Chapter 6
He Kissed My Hand and My Soul Left My Body.
It started with lunch.
Of course.
He was acting weird.
Not annoying-weird. Not smug-weird.
Weird-weird.
Keifer was quieter. More focused. Like he was waiting for something. Planning something. Yuri was suspiciously quiet too — which was already a red flag because that boy never shuts up.
Even Fatima noticed. "He's glitching," she whispered. "Like a robot who discovered emotions."
I told her to stop.
But I was watching too.
It was the last class of the day that did it.
I was halfway through writing down some notes when Keifer leaned across the aisle and whispered:
"Give me your hand."
I blinked. "What."
"I have something to give you."
"No thanks. I already have trauma."
"Jay. Just close your eyes."
"We are in the middle of class."
"Please."
"There it is. The dreaded please again."
Yuri, sitting beside him, was already wheezing silently.
I glared. "If this is a prank—"
"It's not."
"Is it going to explode?"
"No."
"Is it going to traumatize me?"
"Hopefully in a good way."
I ignored him. Tried to focus on the board. But my heart was drumming in my ears like it was playing a one-person marching band.
After class, we packed our bags. Our section was the only one left in the hallway.
Everyone was moving in slow motion.
Keifer stopped in front of me. Just standing there, blocking my way.
"One last time," he said, voice weirdly soft. "Please?"
I sighed like I was annoyed, but my hands were already shaking.
"Fine," I muttered. "But if this is a dare I will end you."
I closed my eyes.
Felt the weight of my schoolbag on my back.
Felt my friends around me hold their breath.
Felt his hand take mine.
My right hand.
And then…
A kiss.
Right where the mole sits — just above my ring finger.
Like he'd seen it before.
Like he knew.
I screamed.
Literally.
"WHAT THE—?!"
Gasps. Shrieks. Laughter.
I yanked my hand back, grabbed my shoe, and tried to hit him.
"WATSON YOU'RE DEAD—!"
But he ran.
Fast.
Like a coward.
Yuri was left behind, laughing so hard he leaned against a wall for support.
Fatima?
"Oh my god," she whispered. "I am never recovering."
"YOU'RE never recovering? I ALMOST DIED."
That night was impossible.
I sat through dinner pretending nothing happened, while my brain ran laps around my skull.
"Did anything happen in school?" my mom asked suspiciously.
"Nope!" I said, drinking water like it was lava.
She narrowed her eyes. "You're acting strange."
"I'm always strange."
My dad just raised his brows and mumbled something about teenagers.
I excused myself to my room so fast, I forgot my plate.
Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the question kept circling like a mosquito.
What is happening?
Why did he do that?
Why did I feel like that?
Why can't I stop replaying it?
It was just a kiss. On my hand. Not even lips. Not even real.
But it felt…
It felt real.
And now?
Now I was scared.
Because I didn't know what my heart was doing anymore.
And I didn't know how much longer I could pretend I didn't care.
End of Chapter 6.
(Right before the chaos of Chapter 7 begins...)
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