Quick Maths: take two enemies multiplied by one insane bet, divided by crazy shenanigans plus one wacky senior year.
What do you get? A mess.
And Kinsley was never really good at Maths to begin with...
✎
In which Kinsley Bennett finds herself in a b...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"They're going to say no," Leila says, nonchalant as ever. "Mark my words."
"No, unmark it," I hiss, pacing up and down for the millionth time in the last half an hour. "I need positive energy right now, not pessimism."
"It's not pessimism," Leila replies. "It's realism. Forget glass half full or half empty - the point is that there's water in the glass."
"And what does glasses of water have to do with this?" I ask, glaring at my friend who's casually seated on the wooden bench outside the principal's office.
"It means that of we use our common sense, we should guess that the people inside are going to say no," she says, flipping through the magazine she's been fiddling with this whole time. Because apparently that's what teens these days want to do when waiting for the principal to call them into her office - the whole damn table is full of them.
Ever since yesterday, when Jimin mentioned the whole kissing booth possibility, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Not even when Hoseok walked past me in the hall and made a joke about my silence about the bet recently did I allow myself to get distracted.
I mean, with the whole setup of the kissing booth, I'd be winning against him anyway, right? And this time round, I'm not going to say anything until it's done - celebration should come after definite success, I know that now.
I went home, spilled the tea to my mom in such a rush that even I can't remember what I said to her. Then I went upstairs, trying to work out the kinks of the whole thing: how it would work, how many people I would need and how the the thing must look. If anything, I looked like quite the event planner in my room last night, my old scrapbook material coming in clutch at a moment I least expected it.
When I was done, I showed it to Momma, who said she loved the design. Which is her way of saying that she doesn't really enjoy the idea of it all that much. That was no train smash, though - she had the same reaction when I insisted on driving Shirley when I got my licence last year, and my baby hasn't burst into flames like she feared it would.
And now, here I am on a Tuesday after school, ready to present my idea for a game booth to the SFC. I even made sure dress smart casual today - if you can call a faded blue jeans and old turquoise blouse from Momma's closet smart casual. I mean, she practically gave it to me when I asked if I could borrow it this morning; apparently, her chest will never be able to fit in it again now that she's breastfeeding Paisley.
My hair is trapped in the tidiest two French braids I could braid it in this morning instead of leaving it hanging over my shoulders like I usually do. I was going to put on some of Momma's lipstick for an extra pizzazz, until Paisley came wobbling in and almost ate the rest of the makeup kit while I was considering which colour to put on.
Unfortunately for me, though, the announcement about the whole booth idea thing was indeed made yesterday just before the final bell rang. And it's popularity is far greater than I thought it would be.
