26 Kisses (31 page)

“I honestly didn’t think you’d care.”

I look up at him. “How could we not care? Our baby sister and our . . . our dad are moving halfway across the country.”

The look that crosses Dad’s face is half joy, half pain. “Well, I’m going to miss you guys,” he says. “You know, I didn’t ever want to leave you. Everything that happened wasn’t because you weren’t good enough.” He holds his arms out wide. “God knows, Lila and I aren’t perfect either. We’re just a better fit than your mom and I ever were.”

I nod and look down at the floor, not sure where to go from here.

“I could have tried harder,” Dad says finally. “To try to work things out with your mom. And to not be so hard on you.” His voice is gruff. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Dad.”

I think the last time I hugged my dad was at his and Lila’s wedding, but when he puts his arms around me, it’s like I’m a little kid again—like no time has passed at all.

Jeffrey chatters nonstop on the way home about how he and Chaundre might take Kaylee to the beach one last time before summer is over, if Chaundre can get permission from her parents, and speculates about whether he’ll be able to go to San Francisco for Christmas break this year. I don’t tell him about my conversation with Dad—that’s one they should have together too. Jeffrey needs a dad and even if ours isn’t perfect, he’s all we’ve got.

As we’re driving down the road back to town, we pass a tall guy running along the side of the road, his strides long and even. I honk the horn as we roll past, and raise my hand to wave. Ryan squints and smiles when he sees it’s me. Without thinking, I press my palm to my mouth and blow him a kiss. He blows one back.

I can check
R
off the list,
I realize with a jolt. I don’t even know how many letters I have left, but the end of the summer is right around the corner.

At home I park the car in the driveway and open the garage door for Jeffrey to go inside. “I’m going over to Seth’s for a minute,” I say. After talking things out with my dad, I feel like anything is possible. I need to talk to Seth about Mel, tell him what’s really going on. Seth and Mel are my best friends. If I don’t do everything I can to make them happy, what kind of person does that make me?

Seth opens the door just a few seconds after I ring the bell, as if he were expecting someone.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.” He looks surprised to see me but steps outside and pulls the door shut behind him. “Recovered from the other night?”

“Yeah,” I say, pushing a strand of hair out my face. “But I think I’m done drinking for a while. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

Seth nods and sinks on the doorstep, folding his black denim-clad legs underneath him. I sit down on his right side, my usual spot.

It has been a long time since Seth and I hung out on his doorstep. We used to sit here for hours, not doing anything in particular. We’d watch the occasional car go past, peel the bark off sticks that were lying nearby, scratch little drawings into the concrete with the chalky white rocks that line his mom’s flower beds. I can’t remember when we stopped doing this. What did we talk about the last time we sat on this step together, and what happened afterward that turned it into the last time?

I take a deep breath, willing my hands not to start shaking. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Maybe because once Seth knows what I’m about to tell him, everything is going to change. “When we were at the beach that day . . . I should have told you Mel likes you.”

“What?” Seth looks at me, his green eyes expressionless.

I clasp my hands together. “She doesn’t just think of you as a friend anymore, Seth. She hasn’t for a while.”

He shakes his head slowly. “How do you know? Did she tell you?”

“Not exactly.” I shrug. “You’re both my best friends. I see the way you look at each other, and also the way you’re somehow both completely oblivious to what the other one is thinking. She didn’t have to tell me. Just like you didn’t have to tell me how you felt about her.”

Seth closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face. “Vee . . . I don’t know how I feel about her.”

“What?” I study him, every detail of his face completely familiar and totally new to me at the same time. “Why don’t you know?”

“I thought I did,” Seth says. “I thought maybe this year when we went back to school I might finally get up the courage to tell her.” He looks embarrassed. “And then when Mel told me about your Twenty-Six Kisses thing, everything from back then between you and me just came rushing back. I thought I was over you. You’d been with Mark for so long, and it didn’t even bother me anymore. But thinking of you with someone new did.” He swallows hard. “It still does.”

“Seth . . .”

Frustrated, he slaps his hands against the concrete, wincing at the pain. “Everything in my life seems to come back to you, Vee. Just tell me—why would you go out and decide to kiss every guy in Butterfield, but not me? How did you think that would make me feel?”

I twist my fingers together and stare out at the street. I’m trembling. “I thought you wanted to be with Mel,” I say. “Seth, I didn’t think you had feelings for me anymore.” I lock my gaze on him, willing him to believe me.

He drops his head into his hands, his fingers tangling in his long hair. “So, how many guys has it been now?”

My mouth goes dry. This was not how this conversation was supposed to go. I was supposed to tell Seth about Mel, he would be happy, and I would wish him all the best and get back to the drama of my own life. “I don’t know,” I say. I remember all the times Seth reached for my hand and I pulled away, how we never really talked about where things stood between us. I never even tried to give him any kind of explanation about why I didn’t like him the same way he liked me.

Seth shakes his head and rubs his temples. “So, what now?”

The whole history of our friendship hangs between us, and I realize—
really
realize for the first time—how shitty it was for me to just ignore the fact that Seth liked me and I didn’t like him the same way. How I’ve probably let him agonize over me for much longer than he would have if we had just talked about it and gotten everything out in the open.

“Seth.”

“What?”

“I’m still missing
S
.”

His body goes completely still, and his eyes find mine. He grabs my wrist and stares at my face for a long moment, then pulls me to him and cradles my face in his hands. It has been so long since I looked at Seth—really looked at him, the way I used to when my parents were divorcing and he was the only person in the world who I felt understood anything about me. It’s amazing how, no matter how old you get, your eyes don’t change. The Seth who was in love with me but didn’t know what to do about it is staring at me, five years after I pushed him away.

This is a kiss that has been waiting to happen for a very, very long time. And it feels absolutely, completely wrong. I freeze, my mind racing, not sure how to react without hurting Seth’s feelings (again) and ruining things between us (again). But I’m yanked back to reality by the sound of a car motor in the street—a very distinctive motor. The Buick.

Mel pulls into Seth’s driveway, her face a deceptive mask of calm as she climbs out of the car. She walks over to us, shaking her head, and my heart drops. There’s no way to explain this away, no way to convince Mel it was anything less than a betrayal.

“You didn’t have to kiss him on the lips,” she says to me, her eyes dark. “The cheek, the hand. The elbow, for God’s sake. You know any of those would have gotten you your
S
. Or,” she goes on, “you could have just found someone else, someone named Sean or Sam, someone who your best friend doesn’t—” She stops short as her voice breaks.

Seth stands up. “Mel.”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head, refusing to even look at him.

“Seriously, Mel—” I start.

“Don’t.” She holds up her hand to stop me. “Just don’t. You had Mark. You
have
Killian, even though you don’t seem to want him. Why do you need Seth, too?” Her voice breaks.

“It didn’t mean anything,” Seth says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I swear to God, Mel.”

“He’s right,” I say. “It really, really didn’t. I swear.”

“I don’t care,” she says, turning and walking back to the car. “It still makes you a shitty friend, Vee.” She spins back around and glares at Seth. “And you . . .” She swallows hard, and devastation flashes across her face. She opens her mouth again to speak, but then she just shakes her head, gets in her car, and drives away.

Ryan Kelly

He blew a kiss from the road

8/l0 (for cuteness)

Seth

On his front step

-l million/l0 (for being a huge mistake)

I tell Mel’s dad I’m not going to be able to work the last two weeks of summer, and thank him for giving me the job. He’s so nice about it, I feel extra-terrible and wonder if Mel told her parents what a terrible friend I am, or if she and Killian will talk about me when they’re at the Float & Boat together, and agree they’re glad I’m gone.

After Mel left, Seth and I didn’t have much to say to each other.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally, staring down at my feet.

“It’s not your fault.” His voice was soft, almost too soft to hear. “I screwed up.” Then he went inside and closed the door firmly behind him, shutting me out.

I haven’t heard from him since.

I spend the next two weeks going back-to-school shopping and filling out college applications by myself. Mom is extra-busy at work, with everyone flocking to the dentist for their back-to-school teeth cleanings, and Jeffrey has practically moved into Dad and Lila’s house so he can hang out with Chaundre every day, so I’m home alone most of the time. Plus, I keep getting the occasional creepy Facebook message from random guys at school I’ve never talked to before. Each time I log in and see the message notification, my heart jumps, hoping it’s Killian, although I’m not sure what I would expect him to say. But there’s radio silence from him as well.

Even though I’m just going through the motions in the other parts of my life, I still meet Ryan near the trail every morning. We run hard, working through the last part of our training schedule, and sometimes I think the only thing keeping me sane is knowing he’ll be waiting there for me each day at seven thirty.

“Are you ready?” Ryan asks after our last training run before the half marathon, two days away.

“I guess.” I wipe my sweaty face. Honestly, I haven’t even really been thinking about the race. Running quiets my mind. If I go for long enough, it kind of makes me numb. Right now that’s enough of a reward.

“You’re going to do great,” Ryan says, clapping me on the shoulder. “Stay hydrated. Carbo-load the night before. I’ll see you on Wednesday morning.”

“Okay.” I watch him jog away, envious as always of his easy grace.

Not only will this be the first race I’ve run without Mark at my side, it will be the first one where Mel and Seth won’t be standing on the sidelines, cheering me on as I go by. I sink to the ground by the edge of the trail and wipe my face again, not sure if the moisture I’m blotting away is sweat or tears.