Last Year's Mistake

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Last Year's Mistake Page 7

by Gina Ciocca


  I didn’t tell him what I’d seen in the pool. Any minute now I’d be able to think about it without tasting bile, anyway.

  By the time we parked the car on Thames Street, the sea air had already started to work its magic and I felt myself relax. The temperature was much cooler than the previous night, and I pulled my sweater tighter as Ryan hugged me to his side and the familiar ocean breeze teased us with the scents of garlic roasting and fish frying and hamburgers grilling. The last of the summer tourists milled through the streets, getting their final fills of the sights and sounds that were home to me now.

  I squealed with delight when Ryan pulled me toward the Mooring. “I know it’s your favorite,” he said with a smile. “I made a reservation.”

  And he’d even asked for a table near the fireplace, the best spot.

  “Ryan, we still have almost two months until our anniversary. What’s this all about?” I asked again.

  He reached across the table for my hand. “I feel like you’ve been kinda distracted lately. I wanted to take your mind off things, spend some time alone.”

  I looked down at my lap. “I guess I have been a little distracted. And it’s not just because . . .” I trailed off, afraid David’s name might invoke the black cloud that seemed to hover between Ryan and me whenever he came up. “It’s other things too. My dad’s book has been getting so much attention, and he’s never home anymore because he’s either working or at signings and promos. When he does come home, he’s holed up in his office. Mom gets mopey when he’s gone too long, so she keeps busy by hounding me about college applications, and Miranda’s just in my face all the time, period.”

  Ryan looked down at our hands as his thumb brushed over my knuckles, his brow furrowed. It was the same pensive look that came over him any time the subject of college came up.

  “Have you thought any more about where you want to go?” I asked gently.

  Ryan sighed and sat back in his chair. “You know I need to go wherever my scholarship money stretches the furthest. My grades aren’t good enough to get in on academics, and my parents can go on a cruise every other month, but they won’t pay for the schools I want without at least a partial ride.” He leaned forward again and stabbed his straw through the lemon in his soda. “Your friend could really screw this up for me.”

  “Who? David?”

  “He’s good, Kelse. Really good. And on top of it, Coach and his dad are, like, college buddies or something. There’s no way he’s not making the team, and he’ll definitely be starting. Which means everyone will be watching him when they should be watching me. Which means he’ll be eligible for all the scholarships I would’ve had in the bag if he’d stayed the fuck away from here.” He ran his hand through his hair and grumbled, “Sorry for the f-bomb.”

  Oh, wow.

  No wonder he’d been so on edge around David. Not only did he see my past with him as a threat to our relationship, he saw David’s presence as a threat to his whole future.

  This could get ugly.

  “Ry, David’s a good ballplayer, but so are you. And you’re a senior. . . . Haven’t those decisions been made already?”

  Ryan’s lips twisted. “Clayton doesn’t announce their scholarships until the postseason banquet. And I wasn’t interested in any of the universities that offered early signing. I’m sort of holding out to see what else happens.”

  “Maybe David’s already picked his school and you’re freaking out for nothing. Besides, you’ve played at Clayton for three years, and if anyone deserves one of the school’s scholarships, it’s you. They’re not going to screw you over if they know what’s right.”

  Ryan frowned. “It’s not what you know. It’s who you know.”

  I leaned across the table and took his hand again. “I don’t want to talk about this particular ‘who’ anymore, okay? No more distractions tonight, for either of us. I want to enjoy the amazing night my boyfriend planned for me. All right?”

  Ryan squeezed my hand and smiled, his beyond-­adorable dimple coming out to play. My heart expanded about three sizes, and I pushed thoughts of David to the back of my mind.

  “All right, babe. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. And I’m sorry I’ve been such a mope lately. I’m over it, I promise.”

  I meant it. Or I wanted to. As Ryan and I walked hand in hand toward the marina after dinner, the sound of live music floating through the salty air, I’d almost forgotten why I’d been such a drudge all week. I might have succeeded in forgetting completely if I hadn’t spotted a pretty blond girl walking with her tall, dark-haired boyfriend. They were laughing and talking and one of her hands curled around the crook of his arm. In the other a bag from the taffy store swung in rhythm with her steps.

  I swallowed down the sourness that rose in my throat as Ryan pulled aside into a little patch of concrete that jutted out between two restaurants, where we could lean against the fence and look out at the silhouettes of the docked boats. He put his arm around me and I settled against his shoulder.

  He leaned in and kissed me, the soft warmth of his lips sending a thrill through me from head to toe. It was like having some of the poison from my toxic week drained out of my body.

  I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with everything I had, determined to force the rest of the demons out. By the time we pulled apart, both ready to escape to my mercifully empty house, I decided I’d never let David, or anyone else, get under my skin again.

  Ryan deserved so much better than that, and I was going to give it to him.

  Ten

  Rhode Island

  Summer before Sophomore Year

  I’ll never forget the first time things got weird between David and me. It was only for a minute, but it definitely happened.

  It was our second summer together in Newport. We’d bought some taffy on Thames Street and taken it to the Cliff Walk. The sky was the perfect shade of summer blue, and the sun sparkled off the ocean as we walked, biting our candy and stretching it as far and thin as we possibly could before it broke.

  “That was definitely a record!” David laughed, slurping a long, sagging ribbon into his mouth. “That had to be, like, twelve inches!”

  I nearly spit my own glob of strawberry taffy on the ground, or I would’ve if it hadn’t been stuck to my teeth. “Leave it to you to make it sound dirty! Do you boys always exaggerate when it comes to size?”

  David leaned against the railing, pulling another wrapped piece of candy from the pocket of his shorts. He placed one of the twisted ends between his teeth and pulled the other, exposing the soft purple cylinder as he leaned in close to my face and wagged his eyebrows. “I have no reason to ­exaggerate, Miss Kelsey.”

  I stepped closer to him, a smirk stretching across my lips as I flicked his taffy to the ground with my thumb and middle finger. “You’re gross.”

  “Aw, Kelse! That was a good piece!”

  I rolled my eyes and dug around in my bag, producing a piece the same color. “Here, take it. Besides,” I said as David plucked up my offering, “if I really wanted to know, I could ask Amy Heffernan.”

  While Eric and I barely spoke anymore, Amy and David had hooked up on and off for most of freshman year. Her name came out much harsher than I’d meant it to, like a bad piano note.

  A huge grin spread across David’s face, and he let out a hearty laugh. “Whoa! Am I sensing a little jealousy here?”

  “Like hell!” I meant it, though for some reason the sun felt especially hot on my cheeks at that moment.

  David leaned back against the railing, still grinning, cocky and braces-free. Without them, he had a killer smile. As he twisted his palms over the railing, I couldn’t help but notice all that baseball training had been kind to him too. His shoulders were broader, his arm muscles more defined. No wonder girls like Amy had sat up and taken notice.

  �
��Let’s just walk,” I said, hoping to drop the subject.

  “What even makes you think anything happened between me and Amy?”

  I rolled my eyes so hard, my whole head rolled with them. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve been the perfect gentleman.”

  I tried to give him a playful shove, but he looped his arm around my neck and crushed me against his side. “You’re doubting my intentions?” he said with mock indignation. “I’m not feeling the love here, Kelse.”

  His grip tightened, and I shrieked as my nose squashed against his shoulder, suffocating me with the scent of cologne and deodorant and taffy. Under different circumstances, I might have liked that combination. Or I might have liked it right then and there. But I didn’t have time to think about it, because David’s lips were suddenly right against my ear, his voice low as he said, “Know what sucks?”

  The tingle that rippled down my body took me completely by surprise. We’d hugged plenty of times before. So what the hell, exactly, was that about?

  I pushed him away, my hands flying up to fix the Miranda-like mess he’d probably made of my hair.

  “What sucks?”

  David paused dramatically. “That a gentleman never tells.”

  My hands froze midsmooth and my eyes opened wide. “A gentleman? Where?” I looked frantically in every direction, and while David’s laughter told me I got the last word, I wasn’t happy. On the one hand, I didn’t want to know what happened when a good-looking guy and a girl nicknamed Hoover were left alone for indefinite periods of time. On the other, I didn’t want David feeling like there were things he couldn’t tell me. I’d always scoffed at the idea that guys and girls couldn’t have uncomplicated friendships. But that was before outside relationships had created any lines in the sand between David and me.

  We’d reached the rocky part of the Cliff Walk when David rubbed his nose and squinted up the sky. “My nose is frying,” he said. “I can feel it.”

  “Come on.” I nodded in the direction of an out-of-the-way boulder and started toward it. “I have sunblock you can put on. It’s too frickin’ hot for rock climbing anyway.”

  David snorted. “You always find an excuse to turn around here.”

  I ignored him, even though he was right. Every time I even thought about going farther than where we were now, my blood pulsed in my ears and my head felt swimmy. Hopping boulders just didn’t seem like a wise choice for someone who bruised as easily as I did, unless I wanted to look like a topographic map by the time the trail picked up again.

  I sat on the sun-warmed rock, and David settled next to me, resting his arms on his bent knees. I had my trusty mini bottle of sunblock in my bag, and I put a piece of taffy between my teeth, letting it dangle like a coach’s whistle as I fumbled through the contents of my purse.

  That’s when I felt hands slide around either side of my face. Then a split second of soft, delicious heat against my mouth. I gasped. I didn’t even realize the candy had been pulled from between my teeth until I blinked my eyes into focus and saw David, laughing victoriously as he rolled my candy around in his mouth.

  I sat frozen, mouth gaping. My heart threatened to beat right out of my chest. I pictured it bouncing down the rocky incline until it landed with a splash in the ocean below.

  Calm down!

  But I couldn’t. Hadn’t he—didn’t that count as . . . ?

  “Payback,” he garbled.

  And his dumb ass sat there, chomping on taffy like he’d merely stolen a piece of candy and not put his nasty mouth that wasn’t even close to nasty all over mine.

  Which meant I was the only one freaking out.

  David laughed harder. “I really got you, didn’t I? How many times in your life have you been speechless?”

  “Did you kiss me?”

  “That wasn’t a kiss. If I kissed you, you’d know it.”

  So I was the only one freaking out. I swallowed hard and shook myself, looking at the bottle of sunblock that had mysteriously appeared in my hand. Sunblock. Right.

  “Very funny,” I said, popping the lid. “Hilarious. Here, put this—”

  But David had already turned toward me and closed his eyes.

  My jaw dropped again. “You want me to do it for you? Do I look like your mommy?”

  “Nah.” He didn’t open his eyes, but the smile still played on his lips. I gave up, making an exasperated sound as I squirted the white lotion onto my fingertips. Then he added, “You’re prettier.”

  I froze again. My heart flip-flopped as my hand hovered near his face. What the ef was up with him today? What the ef was up with me?

  Refusing to be the only one rattled, I brought my ­fingers down on his nose, maybe a little harder than necessary.

  “Ouch! Again, Kelse, not feeling the love today.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “Was that for the taffy?” His eyes opened, alive with amusement as they gazed into mine. “Or for Amy?”

  “You can do whatever you want with Amy.” I concentrated on the beauty mark beneath his lip, knowing he’d see my discomfort if I made eye contact. My new focal point wasn’t much help in the comfort department though, either. We were way too close to each other.

  “I won’t see her if you don’t like her. Say the word and she’s out.”

  “You would do that for me?”

  “Of course. You’re my best friend. Ergo an excellent judge of character.”

  I smiled and shook my head, touched that he’d place such importance on my opinion. Maybe there weren’t as many lines between us as I’d thought.

  I hadn’t noticed that my hand had wandered as we talked. I’d started to work some of the excess sunblock around beneath his lips, letting my fingers graze his jawbone. The harshness I’d started with had been replaced by gentle, exploring strokes. My fingertips lingered over his skin, and I didn’t know why.

  “I’d never tell you to stop seeing Amy if she’s who you want to see,” I said softly. “It’s not like you can control who you like.”

  Our eyes met as I said it, and something in his seemed to darken. My thumb brushed the underside of his bottom lip, and I felt it in every cell of my body.

  “I can’t, can I?” His voice was low, and his eyes searched mine. For a split second something electric passed between us—something I’d never felt before, never thought I’d want to feel. If I kept looking at him, I knew he’d kiss me. Except this time he’d mean to do it.

  And I wasn’t even close to ready for that.

  I sucked in a breath and looked away, snapping the cap of the sunblock in place. “No. No, I guess you can’t. But, um, thanks. For saying you’d put me first. It means a lot.”

  I arranged my face into what I hoped looked like a composed smile, though the pace of my heart was more conducive to vomiting. David flashed one back. “Anytime. I meant it.”

  With that, like a cloud that had passed over the sun, the weirdness was gone.

  Eleven

  Rhode Island

  Senior Year

  Over the next few weeks David and I became masters at paying minimal attention to each other, even in close range, like in English class or at our lunch table.

  It was easier with Violet around, because we could talk to her without really talking to each other. And because the David-induced stars in her eyes seemed to keep her from noticing the tension between him and me.

  Even so, I’d been having daily anxiety attacks over whether or not I should do something for his birthday when it came around. Sophomore year, I’d made good on my promise and decorated his locker and made sure everyone knew what day it was.

  Junior year, I hadn’t even called.

  But having him there with me, I felt like ignoring it was too deliberate. I walked down the hall toward where David stood at his locker, with a small box of taffy clutched in my hands. With
every step, I practiced the first half of my ingenious speech in my head: Happy birthday. This is for you. It beat the hell out of the second half, which even in my own head, sounded like, Blah blah blah, lame lame lame.

  Before I could get close enough, Violet came bounding out of nowhere with a white-frosted cupcake in hand. “Happy birthday!” she squealed, throwing her free arm around his neck and smacking a kiss on his cheek.

  Every time she hung on him that way, my mind went right back to the two of them in the pool; her fingers pressing into the back of his neck, his hands touching the skin left exposed by her beige bikini. It made me throw up a little in my mouth.

  When David’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, I turned and hurried back to my locker. They hadn’t seen me, but I felt overwhelming embarrassment, like I’d fallen flat on my face in front of the entire school. I shoved the taffy to the back of my locker and slammed the door, wanting to breathe a sigh of relief but nearly jumping out of my skin instead when Candy suddenly stood at my side.

  “Is that for David?” she asked. “It’s his birthday today, right?”

  “Um, I brought him something, you know, in case. But Violet’s got it under control, so, no big deal.”

  And then came the part I hated. Any time I witnessed David’s and Violet’s hands grazing, or caught them sharing a laugh, Candy would give me these awful, pitying looks, like she thought I must be dying inside. The same look she gave me then.

  “I’m not jealous,” I told her for the hundredth time.

  I wasn’t jealous.

  Maybe “possessive” was a better word.

  As much as I wanted nothing to do with David, I couldn’t ignore the fact that for a long time I’d been the most important girl in his life, and I’d liked it. I loved knowing he’d drop anything, or anyone, if I needed him. My ego inflated each time he greeted me with his biggest smile. In a way—a very comfortable, uncomplicated way—he’d always been mine. Until Isabel. But that’s a whole different story.

 

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