It seems to be an eternity until Pietro finally breaks the kiss. For a second, I close my eyes and I feel my head spinning. Strange as it may seem, this had been my very first kiss. And I have to say I never imagined it could be like that...

"Wow", I hear Pietro whispering.

"If you two are done, then the prof wants to see Speed-Freak on the double."

The words have the same effect as a cold shower. I start up, and so does Pietro. Ray is standing in the doorframe, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his brow. He looks like he'd like to kill two certain people right now.

"Well, yeah. I'll - go then." And with that, Pietro zips out past Ray. An embarassing moment of silence follows, and after that Ray turns and storms out as well.

This can't be happening. This isn't real. It's just a bad dream. Yeah. Just a bad dream...

It takes me a few minutes to realize I'm crying openly. I guess I'm a total mess, so the best thing I could possibly do right now is go to my room and cover in shame - and hope not to meet anybody.

Too late. The moment I stand up from the couch, the door opens and Bobby comes in, whistling silently. He stops when he sees me and glares.

"What's wrong?" he asks. "What happened? Bad news in the letter?"

"No, it's - not that..." I choke. "Never mind, I'll be OK."

"No you won't", he says, then he grips my shoulder firmly. "Sit down and tell me what happened. Or at least calm down."

"No, I'm fine, really. Let go."

"Sit down", he repeats, seriously this time. "You're a mess."

Like I need him to tell me that.

"Trust me, you'll feel much better if you let it al out. You know, talk to someone. I can help, and I can keep a secret, too."

What can I do? If I go to my room, I'll probably cry my eyes out, and that won't do me any good. And so I tell him everything, starting with the encounter at the mall - about which he knows already - and finishing with the scene that happened earlier today. When I'm done, I feel a better. Not much better, but it still counts. "Thanks for listening", I say.

"No problem, that's what friends are for. So the question is - " he looks at me inquiring " - who do you like?"

"I don't know. I really don't know - I meah, back home, I wasn't very much of a popular person, and now all of a sudden I've gotten myself into this mess, I don't even know what to think any more."

"Well, the best thing you can do now is to try not to think about it. Do something else instead. Like - read."

"Yeah, thanks. I think I'll read my letter."

"You do that."

"Thank you, Bobby."