Her Kiss (Griffin) (4 page)

CHAPTER 11

It wasn’t long after I mailed Ally
her notebook to her that I got into some trouble.
Serious
trouble. I’m not going to tell you about it though, not
right now anyway. Maybe never. My trauma counselors tell me not to go around
talking about it. I mean, they want me to talk about it with
them
—constantly. But it’s
not stuff I should divulge to people where it can circulate through the school
and community.
Just not a good idea.
I don’t think I
would “share” anyway, but who knows, sometimes my mouth just spews things out.
Then later I’m like, why’d I say that?

I’m a pretty random guy.

Anyway, by junior year I’d pretty
much forgotten about Ally. Pretty much. Now she was dating this poser guy,
Aiden Hanks. He was even worse than Baker.
Even
more
of a girl.
The guy bugged
me. In a big way. Unfortunately, he was on the hockey team with me that year,
so I actually had to listen to his mouth. Not that I actually
listened
to the punk—ever. Except
one morning, I came out of the locker room and Poser was talking
smack—about me.

The dude was a brave, stupid soul.
I mean, he had to already know I hated his guts and was itching for an excuse
to splatter those guts all over the sidewalk. Now he had handed the excuse to
me on a silver platter. Everyone was glad. I mean
,
the
kid had a mouth. He bugged everyone on the team.
Everyone
. I’m actually a fairly tolerant guy—considering I
kept having to stop practically every member of the team from taking a slug at
the guy at one time or another. (He was new to the team, so I tried—
tried
—to cut him some slack,
reasoning maybe he was such an obnoxious dill-weed because he was trying to
“fit in” or whatever mumbo-jumbo my counselors tried getting me to swallow.)

I backed Poser against the wall,
ready to knock his pretty face in. Glad I suddenly had the opportunity.

But then coach rounded the corner.
“You’re not supposed to fight your own team, Griffin,” Coach said, making me
let go of Poser. He waited until I actually backed away from the
punk—which was hard for me to do.

I mean
it,
it was hard to let it go—the need to slug Poser. I’d had a violent fight
with my dad the night before. Actually had to kick the drunk out of our house
again because he was fighting with my mom—
again
—physically, abusively. I wanted to tear apart Poser.
Get rid of the ache inside me.

Later, I growled to him as I skated
past his stick-like body, “You’re going down after school.”

The terrified look on his face was
enough to ease the knots in my gut. A little. But I still had every intention
of beating the whiney twerp to a pulp. Just the thought of it alone put me in a
better mood.

***

That day, after lunch hour, I
closed my locker,
then
turned to find shy little Ally
Grange standing there. Right there, within inches of me. It was like she was
waiting for me.
Me
.

I blinked, kind of not believing my
eyes.
Or the moment.
I mean, she was
here.
Right next to me.
Of her own freewill.
Looking scared, yeah, but determined. Of what, I had no idea. A dare? That was
all I could think of—but it didn’t fit. The girl wasn’t exactly the
daring type. Nor was she the groupie type that I usually found around my
locker. I mean, though I was completely mystified, I had the scrambling,
semi-conscious awareness she wasn’t here to tell me I played a wild game last
night or invite me to stick my tongue down her throat.

Nothing that went through my mind
fit.

I stared at her a moment—she
stared back. Not moving.

The girl hadn’t said a word to me
since she’d given me that cookie—years ago.

I tilted my head, quirking an
eyebrow. “You looking for me?”

She sucked in her breath and gave a
slight nod. No words.

Cutest thing
ever.

My lips twitched slightly.

I couldn’t help being entrained by
her obvious discomfort. Did she think I was going to slug her?—a cute
little girl?

My grin grew despite my
puzzlement—or because of it. Not sure. The girl just made me grin.
All the time.
Just seeing her—she always managed to do
that, pull my lips into a smile. Every time I saw her.

As my lips did their thing, my
eyebrows lifted. “What’s up?”

She bit her bottom lip. It gave me
a little thrill. Those cherry red lips, man. It got me thinking—in vivid
detail—what she wrote about me in that notebook of hers. That she
wondered what it would be like to feel my lips on hers. I was still willing to
let her find out. More than willing. Her lips were seducing me at the moment. The
way she was sucking on them like that. It made me stare at them and wonder.
Tempting me. They were
so
red, like
cherries. I wanted to press my mouth against them—see what they tasted
like. Like that cinnamon cookie she gave me? …
or
juicy red cherries? Suddenly, I felt pretty certain it would be a combination
of the two. And I was more than curious what that would taste like. Curious
enough that I felt I might just grab her and find out. Though I knew I
wouldn’t, since just standing here with me seemed to be traumatizing to her shy
girly heart. I mean, I got that impression from the way she had her little
hands clasped over her heart like that—as though for dear life, like to
cage it in, because she was afraid it was going to leap out of her chest and make
a run for it. Like just being near me made it do violent things.

All that stuff though—her
quivering and clasping and sighing—it made me tempted to put
my
hand over her heart too. I wanted to
feel it. Feel it beating for me.

So those two things were going
through my head—kissing Ally and feeling her heart. It made me draw
closer to her without even noticing I was doing it.

But then, whoa.
She squeaked and lurched away from me. That’s how I woke up and noticed I’d
gotten closer. It was kind of shocking.

Man.

I pulled away a bit. Then breathed
out a laugh. I mean, she
squeaked
(!)
…
just
because I got close to her. With a grin I
sighed and shook my head. There would be no kissing this girl in my future.
None.

It was frustrating, yet at the same
time it was hilarious. She wanted me—I was pretty sure. Yet she would die
if I came near her.
A perplexing situation.
One I knew
I’d be scratching my head over (though yeah, also grinning about) for days.

Tugging at the hem of her sweater,
she took a deep breath, like she was trying to summon up enough courage to
actually talk to me—
Griff the
Grief-Master
. The scariest guy in the whole school, apparently. Not exactly
a reputation I was fond of. Or wanted.
Especially not now.
Still, it was kind of hilarious that she was so afraid of me—considering
she had my heart all pounding for her. (And the fact I’d sniffed her cookie an
entire day.)

I was more than a little curious
what she wanted though. What gave her—timid Ally—the courage to
actually dare to come over here and talk to me? And even
stay
after I’d gotten super close to her and made her
squeak? Usually she’d be long gone by now.

So, though she seemed all
scared—like she might faint any second—still she was being brave.
Sort of.
I mean, here she was, glued to that spot, not
running away.

Though man, she was shaking.
Really bad.
(I’m really
that
terrifying? Wow.)

Just to calm her down, I went to
touch her shivering arm. Just touch it. But she jumped back with a yelp.

Note to self: Don’t touch Ally.

Duh.

But
still
, she didn’t run away.

I retracted my dejected hands from
her general area, curling my fingers in my hair ‘cause I didn’t trust me to
keep my hands to myself—they wanted on her, bad. I stared at her with
hungry eyes, filled with curiosity. Also though, well, it was funny—that
she didn’t seem able to actually speak.

I grinned. “Just spit it out.”

“Aiden Hanks,” she blurted out, but
it was more like a coughing fit or something. “He’s my …”

When she choked again I finished
for her, still curious, “—your boyfriend.”

She nodded, looking surprised. Like
she thought I didn’t know who she was—but come on, she gave me my first
girl-made treat—the hugest cookie I’d ever seen.

Slowly light dawned in my confused
brain. Another grin grew on my face. “Oh, you’re here to beg me not to bash his
face in.”

My lips twitched again—
sorry
. Strange things strike me as
hilarious—especially when little punks sic their trembling, sweet
girlfriends on me.

I tossed my history book from one
hand to the other, trying to not look so amused. But come on. “The twerp sent
you?”

“No!”

She rushed out her next words, like
to stop me from getting the wrong idea. “Aiden doesn’t know I’m talking to
you.”

I grinned. “Then why
are
you talking to me?”

“Because—like you said, I
don’t want you to bash his face in.” She stared into my eyes—
oh man
.

Heat torched through my insides. Suddenly,
it was like I’d never been around a girl before. My skin pricked with some
weird longing and my heart was pounding like it had plans to leap out of my
chest and join the circus.

Man, what was she
doing
to me?

Still holding my gaze—in a
death-grip—like she knew what it was doing to my confused, ignited heart,
she whispered, “Please don’t.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I leaned against my locker and
gazed up at the ceiling. Finally I groaned,
then
let
out a long, frustrated breath before I looked back into her hypnotic beautiful
eyes. (Mmm. Man, I wanted to look into them all day, get lost in them.) I
cleared my throat.

“Look,” I said, being totally
sincere, which I’m usually not, but I wanted her to understand, at least a
little, “—I have to. The punk talked trash about me in front of the whole
team. It’s not like I can ignore it.”

“Yes you can!” She followed me as I
started to walk away.

She said it again—to my
back—all squeaky and desperate, “Yes you can!”

I kept walking, but she kept
following. “Please, can’t you? Please?”

Hearing the desperation in her
voice, my heart got all twisted up. I’m not exactly made of stone. I really
wanted to help her out. I did.
But the thing was—at the
same time that I wanted to help
her
… I also wanted to
hurt
Poser … even
more than before.
I’m a complicated guy—I guess. Never thought so
before, but man. I was being pulled two ways.

But at times like this, I always go
for the violence. I just do. Way easier to deal with. So, I guess I’m not
that
complicated.

I kept walking.

However, Cookie Girl wasn’t going
to let it go. Apparently. She did a brave, daring thing. She grabbed my arm.
Mine.
The guy that made her quiver.

Feeling her hand on me, I stopped.
Frozen.

Everything inside me wound tight.

Slowly, I turned back to her and
stared into her ocean-like eyes, getting lost in them—though she
obviously got my stare wrong. (Since she thought I was a bully and everything.)

She snatched her hand away
lightening fast, like she was terrified I was going to hit her or knock her
down … though what I wanted to do was grab her and kiss her. With all of my
heart, that’s what I wanted. I wanted to feel those cherry lips on mine.

She gulped, then squeaked out, “I
have some money—not much, but …”

I couldn’t help smirking. I shook
my head slowly. “I don’t want your money.”

For some reason she looked like she
was going to pass out—well, okay, I knew why she looked that way, pretty
much. My voice had come out all husky. Not on purpose. But it did. There was a
low, guttural-edged honesty that I didn’t want to hide, or cover up. So, she
probably had a clue what was going on in my brain—even if she couldn’t
admit it. Even to
herself
.

Still, there was no denying it—not
even
she
could—Church Girl,
with her girly boyfriend, and trembling heart—we were having a sizzling,
hot moment. One she didn’t want. But I did. And we were having it.

My eyes were locked on hers and no
way was I going to let them travel.

She swallowed. “Then what?” Her
voice
hitched
as I got closer, her eyes staying glued
to mine involuntarily. She wanted to look away, I could tell.
To not be in this position, so close to me.
But this time
was different than all the others. This time she
was needing
a favor—she couldn’t run away from me. Face
it,
she couldn’t even
look
away
from me. She didn’t want to.

At least that’s what I was telling
myself, remembering her cute songs about me, and her secret longing to feel my
lips on hers.

Screw Hailey and what she said, all
of her warnings about nice girls not going for me—this trembling, tiny
girl wanted me. I was pretty sure. I could read it in her wide yearning eyes.
She was scared, yeah … but turned on.

Church Girl swallowed again, still
set on saving her loser boyfriend (total mood killer). “What can I do?”

I grinned slightly.
Magic question
.