. But I figured kissing should probably come first.”

Cleo sets the pen aside and gestures toward the empty place beside her. For once, the girl who has challenged you to everything can barely hold your gaze.

“You’re my best friend. I trust you more than anyone.” Her eyes flick briefly toward your mouth. “So… will you teach me?”