26 Kisses (3 page)

Killian laughs. “No way. Is the debate team as nerdtastic at Butterfield as it is at Trawley?”

I smirk at him. “That depends. Has your team ever thrown you a Constitution-themed birthday party?”

“Is this a cross-examination?”

“Are we only speaking in questions?” I smile, and Killian kicks some water at me. “Seriously, it’s a total nerd alert over at Butterfield. We’re always collecting obscure facts we can use in our cases. You would not believe the stuff that comes in handy—like, we were once debating whether Santa Claus is real, and I won the argument because of something I remembered from science class about the Arctic’s polarity.”

Killian looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “You proved Santa Claus exists? You are officially my hero.”

I duck my head. “It was probably my best argument to date. Too bad it took place in the library during practice after school instead of during a competition.”

“So, do you want to be an actor or a lawyer?” he asks. “Seems like everyone who’s into this kind of stuff is either one or the other.”

“Lawyer.” I swish my feet through the water. Looking up information and arguing about it for a living . . . What could be better?

“Then I’ll be sure to address you with proper respect, counselor.” He dips his head toward me in a mock bow.

“Stop it. What about you?”

“Both,” Killian says, deadpan. “I want to be an actor who plays a lawyer on
Law & Order
.”

Before I can respond, a shrill whistle rises up from behind us, and I turn to see Bob, Melinda’s dad, waving at us, his face almost as red as his hair. A lifeguard whistle dangles from a string around his neck. “You guys are done!” he shouts. “Slowing down up here.”

“Thank God,” I groan, wiggling my toes inside Mel’s sneakers. My feet feel bloated and cold, and I try not to think about all the things that could potentially be in the river water that’s soaked into my skin over the past few hours.

Killian clasps my hand and hauls me to my feet with one swift tug. We struggle up the riverbank, our tennis shoes making disgusting squishing noises as we walk. Mel stands over by the life jacket shed, outfitting a few late-coming floaters. I can’t help but feel a little resentful—she’s completely dry, all popped-collar polo shirt and untied Converse, while I look like I just crawled out of a mud pit.

“Wow, I’m really glad I learned how to use the stupid credit card machine,” Mel says as she comes over to us, dusting her hands off on her spotless shorts. “You’re definitely going to need to shower before tonight, Vee.”

“What’s happening tonight?” I wring some water out of my T-shirt.

Mel holds up her phone. “Brianna and Landon want to hang out. And Seth’s free. We should all do something.” She flashes a smile at Killian. “Want to?”

“Sure,” he says, pulling his T-shirt back over his head and interrupting Mel’s not-so-covert inspection of his abs.

Mel grabs our arms and pulls us closer. “Awesome. I have the best idea.” She peers over my shoulder and whispers, “Let’s come back here tonight, when it gets dark. We can watch the fireworks from the dock.”

“Mel! What are you trying to do, get us arrested?”

“Chill out, Vee. It’s my dad’s place; it’s not like we’d be trespassing.”

It’s all I can do to suppress my inner attorney. “Uh, actually, it totally would be trespassing if—”

Mel grabs my hand and squeezes hard, silencing me. “Are you in, Killian?”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I don’t know. . . .”

“Oh, come on.” She sighs impatiently. “What’s with you two? Relax. It’ll be fun.” She crosses her arms and waits.

Killian looks at me, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. I hesitate for a second and then nod.

“Okay,” he says finally, taking his baseball cap off and running a hand through his hair. “I’m in.”

“This is a bad idea,” I say. Mel and I are back in the Buick, lurking in the corner of the Float & Boat parking lot, waiting for everyone else to arrive, and I can barely breathe through the cloud of perfume wafting off her body. The sun is just about to go down, and clouds are racing in from the west to cover the stars. Soon the sky will be pitch-black—perfect for watching fireworks.

“Shhh,” she says. “It’ll be fine. You’ll have fun—maybe even meet someone.”

“What? Who am I going to meet?”

She turns to me, her brown eyes huge in the dark. “You need a guy this summer, Vee. So I invited a few.”

I stare at her in disbelief.

Mel shrugs and looks away. “What? I took initiative. And it’s not like a setup; it’s just hanging out with some guys, and if you hit it off, great. If you don’t, you can continue to mourn Mark.”

I slam back against the passenger seat, shocked at the magnitude by which Mel has misjudged where I’m at mentally in the whole breakup process. “You invited Seth, Killian, and Landon. Landon is dating Brianna, you’ve already staked your claim on Killian, and Seth is . . . Seth. Who am I supposedly going to hook up with?”

“First of all, I have not
staked my claim
on Killian. I’m perfectly happy for you to jump his ripped bod this summer. But I also invited Vince and Adam. They’re both single. And hot.”

Vince and Adam. I flip through the pages of the yearbook in my mind, trying to put faces with those names. The only people I really hung out with over the past couple of years were Mark’s cross-country friends and my teammates during the debate season—and Mel and Seth, of course, when I could find the time. But Mel seems to know everyone at Butterfield High—especially the guys, despite the fact that she has never been in a real relationship.

I rub my temples. “Mel, I am so, so not ready to think about moving on. I’m barely functioning as it is. I still cry every morning when I wake up. I don’t have a job. I do
not
need a guy this summer.”

She sighs. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way. I know you think you’re totally devastated about Mark—”

I snort.

“But let’s face it, Vee: you don’t even know what it would be like to date someone else.”

I’m tempted to get out of the car and hitch a ride home rather than walk into what is apparently just a weird three-way blind date. “Yeah, yeah,” I say. “I’ve only slept with one guy—”

“You’ve only
kissed
one guy.”

I glare at her. Hearing it out loud makes it sound more pathetic than it actually is, and it’s not like she has that much more experience than I do. I’ve only kissed one guy because once Mark came along, I didn’t need anyone else, not because I’m a prude or challenged in the art of seduction. And anyway, Seth would have kissed me if I had let him—but that was all a million years ago, and Mel certainly doesn’t need to know about it. Especially now.

Mel grabs my hand as headlights wash over us. “Someone’s here.”

We watch as a dark pickup truck pulls into the gravel lot, followed quickly by an old white Jeep. We climb out and gather with Killian, Brianna, and Landon.

Mel gives Brianna and Landon huge hugs, carrying on as if she hasn’t seen them in years rather than just the couple of weeks since school got out. I wave awkwardly and try to think of something to say so they won’t ask me about Mark.

Killian nudges me. “What are the chances of us getting caught?” he whispers.

“Slim to none. No one comes down this road at night, and I told Mel we were absolutely not having a bonfire, so I don’t think anyone will see us.”

“Good. I really don’t want to get fired in my first week.”

I glance up at him. Mel sure seems to have gotten her claws into him quickly. “So why did you come?”

“I’m dying to hear you prove that Santa Claus exists. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” He knocks my shoulder lightly with his fist. Alarm bells go off in my head. Is Killian
flirting
with me?

I’m saved from having to respond by Brianna shoving a can of bug spray into my hands. I spray myself down—always necessary in the Michigan woods at night—as more cars pull into the parking lot. Vince and Adam arrive only a few seconds apart, as if they coordinated when they would leave, and are wearing comically similar outfits—baggy khaki shorts and tight T-shirts, baseball caps perched on top of carefully gelled hair. Mel introduces us, beaming over me like a proud mother.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, regretting the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. We’ve been going to school together for three years—we must have met at some point, and I just didn’t bother to remember.

Seth is the last to arrive, dressed in his customary outfit of black clothes and outrageous, eye-catching shoes. Tonight he’s wearing his go-to, everyday red high-top Converse. He steps out of his mom’s minivan and jogs over to us, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. I’m surprised he actually showed up; he doesn’t go to a lot of parties. Not because people don’t want him there—everyone is fascinated by Seth—but because he finds them boring and predictable, and would rather be home practicing the piano like the antisocial musical genius he is. At least, that’s the explanation he gives.

“Hey, Vee.” He touches my elbow softly and turns to Mel. “Let’s get this over with.”

Mel leads us through the woods, past the life jacket shed, and down to the dock. It’s not too hot out, but the nighttime humidity is starting to set in, making my whole body feel sticky. I trip over a tree root, and Adam catches my arm, leaning in close to help me up.

“Careful,” he says, his teeth flashing white in the dark, his hand hot on my elbow.

“Thanks.” I pull away as soon as I find my footing.

Landon and Vince are carrying a big cooler between them, and they start handing out beers as we settle onto the dock. I take one, steeling myself for an hour of pretending to enjoy the foul liquid, and immediately wish I hadn’t when Seth coolly turns his down.

Brianna and Landon wander off to the end of the dock, hand in hand. Mel leans over to Killian. “Isn’t it gorgeous out here?” The last rays of sun are just visible on the horizon, pink and orange among the clouds. It’s a typical Lake Michigan sunset, the kind I watched a million times while snuggling with Mark. I take a giant swig of my beer.

“Absolutely.” Killian hands Mel a can. “When do the fireworks start?”

Mel checks her phone. “Ten minutes.”

Seth slaps at a mosquito on his arm and scowls. “We’re going to get eaten alive. I don’t think the bug spray is working.”

Mel lays a hand on his arm. “Poor baby. A little mosquito bite isn’t going to kill you.”

Seth pulls away and crosses his arms.

“Okay.” Mel sighs. “Seth, if you didn’t want to have fun tonight, you should have just stayed home.” She cracks her knuckles and turns to Killian. “Want to go sit down there? We’ll be able to see better.” She motions to the end of the dock, where Brianna and Landon are already making out.

“Uh . . .” Killian glances over at me, and I pull my phone out of my pocket, pretending to read a text. “Sure,” he says, following her.

Seth stares after them and lets out his breath in a huff, sinking down onto the dock and staring out at the water. Adam motions for me to sit next to him, and I give him a tight smile before settling myself gingerly onto the smooth boards. Vince flops down nearby, cracking open his can with a flourish.

“Cheers,” Adam says, tapping his beer against mine. “Happy Dune Days.”

“Same to you,” I say, trying to ignore the aftertaste on my tongue.

My eyes lock on Adam’s, and he raises one eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. I look away, my breath coming faster than normal, every cell in my body aware that I’m sitting very close to a guy who isn’t Mark. Where should I put my hands? Should I scoot closer? Am I supposed to be talking to Vince, too? Maybe he and Adam are going to battle it out to prove their dominance, like bucks do during mating season. I silently curse Mel for inviting so many people tonight. If I make a fool of myself, there will be plenty of witnesses.

The first fireworks explode over the tops of the trees, giving me an excuse not to talk to anyone. I sip my drink nervously and monitor Adam’s every movement out of the corner of my eye, making my way through two cans of beer before the show is even half over. Eventually, the alcohol kicks in, and my body relaxes. I toss my beer can aside and lean back on my hands. It’s a gorgeous night, I’m out with friends, and Mark is (hopefully) sitting at home, alone, wishing he hadn’t been so quick to dump me. Or . . . he’s over at the fireworks with his arm around some other girl. I push the thought out of my head and let my hand brush against Adam’s.

After what seems like hours, the grand finale begins, and it is spectacular—huge fireworks erupting one after the other with booms that make my heart pound fast in my chest, the ghostly imprints they leave behind in the sky crossing over each other and blurring into gray smog. The air smells like a combination of fresh pine and acrid smoke.

I turn to say something to Adam just as his arm swings up and drapes across my shoulders. He pulls me closer and whispers in my ear, “Cool, huh?”

I nod, my palms sweating. Everyone else is getting up and stretching, discussing which fireworks were their favorites, but I am frozen in place with the weight of this guy’s arm holding me down. He is shorter, more solid, than Mark. His deodorant smells different, his profile is sharper, he has an earring—but when I close my eyes and let the alcohol fuzz my brain, none of that seems to matter. When Adam turns my face toward his and kisses me, it feels almost natural. And as our kiss deepens and his hands move down to my hips, I realize I’m not nervous anymore. Mark is no longer the only guy I’ve ever been close to. I’m single—I can do what I want, kiss who I want. All summer long.

I’m free.

I may be a little tipsy and totally giddy from making out with Adam, but Mel is completely wrecked. Killian practically has to carry her back to the parking lot as she shrieks and giggles the whole way. The rest of the guys follow behind us.

“Shhh,” I say, stumbling along, my hand in Adam’s. “Mel, shut up. Someone’s going to hear you.”