A girl from the marching band named Emi walks toward us and tilts her head at Flynn.
“Hey,” she says to him. She flashes a look toward me and my girls, and just as I’m about to say hello, I spot Kenzie at the keg and I nearly scream.
“What is she doing?”
Two football players have lifted her tiny form in the air, upside down, her dainty toes pointed, and she’s drinking straight from the tap as the guys cheer her on.
“A keg stand,” Monica says. “This is going to be a long night.”
“Or a really short one,” Lin grumbles, moving straight toward Kenzie with Monica behind her.
“Bye, guys,” I say to Flynn and Emi. He nods and she ignores me, keeping her eyes on him.
I don’t have time to worry about the snub as I make our way over to the keg. When the guys put Kenzie down, we try to drag her away, but she clings to the stupid thing.
“Wait! I need to fill my cup!” She’s not falling over yet or anything, so we let her have one more. “I have to pee.” She bounces up and down on her toes.
“I’ll go with you,” I say. She takes my hand, and we march through the people and grass to the trees. I hold her drink while she disappears into the darkness. I hear her murmuring “Drip dry, drip dry” in a singsong voice, and I stifle a giggle. Fifteen feet away, a plume of smoke drifts out of the woods. I walk down and see two dark figures, the tips of their cigarettes glowing.
“Wussup, Zae Monroe?” asks a smooth, somewhat familiar voice.
I move closer to see Joel. Kwami Russell, another guy from school, gives me a nod.
“Hey,” I say.
“You brought me a beer?” Joel asks. His short blond hair is messy, like he wore a cap all day, then ran his hands through it a hundred times. His T-shirt is fitted, but his jeans hang baggy and low.
“It’s my friend’s, sorry.”
“No worries. I don’t drink anyhow.”
Kenzie stumbles out of the trees, letting out a yelp when the brambles snag around her jeans. She comes over and takes my arm. I hand her the cup and she drinks before squinting into the trees.
“Hey, I know you guys!” And then, to my amusement, she goes straight toward them to hug them. Joel looks at me over her shoulder with amusement as he pats her back. And then Kwami opens his arms wide and Kenzie snuggles into his chest while he laughs. He takes a drag, turning his head to the side to blow out the smoke.
“We can stay like this all night if you want,” he says.
“You’re a good hugger,” Kenzie slurs.
I cross my arms. “Yeah, she has a boyfriend now, but she’ll always be the Hugging Bandit.”
The guys both chuckle, and I look at Joel again, remembering how nice he was at the shop. Their cigarette smoke stinks, but I still feel more comfortable standing there with them than I do over at the main party. When Kenz finally pulls away, some of her beer sloshes onto Kwami’s pant leg, and she gasps.
“Oh, my gosh, Kwamiiii . . . I’m so sorry!”
“It’s all good.” He grins and takes another drag.
I reach for Kenzie’s hand and pull her closer to keep her steady. A lull passes.
“Well,” I say, “I guess we’ll see you guys later.” They both nod, and we turn to leave them.
“I looooove sweet people,” Kenzie says to me. “Like, legit sweet, you know?” I have to walk slower when she lays her head against my arm.
“Me, too, Kenz.”
My heart gives a hard bang when I spot Lin and Monica standing with Dean. I pick up our pace, practically pulling Kenzie.
“Hiiiii, Dean!” Kenzie crashes into his wide chest and he gives an umph of laughter.
“Dang, girl, look at you,” he says, holding her at arm’s length now as she smiles goofily up at him.
“Dean is so nice,” Kenzie says, swiveling her head to me. “You should put him on your kissing list!”
My face goes slack with horror. “Kenzie, shut up,” I mutter.
Dean eyes me with a half grin. “Your what?”
“Nothing—”
Kenzie pushes out in front of me. “Zae’s making a list of guys—”
“I am not!” I laugh it off as if she’s crazy, though I want to die. “There’s no list.” I glare at Kenzie’s pouting face. “I’m not making a list of anything, Kenz.”
Her chin quivers. “Why are you yelling at me?”
“I’m not!”
“Come here, sweetie.” Monica takes her by the arm. “I think there are people you haven’t hugged yet.” Lin shoots me an upset look before she takes Kenzie’s other arm and they lead her away. I’m not sure if Lin’s upset with me or about Kenz, but surely she has to understand how embarrassing this is for me. My face is hot with humiliation.
Dean crosses his strong arms over his wide expanse of chest as I peer up at him. It’s like he’s waiting for me to explain, and I feel compelled to do just that.
“Look . . . when Wylie and I broke up, I was really mad and bitter, and then crap happened at home.” I swallow hard. “So, we all decided we were just going to be single and have fun and whatever. You know, just being crazy.”
His arms tighten. “Like with Rex Morino? Be careful.”
Now I cross my own arms. “I am.”
Does anyone tell a guy to be careful when he’s playing the field and having fun? Why should I have to be careful? Boys should take responsibility and have some freaking self-control whether a girl is being “careful” or not. I drop my arms and shake them out. I don’t want to be mad at Dean.
“I was glad when you texted me. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He uncrosses his arms to tweak my chin. “Glad you guys could come.”
My heart picks up speed as I look at him. “Dean?”
“Yeah?”
I have to go for it. I really wish there was a beer in my system, but I’m sober, and I have to push forward in a rush. “Did you write those poems? The ones Mrs. Warfield read out loud?”
He grins. “The ones about the girl making out with the straw?”
I roll my eyes with a smile. “Yeah, those.”
He shakes his head slowly, and I narrow my gaze, trying to figure out if he’s lying. He’s still looking straight at me, like he’s trying to figure me out, too.
“Why? Did you like them?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say quietly as he continues to ponder me.
“I know you wrote that one about your parents.” His face turns somber as my stomach wobbles. I look down at my feet. “It was good, Zae. But . . .” I look back up at him as he chooses his words. “Maybe when you’re hurting it’s best not to . . .”
“Best not to what?” I grit my teeth. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
He looks away, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying that. It’s just . . . not every guy’s an asshole, okay?”
“I know that,” I say, softer. But do I know that? Because lately all I can see is the negative. All I can see is that even guys like Dean and Vincent will hurt a girl at some point, like my dad did. And maybe I’m mad at myself because I still feel drawn to Dean—I still crave love—knowing it won’t last. It can’t last. I still desperately want the impossible, and I hate it.
“I need to go check on Kenzie,” I say. He nods, and I turn away, swallowing back all the emotion he brought out in me. That did not go as planned. And I still don’t know if I buy the fact that he’s not the poet, though he has no reason not to admit it. Unless he’s waiting until the perfect moment to tell me. Ugh. I want it to be him.
As I’m walking with my head down I see a pair of black boots and I stop, looking up into the gorgeous face of Rex Morino, all sharp edges and darkness. My insides seize as I jolt to a stop.
“Zae.” His voice is nonchalant. Uncaring. But the interest in his eyes gives him away. I am not in the mood for this.
“Do you remember the eighth-grade dance?” I blurt.
His eyes scrunch. “What?”
“
The eighth-grade dance. You danced with me. Do you remember that? And you said you’d be right back, that you were going to get us drinks, and then you left with another girl. Remember?”
He stares at me for a long time, and then his brow smooths. “Kind of.”
“Well, I remember it clearly.”
“Wait . . .” The corner of his mouth goes up in a smirk. “Is that what this is about? You’re trying to get revenge for something that happened when we were kids? Something I barely remember?”
“I don’t want revenge, Rex. I wanted a kiss. Just like you wanted a quick rub up against me at the dance and nothing more. No biggie. Let’s both move on, okay?”
His eyes harden. “Damn, you’re a bitch.”
“And you’re a dick. So we’re even.”
I push past him, feeling a heavy load fall off my back, making me walk taller. Hopefully I squashed his stupid, fake puppy love once and for all.
I find Lin and Kenzie dancing with a ton of other people by the truck, and I join them. Some of the kids from school are staring at me, and lean together to whisper. They must have seen me and Rex talking. When I get closer to my girls, Lin’s eyes widen and she pulls me aside.
“Listen, don’t freak out okay?”
My body tenses with an oncoming freak-out. “About what?”
“Kenz was really upset when we left you, and she was crying and people were, like, what’s wrong? and she told them you were mad at her for talking about your kiss list.”
Noooooo!
Lin bites her red lip, and my freak-out commences.
“Who did she say that to?”
Lin nods toward the crowd of dancers. “Just . . . them.”
I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. There’re at least twenty people from school in that group. Maybe they’ll dismiss what she said since she’s obviously drunk. Then I remember the stares and whispers, and I know it’s not likely.
“I told them all there’s no list,” Lin says. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. And who cares what they all think, right?”
“Yeah, whatever,” I say, trying and failing to shake it off. “Who cares?” So they think I’m making a list of guys I’ve kissed. What’s the big deal? I exhale loudly, trying to rid myself of the peevish feeling I have toward Kenz.
“Zae!” Angelo Garcia, crazy guy from my English class, rushes out from the crowd of dancers. I squeal as he swipes me off my feet, up into his arms, where he cradles me. I kick my feet, laughing.
“Put me down!”
“Nuh-uh, not until you put me on your list.”
One arm is around his neck, and I use my free hand to smack his chest. “I don’t have a list!”
“Aw, come on!” He tries to kiss me and I turn my face aside, making his lips hit my cheek. I can’t help but laugh because he’s such a clown. “Girl, don’t be like that.” He smiles down at me, looking so happy, and a black strand of hair falls over his brown forehead.
Oh, what the hell. I peck his lips with mine. It doesn’t count, as far as the contest goes, but that’s okay. He throws his head back and howls like a coyote.
I wiggle enough that he puts me down and dances his way back into the crowd.
“That doesn’t count,” Lin says, grinning with her arms crossed. “But I got one from Bodhi, so I’m in the lead.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I smile back, even though I’m still peeved. “I’m going to sit down.” Lin reaches out and squeezes my hand before going back into the throng of dancers to stay with Kenzie.
I find a giant stump and sit. Where’s Monica? My eyes scan until I find her.
Talking to Dean.
Their faces are close as they talk. Both smiling. She bats his big shoulder, and he throws his head back in laughter. I’m frozen like a statue as I watch, my heart hammering, my stomach twisting. They’re touching a lot. He didn’t touch me when we talked. My skin starts to crawl. My eyes burn.
I know this feeling, but I’ve never experienced it toward a friend. I’m seething with jealousy, and it’s gross. I want it to go away. A plume of smoke from the trees catches my eye, and I get up to walk toward it.
Joel is alone, leaning against a tree. He lifts his chin in greeting.
“Kwami left?” I ask.
I follow his eyes and see Kwami flirting with Meeka. “Ah.”
He takes another drag and I ask, “Why do you smoke?”
Joel gives a single-shouldered shrug. “It relaxes me. And maybe I have an oral fixation.”
My eyebrows go up, and he takes another lazy drag. I move closer.
“Can I try?”
He lowers the cigarette to his side and eyes me. “No.”
“Why not?” I’m weirdly offended. “Afraid of my germs?”
His lips quirk. “Definitely not. But I won’t contribute to the delinquency of an innocent. Even if she does keep a naughty list.”
His words punch me in the chest with surprise. Has the whole freaking party heard now? My hands clench into fists, and I stomp toward him. “I want to try. Please?”
His lips purse, and he holds it out. “Take it easy. Just a tiny breath.”
I put my lips to the filter and suck air through it, hearing the tip sizzle.
“You got nice lips,” he says softly.
His compliment hits my brain at the same time the smoke hits my throat, choking me. I bend at the waist, coughing like crazy, desperate for fresh air. It burns and tastes nasty. Joel chuckles as he pats my back.
“Damn. Sorry ’bout that.” He takes the cigarette from my fingers.
“How can you stand that?” I ask as I get my breath back. I lean my hands on my knees and look up at him through watery eyes. He drops the stub and crushes it beneath the toe of his shoe.
“You can get used to anything, Zae. Even things you don’t like at first. One of the downfalls of human nature.”
Deep thoughts. I stare at him, and a flutter sails through me. I brace myself and ask, “Did you write the poems in English?”
“English? Ah, you’re referring to what I like to call nap time.” Joel cocks his head, examining me. “Do I look like a poet to you?”
Damn. “Well, you don’t have one of those beret things, but you’re smart.”
He laughs, and his teeth are bright white.
“You shouldn’t smoke anymore,” I say softly. “You’ll ruin your nice teeth.”
His smile falls, and he looks serious. “Thanks for caring. I’ll keep that in mind.”
A quiet moment follows, and we both stare at the party scene before us. I drag my eyes from Dean and Monica, who are still talking.
“How did you hear about the list? There’s no list, by the way. I haven’t written down a single name.”
“Everyone keeps a list,” Joel says, “even if it’s up here.” He taps his head, then inclines it toward his friend. “Meeka came over and told us. I told her I wasn’t interested in her bullshit gossip, and she stomped away, pissed off. Then Kwami chased her like a damn tomcat.” Joel shoves his hands in his deep pockets and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. I remember what he said about having an oral fixation, and it sends a zap of hyperawareness through me.
Joel looks out and curses under his breath. I turn to see Sierra walking toward us. What is she doing? Her curls are perfect in a way that I can never hope for. Maybe because hers are made by a curling iron and mine were made by Mother Nature. She stops in front of us and smiles brightly.
“This is an interesting sight.”
“Sierra,” Joel says in a tone that sounds like he knows her. “Can I help you?”
“Just saying hello.” Her attention turns to me. “Zae, did you hear that you’ll need a roundoff back handspring for tryouts this year? I know you couldn’t do one last year.” She gives me a look of pity. Joel chuckles darkly down at the ground, shaking his head.
“Yeah.” I push my curls behind my ears. “I need to work on it.”
She pulls a worried face.
“You don’t have much time. Good luck. Oh!” She gives my arm a playful touch. “I heard about your list, you bad girl.”
I shake my head. “Kenzie is drunk. There’s no list. Nothing like that.”
“Mm-hm.” Sierra gives me a huge wink with her long lashes. “I don’t recommend adding Joel to the list, though.” She lifts a hand like she’s telling me a secret, though he can clearly hear. “Smoker’s breath.”
Joel’s expression never wavers from that of nonchalance. “Never stopped you.”
Again, my eyebrows fly up as I look to Sierra in shock. She would never slum it with a guy like Joel, would she? The fire in her eyes as she glares at him makes me wonder.
“You wish,” she says. Her hair swings as she turns and walks away.
I can’t help but stare at him as the surprise still courses through me.
“You and her? You know each other?”
“Our dads were partners, back in the day.”
I think about Sierra’s family’s car business “At the dealership?” I ask.
Joel nods. “My dad owned the mechanic side of things. They were best friends until they went into business together. My dad went bankrupt getting out of it. Never quite recovered.” His jaw clenches like he’s said too much, and he clears his throat.
Oh, wow. I can’t wrap my mind around how bad it must have been for his dad to go to those lengths. “Did you and Sierra really kiss?”
He answers without hesitation. “Back in eighth grade, ninth grade, we did a lot of stuff. Till it became apparent she’s as manipulative and greedy as her dad.”
I gape at his complete transparency. In the firelight his eyes are light blue.
“Zae!” I turn to see Lin jogging toward us. “Kenz’s getting sick.”
I groan and give Joel a wave.
“Good luck,” he says. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and taps it against his palm.
I walk backward away from him. “You should think about quitting,” I tell him.
Joel pops one between his lips and says, “I’ll think about it.” And he flicks his lighter to life as I shake my head and jog off.
Monica has walked Kenzie to my minivan, where she sits in the grass, leaning against the bumper. She’s as pale as a vamp.
“I’ll see if there’s a bag in the van.”
Kiss Collector Page 11