by Ivy Adams
Saturdays back home were always spent with Piper, Izzy, and Mei, even if it was nothing more than hanging out, with Piper bemoaning the cruel fate that had landed them in a town with nothing to do. At least they were doing nothing together. Now, Cassidy was on the other side of the globe and the thought of another eight weekends without them made the distance feel that much more vast.
And she missed her mom. They exchanged e-mails almost every day and Skyped at least once a week, but of course it wasn’t the same as sitting at the table together in their cozy kitchen, griping about her mom’s job at the hospital and Cass’s schoolwork over reheated pizza.
This whole thing sucked, especially considering she couldn’t remember a day since she’d turned ten when she hadn’t wanted to be as far away from Paris, Texas, as she could get. So, this homesickness was a real kick in the ass.
Irony—it wasn’t just a theme for an American Lit paper.
Cassidy gulped down her orange juice and gathered her plate and Mrs. Gatwick’s to take to the kitchen sink. “I thought I might make the cliff run from Bronte Beach to Bondi,” she said, trying for a bright, excited tone so the older woman wouldn’t guess just how lonely Cassidy was. She knew it would only make her worry, and then she’d just feed Cassidy more. “The guidebook says it’s a must do, and I feel like some exercise.”
That wasn’t a lie, at least. A good sweat and sore muscles always made her feel better. Between riding the buses across town, making the 3.5 kilometer run, and getting back, it would take her at least four hours. She could bring her swimsuit and dip into the waves a bit to burn some more time, though she suspected the water would still be freezing this early in spring. But if she played her cards right, she could occupy herself till at least midafternoon, followed by an early supper and a bit of “telly” in the evening with Mrs. Gatwick before bed, and that would be another day down. As Mei would say, success is all about careful planning.
“You should ring Lucas,” Mrs. Gatwick trilled. “He’d be nice company for that, I’d imagine.” Yes, Cassidy imagined he would—he of the warm-honey-colored-eyes-and-heart-palpitating-smile-and-I’m-pretty-sure-he’s-an-excellent-kisser looks. And she did have his number—in case she needed someone and Mrs. Gatwick couldn’t be reached. Of course, she’d never actually dialed it.
Calling someone like Lucas wasn’t like making a three-pointer at the buzzer—that she could do in her sleep. Making a move on a hot guy, though, was so not her game. She wasn’t Germaine, for chrissake. Just thinking about it made her tummy squirm with angst-ridden awkwardness.
Besides, he’d probably forgotten all about her. Or if he hadn’t, maybe his offer had expired. He could have a girlfriend, too—guys that cute didn’t have to wait around for strange girls to call them.
“Well, I’m off soon to meet Beatrice Farley,” Mrs. Gatwick said. “We’re having our toes done, then a bit of lunch. And this evening, Mr. Barrington is taking me for supper and dancing.” She stood with her teacup and twirled to the sink, the ruffles of her lavender housecoat fanning out over fuzzy slippers, her gray-blue eyes twinkling. Mrs. Gatwick was what Cassidy’s papa would call a “handsome” woman: trim, good bones, a nice smile, aging gracefully. Mr. Barrington was a lucky man.
“Help yourself to anything you’d like in the kitchen, m’dear, and don’t wait up for me, I may be late.” Mrs. Gatwick gave her a saucy woman-to-woman wink. Cassidy forced a closed-lip smile to keep her eggs and bacon from coming back up. Why did older people always get a kick out of making sexual innuendos in front of the children? Yuck.
“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Gatwick, you have a good time.” Mrs. Gatwick blew her a kiss as she left to get dressed.
Great. Sixty-five-year-old Mrs. Gatwick had a rockin’ love life and Cassidy might as well fill out an application at the nearest convent for all the good coming to Australia had done for her in that department. Not one guy had asked her out. Not one. Although the guys in Texas had never been subtle about why they wanted to be with her, at least they took a swing. Here, where she had a clean slate, no one would even come up to bat.
Cassidy put the dishes in the drain board and trudged upstairs to the small gabled room that was her home away from home. She flopped onto the twin bed, propped her already open laptop on her stomach, and logged onto Facebook. Maybe one of the girls was online and they could chat for a while, but no. She tried to calculate the time difference in her head, only to realize it didn’t matter. Everyone was offline.
She clicked over to the IKC fan page and scanned the updates.
Mei sounded hungry.
Izzy was bored.
Piper was—Good God! Twelve points! Piper had racked up twelve points. In just two weeks; three more than yesterday. She was like some lip-locking ninja over there. Chapstick should take out ad space on her lips.
Cassidy shut her computer. This was getting ridiculous—somebody besides Piper had to get in the game. She glanced sideways at the night-stand, where her phone sat holding Lucas’s number, so far her only lead to scoring some kissing points. Before she could come up with another excuse to stop herself, her hand shot out and grabbed the phone. She scrolled down to his number and pressed dial.
In her stomach a watermelon-sized glob of nerves formed, then congealed like her Memaw’s Jell-O mold when the ring went unanswered. Damn. This was worse than calling her dad to ask for the trip money. After all, she’d had years of experience dealing with her father’s disinterest, but this … this could be rejection on a whole new level.
It rang a fourth time. If he didn’t pick up now it would go to voice mail. Cassidy decided this would mean she’d given it her best shot, but it just wasn’t meant to be. She wouldn’t leave a message.
“Hello?” answered a groggy, gravelly Aussie voice on the other end.
She glanced at the clock and cringed inwardly: 7:58—she’d woken him up! Smooth. Desperate much?
“Hello, Lucas? This is Cassidy Barlow; ah … you picked me up at the airport.” There was a pause on the other end, during which Cassidy was certain her heart beat no less than a hundred and fifty times, and then she heard the rustling of sheets and the groan of mattress springs as if he’d sat up in bed. She had to force herself not to drool over that mental image.
“Yeah, the American girl. I remember you,” he answered at last. “You didn’t call me. I was heartbroken.” Cassidy swore she could hear the smile in his voice.
That was promising.
“Yeah, I’m sorry to call you so early on a Saturday and all, but I was wondering if maybe”—courage, Cassidy, just spit it out, she heard Piper’s voice say in her head—“I could take you up on your offer to show me around Sydney. Unless you already have plans, then don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”
Yay, Cass, you did it! Piper’s voice cheered.
“I do have plans—”
Her courage belly-flopped onto her spleen. Screw you, Piper.
“No, no, don’t worry,” she interrupted him, now wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible and therefore minimize the soul-scarring embarrassment that was even now beginning to travel along every nerve ending in her body. “Like I said—no big deal. Another time—”
“Cassidy—”
“I have, like, eight weeks left, so maybe another time. Or not. Okay, then.”
“Cassidy, wait.” Lucas laughed at her insane rambling. “Jeez, give a guy a chance. I was going to say I have plans to surf with a few mates, but I’d like you to come.”
“I don’t surf,” she said lamely.
“Just because you haven’t, doesn’t mean you can’t. Whatdya say, American girl? Think you can hang Down Under?” he challenged in his too-sexy accent.
That did it—Cassidy could never back down from a challenge. “I’ll be there.” After Lucas gave her directions and they hung up, Cassidy was buzzing. Not only had he remembered her, but he’d invited her to go surfing—it wasn’t officially a date, since his friends would be there, too, but it was som
ething. She was off the sidelines and ready to play. She reopened her laptop, the IKC fan page still on the screen, and dashed off a new post: Ariel, may the best kisser win.
Three hours later, however, Cassidy was seriously second-guessing her decision.
She disembarked with the other ferry passengers onto the dock and into the covered landing. A sign overhead proclaimed: MANLY … SEVEN MILES FROM SYDNEY, AND A THOUSAND MILES FROM CARE.
Carefree was not how Cassidy would describe herself at that moment. More like on the verge of a total and complete nervous breakdown.
Why was this freaking her out? Any normal girl would be thrilled to be meeting a cute guy on the beach. But not Cass. What was wrong with her?
Chill, Cass. This is no big deal. It was just going to be a friendly get-together on a public beach. Kissing was an option, not a requirement, for the day. And only if Lucas initiated, because the phone call had been enough for her.
Taxis and cars lined the street in front of the landing and people milled along the corso, the shop-and-restaurant-lined plaza that led to the beach.
“Hey, Cassidy, over here!”
She turned and saw Lucas jump over the side of his Bronco and come toward her. He looked like a Billabong ad, in his boardshorts and flip-flops—a sun god, descended to walk among the mortals. What had she been thinking? He was so out of her league.
She waved and gave him a nervous smile. “Hey, Luc—” but before she could say anything else he wrapped her in his toned arms, lifted her off her feet as if she weren’t almost as tall as he was, and hugged her like they were long-lost friends rather than near strangers. Normally, something like this would have put her on her guard. She didn’t like people in her personal space, but with Lucas, she didn’t mind so much.
“I’m happy you called,” he said after he put her down.
“Me, too,” she said, enjoying her fluttery excitement.
“Come on, then.” He took her hand like it was the most normal thing in the world and led her toward the car. “My mates are waiting for us. You brought your suit, yeah?” He took her backpack and opened the car door. Two surfboards were in the back.
“Yeah, but don’t expect too much from me,” she said. “I live about three hundred miles away from the nearest beach.”
Lucas slid into the driver’s seat. He winked as he started the car. “No worries, Cassidy. I’ll have ya frothin’ by sunset.”
Fifty waves later, though, Cassidy was pretty sure she wasn’t frothin’, unless it was from the mouth after the gallons of saltwater she’d just swallowed.
Coughing and spluttering, she managed to drag the longboard to the beach before she collapsed, exhausted, on the sand next to it. She closed her eyes against the brilliant white sunlight and focused on drawing long, cool breaths into her burning lungs.
A shadow crossed in front of her lids and cold drops of water pattered over the small amounts of skin her wetsuit didn’t cover.
“Are you okay, Cassidy?” Lucas asked.
“I think I almost drowned that time.”
“Nah, you pretty much had it.” She could hear him holding back laughter, though. “You did it just like I said to and you were standing up. You got off balance a bit, that’s all.”
She cracked open one eye. Lucas was leaning over her, an arm braced on either side of her in the sand, little drops of seawater glistening in his hair and on his grinning face. The smell of zinc oxide clung to him.
“You make it look too easy,” she accused him with a laugh. He and his friends, Anthony and Zed, carved the water like Michelangelo through marble, as Piper would say. Their grace and precision and the utter confidence in their play was amazing to watch.
“That’s ’cause I’m part shark,” he said, and she laughed. “You were doing great, Cass. You’re a natural. I know if you can just get up, you’ll love it. When you’re out there, it’s just you and the board and the hum of the ocean—you’re totally free from everything and everyone. There’s no feeling like it in the world.” The tip of his finger moved a wet clump of hair off her face, and he stared into her eyes for a moment before he leaned toward her. “Well, except, maybe this …”
Panic set in. Her heart began flip-flopping around in her chest like an Olympic gymnast during the medal round, and she would probably have hyperventilated if she’d been able to breathe at all.
God, she hadn’t been kissed by anyone in so long. What if she’d forgotten how? What if she sucked at it? What if—
And then every last coherent thought she had suddenly floated away when his mouth touched hers. Warm and gentle lips slanted across her own, easing all the tension from her body into the shifting sand beneath.
He tasted heavenly, like the salty waves and hot summer sunshine. Cassidy reached up to place her hand on his back, pulling the heat of his body closer, feeling the play of his muscle beneath the neoprene wet suit. She felt him smile against her lips, and he deepened the kiss, still tender and sweet, but just hard enough to make sure every cell in her body came wholly alive. The dizzying sensation made her shiver.
Lucas lingered another moment before slowly pulling away. “Are you cold?” he asked, pausing only an inch or two from her lips, which did nothing to help stop the shivering.
“N-n-no,” she stuttered like an idiot and closed her eyes, willing him to kiss her again.
“Cassidy, you don’t have a guy back home, do you? No Texas cowboy that’s gonna want to kick my ass for that?”
The thought made her giggle. Jeez, was she channeling Piper? She opened her eyes. “No, there’s definitely no boyfriend, especially not a cowboy one.”
“Good,” he murmured.
“Hey, get a room, you two!” Zed’s voice taunted from down the beach.
“Yeah, there’re kids out here,” Anthony joined in.
Lucas laughed, then kissed her quickly on the tip of her nose. “I’ll never hear the end of this. Come on, then.” He stood and pulled her limp body up with him. “One more try for you, and this time you’re going to ride the wave all the way in.”
She didn’t need to. Cassidy knew without question that kissing Lucas had felt way better than surfing ever could.
IKC Fan Page
The Official Fan Page for the International Kissing Club
871
people like this
IKC Page
Messages
Between Izzy and Mei:
Izzy
I’m sorry you’re having a terrible time. I guess I’m not the only one who’s miserable.
Mei
Is it that awful? I’ve met Germaine’s Chinese doppelgänger. Am beginning to have a whole new sympathy for Piper. But how are you holding up? You’re not just sitting at our table by yourself, are you?
Izzy
At our table? Hell no. Al Gore and I are spending quality time together under the trees in the courtyard.
Mei
You mean his books, I assume. I hope Germaine isn’t hassling you now that Piper’s gone and she has no one to torment.
Izzy
Are you kidding? I’m not even a speck on her radar. So, at least I’m okay on that front. I just miss you guys.
IKC Page
Chapter 11
Izzy
Izzy still hadn’t decided what to do with the earrings from River. In her free time—which she had oodles of, now that Mei, Cassidy, and Piper had abandoned her—she contemplated various methods of destroying them. As delightful as the suggestions on the IKC page had been, most of them were too dramatic. In the end, she decided to channel Mei.
Last year, when Mei broke up with her long-term boyfriend, John, she simply gathered the detritus of their relationship and politely dropped off the box at his house. No drama. No emotion. And the dopey expression on John’s face had been visible even from the car, where the three of them sat waiting to head to the movies.
Obviously, Izzy wasn’t going out to Lubbock. But when Saturday rolled around, she gassed up Brittney an
d headed for the farmers’ market in Sherman, which was where she and River had first met nearly a year ago. His mother had a stall in the back, where she sold beeswax candles and tie-dyed shirts that hung from the awning rafters like brightly colored flags.
When Izzy got there, Autumn, River’s mother, was chatting with a customer, but as soon as the woman left, Autumn engulfed Izzy in a big patchouli-scented hug. Autumn was a tiny woman, with long brown hair worn in a braid down her back. As always, she was dressed in jeans and one of the T-shirts she’d made.
Wrapped in Autumn’s soothing embrace, Izzy squeezed her eyes shut against the tears prickling the backs of her eyes.
“Oh, honey,” Autumn cooed. “I’m so glad you came by. I was worried when you and River broke up that I wouldn’t see you anymore. Come sit down. I have a really nice ginger maté tea in the thermos.”
Izzy swallowed past her tears, tried to speak, and then just nodded as she sank into one of the chairs at the back of the stall. Autumn bustled around, offering roasted soy nuts and fresh figs, before sitting down beside Izzy and gently patting her hand.
And that was when Izzy knew why she’d really come. It didn’t have anything to do with the earrings. She just missed Autumn’s gentle maternal air. The way she focused her attention so completely on Izzy. Her own mother never did that. Not when Shane had so much more potential she could be cultivating. After years of benign neglect at home, was it any wonder Izzy had missed this?
A second later, she burst into tears, without ever handing back the earrings or even explaining why she’d come. Autumn just let her cry.
By the time Izzy was cried out, Autumn had sold three more candles but no T-shirts. Apparently the kind of customer who bought tie-dyed T-shirts was easily scared off by hysterical girls.