"So." Zoë rocks on her heels, her hands shoved into the back pockets of her jeans, and shoots Kim a grin. "Let's climb it."
Kim should've known this bitch would be crazy, but Zoë's from New Zealand, and out of all the places that Kim and her family had been, they'd never been there. Kim wants them to be friends — for a lot of reasons — which is why she considers it her duty to tell Zoë, "Oh, hell no." Kim shakes her head, but Zoë keeps grinning like it's the best idea in the world.
"Come on, Kim. No one's going to catch us if that's what you're worried about."
"Of course they're going to catch us. We'll be in a fucking tree."
But Zoë laughs like it's still a great fucking idea and tugs on Kim's arm. "It'll be fun."
Kim wants to say, No, it'll be fucking crazy, but somehow, she's climbing after Zoë's dumb ass up the biggest tree on the block, and she knows that if she gets caught, she's gonna get her butt whooped at sixteen, and that's just too damn old for a butt whoopin', not that her momma would care one bit. So even though she hasn't done this since she was ten, she prays to God and all the angels that she and Zoë don't get caught.
Apparently, Zoë is a fucking cat when it comes to this shit.
"Do you want to race?" Zoë asks when they're halfway up, and Kim wants to choke Zoë, straight up choke her, but she settles with smacking Zoë's ass and telling her to, "Move it."
Zoë laughs and wiggles her butt but at least she keeps it moving before Kim loses her grip and falls out of this motherfucker. Kim has to admit, though, that this is fun. This is the most fun she's had since her and her family moved into this neighborhood eight months ago. By the time Zoë picks a branch large enough for the both of them to sit on comfortably, Kim is out of breath but grinning, her heart racing from the excitement. She's also happy, because damn, climbing a tree? Ain't as easy as it used to be.
"Isn't this fun?" Zoë asks, and Kim can admit that yes, it is.
She's about to say so, too, but when she turns her head, Zoë's inching closer and sliding her hand up Kim's thigh. Kim knows what that look is, or at least she's pretty damn sure, and then it happens. Zoë fucking Bell, the foreign exchange student from New Zealand, kisses her. On the lips. And Kim's not sure how to feel about that. She won't even let a boy kiss her without asking first. There are rules.
"So what do you want to do next?" Zoë asks, squeezing Kim's thigh, and Kim thinks, Oh, hell no.
She slaps Zoë's hand away and points her finger in Zoë's face like her momma points. "Not that."
Zoë blinks like she don't know. "Not what?"
"Oh, you know."
Zoë laughs, and maybe she doesn't know, but she's already moving away, swinging her legs so hard that Kim's sure she's gonna flip over backwards and straight out this motherfucker.
"We can still kiss, though," Kim says, scooting closer to Zoë. "But you better start asking first, bitch."
"So does that mean we're friends now?"
Kim smirks, sliding Zoë a look, and nods. "Yeah, we're friends."