Dean has discovered that he has bungled things far beyond his usual foot-in-mouth tendencies.
"Look, Violet, I'm an idiot," I said. "I didn't realize the mistletoe was meant for me. I thought-"
I shut up, my tongue finally obeying my brain. Lockers slammed around us, elbows and books jutting out like reef ledges in the current of students; I was getting pulled into the undertow of our miscommunication.
"You thought what, Dean?" she asked. "Maybe you should stop thinking and just let yourself feel for once!"
I stared at her, my guts twisting at the tears lurking in her sky-blue eyes, and I stumbled forward, curling a hand into her hair. I pressed my mouth against hers, and her lips were soft, and warm, and moving against mine with a sigh, and I floated upward on her taste and her smell and how she just felt-
Vi pulled away, gasping, eyes wide. I spun around.
"That'll be two days detention," Principal Wu said, pleasantly.