Authors: Angela Morrison

Tags: #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Christian, #Friendship, #Juvenile Fiction, #Sports & Recreation, #General, #Religious, #Water Sports, #Death & Dying

Taken by Storm (14 page)

Leesie follows me home after school. i bring the laptop out of the bedroom, set it up on Gram’s coffee table. Leesie spreads out my books and hers, coaxes me through a bunch of overdue assignments. i struggle with dumb stuff, can’t concentrate long, get really stuck on English. Nothing to write. i sit on the couch, holding my laptop, staring at a blank white page in a sea of blue. Leesie works beside me, her pen scratching away.

i give it up and Google
Cozumel Diving Deals
. It’s taking forever. i lean over and kiss Leesie’s cheek.

She elbows me away. “I’m working here.”

“Sorry, i was just checking.” i inhale. She’s got her hair trapped again.

She stops writing, squirms. “What?”

i put my hand on her rib cage. “i just wanted to make sure you’re real.”

She sighs, leans back, and lets me kiss her. “Real enough?” She strokes my face.

“You’re not going to dump me tomorrow?”

“Dump you?” She picks up her pen and bends over her notebook. “You’ve never been dumped.”

“Are you always like this? So committed?”

She stops writing and swallows. “I’m never like this.”

i put down my laptop, pick up my dive log, flip it open, get lost between the pen and the page, studying Leesie’s smooth, pink lips. “Am i your first? Kiss?”

She turns red. “Am I that bad?”

“Let me check.” i kiss her—lose my writing stuff in the cushions between us. “Fast learner.”

She pulls away. Finds my dive log. “What does a diver write about in Washington?” She looks hopeful. Wants me to share.

i tuck the log away safe, reach for her again, but she fends me off.

She winks at me. “You’re not my first.”

i can’t see her with any of the guys at school, especially Troy. “Who?”

“You are nosy.”

“And you’re not? Come on, you know everything about me.”

“I know nothing about you.”

“Everything worth knowing.”

“Not all the girls you’ve kissed.”

“You want names?” i pick up the laptop. The screen shows a page of promising hits. “i don’t think i know them all.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Your turn.” i lean against her arm, trying to mess up the rhythm of that perfect pen scratching. “i’m waiting—” i put the laptop down and cross my arms.

She keeps scribbling. “Just a guy in our branch.”

“Your branch?” i snatch the pen out of her hand.

She pulls another one out of her bag. “Branches are tiny LDS congregations. We meet in Rockford, a couple of towns up the highway.”

“And LDS is?”

“Latter-day Saints. Official nickname for Mormons.” She starts writing again.

i steal her second pen. “You have an old boyfriend at church?”

“No.” She sits up and puts her hand out for her pens.

i shake my head.

“Okay. This guy, Jaron, and I grew up together. He’s kind of like a big brother—gave me rides to regional church stuff in Spokane. Dances mostly. He’s in Brazil on a mission teaching people the Gospel.”

“You dated big brother?” i put her pens on the coffee table next to my laptop.

“He always had girlfriends in the wards, big LDS congregations, up in Spokane. We went out once before he left. Just for fun.” Her creamy cheeks turn their pink. “He kissed me goodbye and asked me to write.” She grabs for her pens.

i catch her hand and won’t let her go back to work. “Do you write to him?”

“Some.” She slumps back into the couch cushions. “We’re friends.”

i play with her hand. “You’re blushing about it. i’m not sure if i’m cool with that. What other secrets have you got lurking behind that pure facade?”

“Secrets? Me?” She frowns and sits up, reaches for her pens on the table. “Jaron and I are real friends.”

“i guess i believe you.” Why does it bug me that some Mormon nerd kissed her? “So what was it like? The kiss. Was it any good?” i lean over and nuzzle her neck. “If it was just a peck, it doesn’t count. i’m the first.”

She slips the band off her hair. “Better than a peck”—fruity hair scent flows into me—“but not like you.”

i think about Mandy—at least she trained me well. “i had a good teacher.”

Leesie covers my mouth with her fingertips. “I don’t want to hear.”

So i show her. The no-tongue thing makes for a creative challenge. i suck softly on her cheek and kiss her jawline. My lips explore her neck, careful not to leave a mark that will get her in trouble. i lift her hair and tunnel under it, kissing the soft back of her neck, rubbing her leg with my other hand.

Leesie arches her back and shifts her body so her lips get the action. She digs her hands into my hair and draws me in. i kiss her closed eyelids and then press hard on her mouth again, pushing my body into hers, forcing her prone on the couch.

She immediately twists out from under me. “Are my feet on the floor?”

i roll onto my side and look down. “One is. Almost.”

She sits up and puts both feet firmly on the floor.

i ease myself behind her. “Lesson over?” i drip the words into her ear.

She kisses my temple. “Recess.”

Later, i drive her home, kiss her good night at the front door, take my time about it, afraid of what will happen when the door closes and i’m alone. i want to let my hands slip north so she’ll know i appreciate her As, but i don’t want her to freak and think i’m a creep like Troy, so i control myself, keep her rule.

My toes are numb by the time i catch sight of a pixie peeking at us. “There’s a little face at the window.”

“You better go.”

“The fish?”

“My mom’s miracle baby.” Leesie kisses me one last time and opens the door.

“Kissing, kissing, kissing,” swirls singsong into the night.

Leesie scoops up the kid and twirls her around. “Be quiet, Stephie.” She stops twirling long enough to say, “Good night,” and kick the door shut.

i watch them through the narrow window that flanks the door. Leesie throws the kid on the sofa and tickles her. She looks beautiful, laughing and happy, playing with her sister. i stand there like a creep peeping Tom, can’t tear myself from the scene. i never wanted a sister or brother. Only child was cool—Mom and Dad and me. Easy to travel with just three. Stephie runs up the stairs, probably still singing her kissing song. Leesie chases after her.

i stare at the empty room, hoping she’ll come back.

chapter 19

PIECES

LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 10/8 11:03 P.M.