I glanced at him sitting in the passenger seat of my mom's grey '86 Camry. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted. All I could hear, except for the faint sound of music coming from the radio, was his heavy, steady breathing.

Reaching for his hand, I found he was cold and his palm rough from raking leaves earlier. I rubbed it lightly to warm his fingers.

I wondered whether we would finally kiss tonight. I wanted to feel the "magic" that my friends were constantly telling me about. For the past 14 days I had tried everything imaginable, from tilting my head on his shoulder until it was in just the right position, to talking constantly about how Matt and Colleen were all over each other.

As I pulled into the driveway, I woke him gently, saying in a soft voice, "C'mon, we're here. You gotta get up."

Groggily he awoke, confused about where he was. He sm'fi"'fi"'fi"'fi"'fi"'fi"'fi"'fi"""fi'""fi'""fi'""fi'""fi'""fi'""fi'""fi' e' e' e' e'ssshssshssshssshor feel the pulse racing in my wrist. Looking down at my hand, he said, "Hey, thanks. I had a good time tonight." He unlocked the door.

"Wait," I called, as he went to walk up the driveway.

He paused outside the car and ducked his head back in the door. I leaned as far forward as I could and touched my lips to his. His lips were dry and chapped, he pressed hard against mine. The only thing I was intently aware of was the taste of mint from the gum he was chewing. I could feel his cold hands on my neck.

He pulled away, giving me a look I could not read. I smiled a little and gave a shaky wave of good-bye.

I watched the silhouette of his lean frame walk to the front porch. He looked back once, the yellow outside light bouncing off his clean, shiny hair, giving him a slightly sallow look. Turning back, he pushed open the heavy front door and disappeared inside.

As I pulled away from his house, a thought crept into my mind ...

I felt nothing. 1