Griffin was at my elbow in a second. His lips twitched with an amused grin. “I’ll give you a ride, Grange.”
Aiden opened his mouth like he was going to protest but then he snapped it shut. It was pretty funny to see. If I wasn’t so near tears I might have laughed. Instead, I just tried to keep from crying, grateful that Griffin had come to my rescue. If nothing else, at least there was that—someone on my side, even if it wasn’t my boyfriend, even if it was The Grief-Master.
Aiden grabbed my hand, trying to drag me toward the door, but I didn’t move. Finally, he let out an exasperated breath and slammed down my hand. “Ally, the guy’s not interested in you. He just wants to piss me off. He’s never even looked at you before.”
Griffin didn’t say anything to that, but he quirked his eyebrows at me with a playfully sardonic expression, like, Ohhh, you didn’t tell him.
And it was kind of funny because, you know, he’d obviously noticed me before. Since we’d kissed that time in room 204. But ... come to think of it, that could have been to piss Aiden off too.
Actually, any attention Griffin ever paid me—it could have all been just that: to mess with Aiden. That made way more sense than anything else I could come up with. After all, Griffin had spent the whole night hanging out with Hailey—Hailey! That was the kind of girl he liked, the total opposite of me. Total opposite.
Suddenly, the butterflies I’d been feeling over Griffin’s kiss dissolved. Poof. They turned into a pile of rocks at the bottom of my stomach along with all the other rocks that were already there. This night was a nightmare and getting worse by the second.
As if to prove my point, Fiona came out of the bathroom just then and cozied up to Aiden. “I’m ready to go,” she said.
Griffin bit back a laugh at that, raising his eyebrows as though he wanted to make a smart remark about her comment. Only, I could tell he was resisting—though it seemed hard for him. Still, he didn’t make a peep. Instead, he stayed silent just watching my face and flinching his jaw.
He seemed to be waiting for something. I wasn’t sure what—me to cry? That’s all I could think of because I was afraid that was going to happen any second. I was going to start bawling.
Aiden said it again through clinched teeth, “Ally, when I go I’m not coming back.”
I nodded, swallowing. “Good, don’t. If you leave with her, I don’t want you to come back.”
Fiona flashed me a wicked smile. Then she tugged on Aiden’s arm. “Come on,” she purred. “I’ve got to go.”
But Aiden didn’t move. He stood looking at me, and I stood looking at him. I was ready to cry and he looked ready to do the same—burst into tears. Which was bad. His teammates would never let him live it down.
I knew I should just give-in. I knew that. There was no way Aiden could win in this situation—not now. If he backed down, the guys would call him “whipped.” They did anyway, all the time. They said I led him around by a tight leash. So, this wasn’t helping.
But ugh!
He made-out with Fiona in a closet!
Made-out. With her.
No way was I getting in the car with that nasty witch.
Finally, The Griff let out an impatient breath. “Come on, Fiona. I’ll give you a ride.”
Fiona blinked. “What? No. I want Aiden.”
Griffin’s lips twitched a smirk. “Yeah, no kidding. We all know that. But you’ve caused enough trouble for the Innocents tonight.” He pulled her towards the front door. “Come on. They want to make up.”
“But—but—”
Griffin ignored Fiona’s protests leading her outside.
When they were gone Aiden let out a deep breath and then swallowed, still dangerously close to tears. “Ally, I’m sorry.”
“I know,” I said, pulling him toward the front door. I didn’t want him to cry in front of everyone and once he started apologizing he would be a blubbering mess. Me too. I knew that—so I didn’t want the apologies to start now. I wanted them—big time. But not now. Not here. Anywhere but here.
As it was, the guys were saying, “Look at Poser, he’s about to cry.”
Jerks!
I led Aiden outside and he immediately hugged me tight as soon as we were out the door. “Ally, I was an idiot.” He sobbed into my hair. “I’m sorry.”
I started bawling too because I loved Aiden, but he was a total tool—or at least he had been tonight. Actually, had been lately—ever since he became chemistry partners with Fiona. It made me want to smack his head against the wall really hard. But I didn’t. Because he was crying and he was sorry that he was an idiot and bashing his head in would be wrong.
Only … at the moment, it seemed it would feel really, really good.
***
Okay, I have to tell you that Aiden doesn’t go around crying all the time. He doesn’t. But he is really sensitive and emotional. That’s what I loved about him. Two years ago, when we got together, that’s what drew me to him. I mean, besides the fact he’s gorgeous—with dimples and blond, curly hair and everything.
But I didn’t really, truly give Aiden a second thought until he had to read this essay he wrote in Honors English. He got all teary-eyed as he read it, and it got me teary-eyed. It made me think, “I want to get to know him.”
And once I did, then … I wanted to kiss him.
But we didn’t just automatically get together after that essay—well, not exactly. See, he was shy and I was too. So, it took us a while to even have a conversation. It helped that I would hear his friends tease him about me whenever I walked by.
They’d whisper stuff like, “Ohhh, look at Aiden blushing—there goes his crush.” Stuff like that. Stuff I wasn’t supposed to hear. Only, you’d have to be deaf not to.
Anyway, that helped me be brave.
So, one day before class started, I told him I really liked that essay he had read in class. It had been about breaking-up—loving someone so much, and then having to endure watching them move on and love someone else. I told him I was writing a song about it. (I happen to write songs about everything.) And he smiled all cute and amazed and said he liked to write songs too. And then he mentioned he plays the piano, and I play the piano, so … it was like there were cupids flying around our heads, shooting us with arrows.
The world was a beautiful place.
Not long after that, I asked him about the girl from the essay—asked him if he still liked her and he gave me this shy smile and said, “No. Now I like you.”
Awww. My heart melted, right there—became his to wound. I loved everything about him. Loved how he was shy but gorgeous, and amazingly talented but sweet beyond belief. The sweetest guy I ever met. I wanted to be around him all the time.
We started getting together to write songs, first in the library, then after school, and we’d play duets on my piano, and before long we were inseparable. And he fit right in with my friends, which was perfect. It was almost like he was one of the girls. Only he was a really good kisser. Really, really good. (Though I didn’t have a lot to compare him to.) He was awesome, amazing. He would go shopping with me and my friends and watch our “girly” movies with us and help us bake cookies. Plus, as I said, he was a good kisser. So see, he was a totally perfect boyfriend.
But then, ugh.
Last year he joined the hockey team—which was great. It was. Only, he wanted to “fit in” with those losers on his team. And he never would. Never. And I was glad because they were Neanderthals and Aiden wasn’t. He was the total opposite. He cried in Toy Story 3, bawled. It was sweet and I liked him like that.
It sucked that he tried to be a different person around his teammates. That’s why they called him a “poser.” Because he was. Around them. He tried to be someone he wasn’t, all tough and “guy” like.
So, our fight that night—after the Three Minutes in Heaven—could have gone differently. I could have been all understanding, knowing Aiden was just “posing.” Only it sucked that his “posing” meant he didn’
t have a back-bone and he couldn’t say, “No, I’m not going to kiss you, skank—I have a girlfriend.”
Aiden and I fought long and hard after the party and I didn’t talk to him for the rest of the weekend. He would call and call and call, but I wouldn’t answer. I was mad, fuming, and honestly considering breaking-up.
He had known I hated Fiona. He knew that. I had made it totally clear—multiple times. She was a sleaze and I knew she was after him. But Aiden always denied it. He always said, “She doesn’t like me like that, Ally. I know it looks like she does—but she doesn’t. She’s just a flirt.”
Then, when I huffed at that, he had this awesome comeback: “Look, Ally, she’s a hockey cheerleader—why would she want me?”
Grrr!
That had me seething. Like cheerleaders were so cool—so above everyone else. Like of course I was good enough for him—I wasn’t a cheerleader.
What really pissed me off (and broke my heart) was he seriously felt that way, really and truly. His teammates and the hockey cheerleaders—to him, they were Gods, in this world he wanted to be part of. So irritatingly bad.
Anyway, Monday morning I texted Aiden and told him I didn’t need a ride to school, Jazz had me covered. But Aiden showed up at my house anyway. He came extra early—bearing roses and an apology note that made me cry. It was so sweet and honest and said all the right words to get my heart all mushy.
Plus, I wanted to make-up. More than anything, I really did.
So, I let him drive me to school. But I didn’t exactly forgive him, not exactly. I felt wounded and betrayed and it didn’t seem that damage to my heart would ever heal, no matter what he said or did. It was sad, tragic, but that’s the way it was. It kept putting me near tears even after his note and apologies.
As we walked down the school hallway together—not holding hands, but not fighting either—we passed Griffin at his locker.
The Griff smiled at me as we walked by, getting my heart kind of fluttery and beating all spastic and wild though I knew it was stupid—stupid to get so worked up over a guy that was just playing around. But oh, his kiss! His kiss, his kiss, his kiss. It totally rocked my world—even now, still, I was reeling from it, even while I was bleeding from my boyfriend’s knife in the back.
“Hey, my Three Minutes in Heaven,” Griffin drawled near my ear as Aiden and I walked by. He was with Hailey, standing close to her, messing with her iPod. Still, I could feel his eyes on me as we passed and he was still looking at me when I glanced back afterwards. His eyes lingered on me as he bit at a small grin, looking yummy and seductive without even trying. But then Hailey nudged him and he went back to talking with her, probably instantly forgetting all about me because he was like that. Out of sight, out of mind. When a girl wasn’t right there in his sight, she was completely out of his mind—he instantly forgot about her … or in this case, me.
“I hate that guy,” Aiden growled, apparently noticing I’d glanced back.
“Oh, and I adore Fiona,” I said, making it sound like we were in the same situation. But we weren’t. Not even close.
Fiona actually really seemed to like Aiden—like, a lot. And Griffin was just messing around—playing with me to stir up Aiden.
So …
Grrr.
***
Slowly, over the next week, things seemed to be getting better between Aiden and me. I mean, we weren’t fighting anymore and he was being extra attentive and sweet and writing me romantic poems and love songs and stuff. And I’m such a sap, a total sucker for that sort of thing.
So, I was beyond distressed when I got to school the next Monday morning. Jazz had given me a ride since Aiden had hockey practice before classes. But just as we came in the school building Destiny grabbed my arm looking all anxious and worried. Just from that—her expression—my heart was in my throat.
“Aiden’s about to get his head bashed in,” she said.
A violent tremor rushed through my body as she gestured down the hallway. There was a large crowd of students gathering near Aiden’s locker, too many for me to see what was going on—but I could figure it out easy enough. One of Aiden’s teammates was about to make good on the mounting threats. Aiden bugged them. He was loud and annoying, trying to prove he was tough. It pissed them off.
My heart was exploding. I rushed toward the mob of onlookers, then tried to fight my way through the crowd to Aiden. I got close enough to see it was Jake Edwards fighting with him—huge, mean Jake Edwards.
“Stop it!” I shrieked. “Leave him alone!”
I tried pushing through the rest of the crowd to get to Aiden and Jake. My frantic plan was to pull them apart, and make Jake stop pounding on Aiden. But just as I was almost there someone grabbed me around the waist from behind, pulling me back.
It was Griffin.
“Don’t go in there,” he grunted as I fought to break free of his hold. “Grange, you’re going to get hurt.”
“No! Aiden’s getting hurt,” I cried. “Griffin, let me go! I have to stop it.”
Griffin quirked an eyebrow, but still held my wrist. He eyed me up and down as though making it clear I was tiny. “How are you going to stop it?”
I swallowed, about to stutter something out but then realized he was right. I would get massacred if I got near the violent, wild fist throwing.
I swallowed again, looking up into Griffin’s brown eyes, totally pleading, though I knew it was pointless. Griffin disliked Aiden. Really, really disliked him. Still, I had to try. “Will you stop them? Please?”
“Me?” Griffin raised his eyebrows, eyeing me as though I asked him to throw the cafeteria trashcan over his head—something disgusting and nasty.
“No.” He let go of my arms, taking a step away from me. “No. No way. The punk has it coming.”
“Griffin, please. He’s getting clobbered. Please!”
Griffin winced as I begged.
“Please, Griffin? Please, please?”
He gazed up at the ceiling flinching his jaw. Finally, he stared into my eyes seeming to be contemplating my request though visibly repulsed by it.
“Please?”
He let out a breath, punching the locker next to him, then reached through the crowd and grabbed Jake’s arm as though it was nothing.
“Fight’s over,” Griffin said.
“What? No way. What’s with you, man?!” Jake tried to break free of Griffin’s hold but Griffin pinned his arm behind his back.
“It’s over.”
I ran to my bloody, stupid boyfriend, too worried and anxious about him to thank Griffin or even acknowledge his help.
But that afternoon in cooking class we made fat double-chocolate cookies. I mean, they were huge. And we each got to take two. So I put one in a baggie for Aiden and the other I put in a baggie for Griffin.
I was going to give it to Griffin right after class, but then I couldn’t. I mean, I waited at his locker planning to give it to him, but when I saw him coming I chickened out and ran away. So instead, all during French class I worked on a “thank you” poem. It was pretty too. I liked it.
But I made it kind of “vague” and almost impossible to understand. Because I decided I would leave it for Griffin anonymously. He would never know it was from me or what it was for. He would just know that he did something nice and someone appreciated it. I thought that was kind of romantic.
I left class early saying I needed to use the restroom, then I hurried and used it so it wouldn’t be a lie. Then I ran to Griffin’s locker and slipped my poem through the little slot in the door and then, quickly, I taped the cookie, still in its baggie, to the outside of Griffin’s locker.
Then wham, I took off running down the hall super fast so I would be nowhere near him or his locker when he discovered the cookie and poem.
***
So, that was that was that—pretty much. I’d thanked Griffin in my own, shy, twisted way. Then, I went to work on forgetting about him. It ended up being way harder than I thought it would
be. Way harder. The thing was—his kiss.
I found myself thinking about it a lot. Like, constantly. Way, way, way too much. Way too much. At night before going to sleep, when I was writing a love song or poem, when I was brushing my teeth or taking out the garbage—all the time. Even when I was kissing Aiden.
I couldn’t help it! Thoughts of Griffin’s kiss would just creep up into my everything and turn my brain all mushy and oozy. It was bad.
And it was that way for weeks. Weeks and weeks. So, when Aiden and I finally broke up for the first time I was crushed … but not devastated. Because well, his kiss didn’t exactly do it for me. Not anymore.
So, when I caught him sitting all close to Fiona in the school library, not kissing but practically. I mean, they were basically fused together as they were “studying” and he—he played with a lock of her hair. Played with it! Like curled it around his finger as he gazed at her like she was a love goddess come from the hockey rink to make all of his “guy” fantasies come true.
Seeing that—it was like a punch in the stomach. By Aiden. And his actions. And his eyes—the way they were looking at her all, I want you.
Oh man.
Witnessing that scene—trauma to my heart. I clutched my stomach, reeling from the pain. Seriously, I almost died from a broken heart right there. But instead I took a ragged breath telling myself I’d had enough. I couldn’t take this, not anymore.
I mean, he liked her. He did. I could tell by the way he was looking at her and smiling at her and drooling on her. It was sick. Made me sick. I started to shake and sweat and practically double over from pain.
He was my boyfriend. But the way he was acting with her, you would never guess it. Not in a million years. It was more like they were in love and going to start making-out any second—right there on the library table.
Okay, I knew that wouldn’t happen. I knew that. Aiden would never technically cheat on me, not technically. But to me—at that moment—he was cheating on me. With his eyes. And heart. And hair-curling-fingers.
So, instead of going into the library and talking to Aiden as I was supposed to—as we planned—I ran home and cried. And cried and cried. I felt as though a knife had been slammed into my heart. And back. By Aiden.
His Kiss Page 3