American Girl On Saturn by Nikki Godwin Page B

others. That plastic Twister game stares up at me from the grass, completely daunting.
    I still attempt to object. “Why can’t Noah play against him? Or Jules? They haven’t played a round yet either.”
    Milo steps forward and folds his arms across his chest. His shirt hugs his skin, and he melts me faster than the summer sun melts a popsicle.
    “You’re just scared I’ll beat you,” Milo taunts me.
    Oh screw it. I can’t chicken out after a comment like that.
    “Fine then,” I say. “Let’s play.”
     
    I map out a game plan in my head while Benji and Emery position themselves with the board. Emery demands the first spin. I kick off my flip flops and step up to the plastic.
    Four colors. Six circles per color. Twenty-four circles. I’ll take the twelve closest to me. I think I’m flexible enough to beat Milo.
    “Okay, here’s the rules,” Benji says. “We have to play Emery’s way. So she’s gonna spin for Chloe, and I’ll spin for Milo.”
    Emery flicks the spinning arrow.
    “Left foot on yellow!” she yells out.
    I keep to my half of the plastic. But it’s the closest yellow circle to Milo’s half.
    “Right foot on blue!” Benji shouts out.
    Milo smirks and mirrors my position, standing directly in front of me. I’m eye-level with his chest, and the sunshine bakes us.
    Emery calls right foot on blue, and Benji reverses it with left foot on yellow.
    For a second, I almost think they’re doing this on purpose, but no one else – aside from Noah – has any clue about my Oreo night with Milo. We’re now face-to-chest. I stare at his shirt, wondering if his heart thumps like a bass drum when he’s this close to me. Oh what I’d give to be the girl who makes his heart pound like vibrations through a stage floor.
    I wait for Emery to shout out my next order, but I’m met with silence. I glance around Milo. Emery runs away from Benji and chases after a butterfly.
    “Since she’s out of pocket, this one is for both of you,” Benji calls out. “Right hand on red!”
    I take two seconds too long to strategize my next move. Milo leans forward, reaches over me, and places his right hand on red – on my half of the plastic – and forces me to bend backward. His position is awkward, but mine is worse.
    “Oh, sorry,” he says. “Did you want that spot?”
    No one else can see the sneaky smile wrapped across his face, and I’m so, so thankful. It’s a dead giveaway that there’s at least a flirtationship going on here. He probably hears my heart. Maybe he’ll write a song to its beat, and it’ll be Spaceships Around Saturn’s next big single.
    I reach back diagonally and place my hand on the red circle above Milo’s. He has the advantage, and he knows it. I hope Mom and Godfrey remain indoors until this round of Twister is over. This position isn’t quite so PG13. Oh God, I’d completely collapse on the plastic and die if Mom walked outside and saw me practically pinned underneath Milo. It’s not my fault, Mom. It was right hand on red!
    Emery shouts out that the next spin is hers, but Benji’s announcement makes this porno-position even worse.
    “Emery broke the spinner! Hold what you’ve got!” he yells.
    My ‘right hand on red’ does its best to hold up my bodyweight, which would be much easier if I weren’t distracted by the beautiful boy with caramel eyes. He’s too close for comfort – so close that I can hear the swishes of his T-shirt each time he moves.
    Somewhere off in the universe, outside of Milo Grayson, Aralie yells at Emery for flicking the arrow into the grass. Benji tells us to ‘hold on’ again, and Tate says finding the spinner is going to be impossible.
    Noah laughs. He’s the only one laughing. I guess the joke’s on me.
    Milo clears his throat.
    “Would you like some entertainment? I can sing for you,” he offers. He glances over at Noah. “Hey Winters, pick a song!”
    Noah’s eyes shrink as he goes through his mental playlist. His face lights