Signed with a Kiss: A Novel (Signed with a Kiss Series Book 1)

by Jessica Sorensen

  “Well, maybe some guys are like that, but I’m cool with you being nosey. And FYI, the more stuff you tell me about Masie, the more I realize she might be even dumber than I thought, which is saying a lot.”

  My instinctive reaction is to defend Masie, since that’s what I would’ve done before what happened the other day. Now I just remain silent, focusing on spreading mayo on my sandwich and trying not to think about Masie and Blaine.

  “Should I apologize for that remark?” he asks after I remain silent for a dissecting amount of time.

  “Nah, you’re cool,” I tell him.

  “Good. Because I really didn’t want to apologize. I was just trying to be a good boyfriend.”

  I stack meat on top of the bread. “Fake boyfriend,” I stress again. “And I don’t think those have to be very polite since you’re not really trying to impress me.”

  “Oh, Lex, I’m always trying to impress you.” He sounds genuine for a moment, which is weird, and not just because it seems out of place, but because West is rarely genuine. “Anyway, at the risk of ruining my attempt at trying to impress you, I have to tell you something.”

  The girl’s voice rises in the background. “Hey, West, have you seen my shoes?”

  “They’re over by the door,” he replies. He must cover the phone because his voice is a little muffled.

  An icky feeling spins in the center of my gut. A feeling that reminds me a lot of how I felt when I saw Masie and Blaine kissing, only not quite as intense. The fact that it’s there, though, pisses me off.

  I shouldn’t be feeling this way. West isn’t my real boyfriend.

  Put that fucking mask back on, you dumbass.

  “Sorry about that,” West says, his voice a little bit louder.

  Not sure if he’s speaking to me or not, I don’t reply, knowing that, if I do, hidden emotions will crawl out of my lips.

  “Lex?”

  I quietly clear my throat. “Yeah?”

  “Oh … I thought maybe you hung up on me.”

  “I didn’t.” I drop a slice of cheese onto the bread then focus on putting the lid back on the mayo jar, which takes a whole whopping three seconds so, yeah, it’s an awesome distraction.

  “You’re being really quiet,” he says. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine.” I pause again, the feeling in my gut churning and churning.

  Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I refuse to feel this way. Ever. “Where are you?”

  He hesitates. “I’m actually crashing at a friend’s house.”

  The way he hesitates makes me wonder … “At Blaine’s?” And is the girl there Masie?

  “What? Fuck no.” The shock filling his tone sounds genuine. “Why would you even think that? After me punching him in the face? After everything I told you?”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize, aware that I’m being polite to him for the second time today. “I don’t know why I even asked that. I guess I just have trust issues or something,” I mutter, putting the slice of the bread on top of the cheese. Then I pick up my sandwich and take a big bite, mostly to prevent my mouth from saying anything else stupid.

  “That’s understandable, all things considered … But to ease your distrust, I’m not with Blaine. I’m staying at Holden and Ellis’s house. And that girl you just heard is just a girl Holden hooks up with sometimes. Her name is Harlow, and she’s always forgetting where she put her shoes. It’s super fucking weird, but she’s kind of super fucking weird. Like, the other night, while we were at this party, she told everyone she could see the future.”

  I pick up the mayo jar, lunch meat, and bag of cheese then move to put them back into the fridge. “So, she thinks she’s a psychic?”

  “I guess so. She never elaborated on it. But all I kept thinking while she was prattling on and on about how awesome her skills were was that, if she was so psychic, why could she not see into the future of where she was gonna find her damn shoes.”

  A beat of silence trickles by, and then I bust up laughing.

  He chuckles, too. “I thought that one would get you.”

  “It did.” I shove the stuff into the fridge, close it, then collect my sandwich from the counter. “And it’s a very valid point.”

  “I know, right?”

  “For sure.” I take a bite of my sandwich then head back to my room so I can have some privacy when I bring up the real reason I texted him this morning. Because the last thing I want to risk is Loki overhearing the conversation. “Why did you stay with them last night, anyway? Was there a party or something?”

  “No.” He gives a very long pause, and I can almost feel the humor evaporating from the conversation. “So, I have to tell you something, and it’s kind of embarrassing, but I feel like I should tell you because a). you’re my fake girlfriend, and it feels like you should know; and b). you kind of know about my homelife situation, so it feels like I can tell you.”

  “What happened?” I ask as I step into my room and shut the door.

  He sighs heavily. “Well, to make a long story short, my mom kicked me out of the house last night.”

  “What?” I nearly drop my sandwich. “Why?”

  “Because she’s a bitch,” he offers then sighs again. “Honestly, I think it’s been a long time coming. She’s been tired of my shit for a while. And after me punching Blaine … I don’t know, I guess that was the end of her patience for me.” He swallows loudly. “It probably doesn’t help that my dad decided to run for mayor and his reputation needs to be impeccable. At least, that’s what everyone needs to believe.”

  West has told me enough about his family that I know they put on a façade for everyone. What I’m still unsure about is just how bad things are within the walls of the mansion he calls home. Well, what he used to call home, I guess.

  “What’re you going to do?” I wonder, picking at the crust on my sandwich. “I mean, I know we graduate soon, but …” I trail off, not wanting to say it.

  I know West lives off his parents’ finances, and he’s been able to get a lot in life because of their connections. Not that I think he’s spoiled. He may have a lot of materialistic things, but his parents are straight-up assholes when it comes to all the emotional stuff kids need.

  “But what am I going to do for money?” he reads through my silence. “Well, when I’m twenty-one I can access my trust fund money, but that’s a ways off. How the hell I’m going to take care of myself now, I have no idea. I’m still figuring that out. My parents were kind enough to throw all my shit out on the porch for me to pick up, so I still have clothes and stuff. And my car was a present from my grandpa—the title is in my name—so they can’t take that away from me.”

  “That’s good. But what about the other stuff, like a place to live, food? You know, all the stuff it takes to live.”

  “I’m working on getting a job,” he assures me, the playfulness returning to his voice. “Don’t worry, fake girlfriend; you’re not going to fake date a deadbeat.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” I assure him. “I just want to … make sure you’re okay.” The words sound weird coming out of my mouth.

  Since when do I worry about West?

  About anything?

  “Aw, baby, are you worried about me?” he teases.

  And there goes any sympathy I felt for him.

  “Didn’t I warn you last night about calling me that?” I say then take a bite of my sandwich.

  “My bad. I totally forgot.” He’s all playfulness and teasing.

  It’s weird since, only moments ago, he sounded upset. It makes me wonder just how good of an actor West is. And, while it may come in handy with our little deal, it has me concerned that perhaps he hides a lot of stuff from the world.

  Then again, like I have any room to talk.

  I hide everything now, only releasing a few truths in spritz of paint that stain the brick walls around this town. But, come Monday, I’ll be painting up one of those truths, and I’m
not sure how I feel about that—to just erase a truth, paint over it.

  Will it be that easy to put it back in hiding?

  “So, totally off the subject but, why did you call me and text me earlier?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts. “Not that I mind. And I’m assuming it has to do with the party tonight, but I wanted to make sure.”

  Right. The reason I tried to get a hold of him this afternoon. I somehow got so caught up in West and his problems that I almost forgot about my own.

  “It’s actually about the unknown texter,” I inform him. “I just wanted to see if you talked to your friend yet about trying to find out who it is, because they pissed me off to the point where I told them to go fuck themselves.”

  “Wait … They texted you again?” Worry radiates from his tone.

  “Yeah, a handful of times.”

  “What else have they been saying?”

  “That they’re going to rat me out to the police if I don’t do what they say. Although, they haven’t told me what they want and I haven’t asked, which is what I think they want.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because it’s what it feels like.”

  He pauses for a beat. “I don’t like that this is steering toward blackmail. I mean, last night, the messages just sounded like someone trying to mess with you. But now that they’ve brought in threats, it feels different.”

  “But they haven’t really threatened me with anything,” I point out, sticking a chunk of crust in my mouth. “They’ve just threatened me with the idea of blackmail.”

  “Still …” He wavers. “You seem very calm about this.”

  “I’m not necessarily calm. I’m just refusing to let myself freak out because I feel like it’s kind of what the texter wants.”

  “Maybe.” Doubt weighs in his tone. “I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to Ellis about trying to figure out who’s sending you the text, but I’ll ask him as soon as I get off the phone with you.”

  “Thanks.” Although I’m still skeptical if West’s friend will be able to do it or not, I’m grateful that he’s trying to help me.

  “Awesome,” he says, and then voices rise in the background. This time they are male and female. “Hey, sorry to bail out on this conversation, but I have to do a couple of things this afternoon.”

  “No worries. I’ve got to do a couple of things, too.” A total lie. I have shit to do.

  Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem because, normally, I’d distract the emptiness of the day by staining walls and my fingertips with spray paint. But after getting busted yesterday and with this whole blackmail thing, I need to refrain from that. Plus, what Loki said the other day about Social Service …

  Guilt starts to filter through me again.

  I’m about to say bye to West when he says, “Hey, before you hang up, and I know this is totally off the subject and probably seems kind of unimportant with everything else going on, but we might have to make a late entrance to this party, because I have to meet up with my parents.”

  “We don’t really have to go if you can’t,” I give him an out.

  “I want to go,” he promises. “It just might be a little late. But these parties generally go all night anyway.”

  “True.” I take a deep breath, collecting myself. “All right, we’ll go later.”

  “Cool.” He gives a pause, and my stupid nerves creep up on me again. “I also think, if we want to put this whole fake dating thing in motion, we should probably meet up a little early today and go over some more stuff.”

  “Like what?” I wonder as I finish off the last of my sandwich. I mean, didn’t we go over that last night?

  When he kissed me.

  Touched me.

  Broke inside me for a moment and stole away the pain.

  “I don’t know … the details of how we’re going to act and stuff.”

  “Didn’t we already go over that?”

  “Vaguely, but I …” He suddenly seems either unsure or nervous about something. Either way, he’s acting kind of weird for him. “I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to help me out with something.”

  “You want help from me?” I question. “With what?”

  “Well, I need to find a job, and since I’ve never had one before and you’ve had many, I was thinking maybe you could help me with that?”

  “You know the reason I’ve had a lot of jobs is because I’ve gotten fired from a lot of jobs, right?”

  “I know, but you still have some experience with it. And I’d ask Ellis or Holden for help, but their job experiences are … different from the norm.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means they work for themselves.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Selling stuff.”

  “You’re being really vague.” I pause. “Is it because they’re doing illegal stuff?” Like hacker stuff? Because West has already said this Ellis guy is the one who is going to try to figure out who’s sending me these messages.

  “Kind of … Look, I’d rather not tell you, because Ellis and Holden get a little weird about it,” he tells me. “But I’d really appreciate it if you’d help me out with the whole job thing. And then, afterward, as long as Ellis says it’s cool, we can have him look at your phone and see if we can figure out who this douchebag blackmailer is.”

  I thrum my fingers on top of my leg. Part of me wants to help him, but the other part of me wants to keep this whole thing with West and me simply a deal. And going around town and helping him find a job sounds an awful lot like a starting point to a real friendship. And I already tried that whole thing with Blaine and Masie.

  “Sorry. Never mind,” he quickly says when I don’t answer. “You’ve probably got other stuff to do today anyway. I mean, you already said that, so I’ll just plan on picking you up tonight then.”

  He’s no longer the joking West I know. In fact, there’s a slight vulnerability to him in that moment. Maybe that’s why I say what I say next. Or maybe I’ve just finally lost my damn mind.

  “No, it’s fine,” I tell him. “I was just trying to think if I could cancel everything I had planned today, and I think I can.”

  “Are you sure? Because it’s fine if you can’t.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” I’m not, though.

  I’m not sure about anything.

  Truthfully, I’m not sure I have been since my parents died.

  Unsure Alexis Baker, hiding behind her mask that she built on that bathroom floor, where her ghost still lays, buried in the cracks of the dirty tile floor.

  “Okay. Cool.” In the snap of a broken sketching pencil, he goes back to the cheerful West I know. “You’re seriously like the best fake girlfriend ever.”

  “Don’t you know it,” I force a teasing tone.

  “Oh, I do.”

  “Good.” I let a tense breath ease from my lips, unsure why I’m even tense. All I know is that I am. “So, what time are you picking me up?”

  “Give me about an hour.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “All right, see you soon, baby.”

  “Dude,” I start, but he just laughs and hangs up on me.

  I shake my head as I hang up, too. Then I set my phone down and replay over what just happened.

  I know this dating thing is fake, but us hanging out this afternoon seems very real. And I know West suggested we maybe try the whole friend thing, but I didn’t think he was being serious—he rarely is.

  Apparently, though, he was.

  So strange and unfamiliar. I don’t know what to do with it.

  So, I do what’s easy. I get up to take a shower and change.

  I can hear the soft sound of music floating from Zhara’s bedroom, a song by, I’m assuming, Rebel Alyric Bliss, as I pass by her shut bedroom door. I still can’t believe what she told me earlier. It’s going to be kind of weird if she goes. Sure, we rarely talk to each other anymore, but with Jessa gone and now her … this house is going t
o seem quiet. Anna’s home for the summer, though, so I guess there’s that.

  And then there’s me. I have no clue what I’m going to do after they hand me that diploma in just a few weeks. Honestly, part of me questioned if I’d even make it that far, so I guess I should be glad that I did.

  Yet, I feel oddly empty when I think about the graduation ceremony. Like something’s missing.

  Something is, Alexis. Two things to be exact.

  I force down a shaky breath at the thought and hurry into the bathroom.

  By the time I get out of the shower and dressed, the house is silent, music no longer playing from Zhara’s room, and her bedroom door is open. I peek inside and find her room empty. Nik’s is, as well. I know Loki has already left to run the store, so I guess that means I’m here by myself.

  I check the time to see how long until West arrives. Still another thirty minutes, if he’s on time. Dude, how did I get ready so quickly?

  I glance in a mirror hanging in the foyer, taking in my reflection—my messy brown waves, my worn cut-offs, black T-shirt, and unlaced boots. I didn’t put any makeup on, besides some kohl eyeliner.

  No wonder it took me a total of thirty minutes to get ready.

  For the craziest moment, I contemplate going upstairs and putting in a little more effort to my look, but then I quickly pull my head out of my ass.

  What the heck is wrong with me? I’m starting to sound like the old Alexis.

  That concept makes me crinkle my nose at myself. Then I turn away from the mirror and head toward the living room to sit down on the sofa and wait for West. But, as I step into the room, I freeze when I hear a loud crash from upstairs.

  “What the hell?” I mumble, twisting around, my gaze darting to the top of the stairway.

  Was I wrong about everyone being gone? I checked all the bedrooms. Well, all except for one.

  My parents’.

  But no one really goes in there. Not even Loki. In fact, when he took guardianship of us, he moved into his old bedroom, even though it’s really small and still has his twin bed from high school in it. Not that it matters. It’s not like he ever has a woman stay over. Really, I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he gained custody of us little shitheads.