A Kiss in the Dark

by Gina Ciocca

  It’s a jab, not an observation. Meredith needs to be in the center of the action at all times, and she hates when she’s not. Especially when it means that I spent the night at Ben’s house and she didn’t. But I hope that when I tell her my news, it’ll buff out some of the soreness.

  “Definitely worth it. Joel asked me to homecoming.”

  Sure enough, her eyes get huge and bright and she gasps for ten straight seconds. “Shut up!”

  I clasp her hands and try to control the involuntary bouncing that happens every time I think about it. “I know!” I lower my voice, but the words still come in an excited rush. “And I’m almost positive that your invitation is coming next. Ben told me he needs a favor from me.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  “I don’t know yet. Phonegate happened before I could find out. But I was going to his locker next, so—”

  “Then why are you still standing here?” she cuts in, all evidence of her previous attitude gone. “Go!”

  So I do. I run, actually. Until I get close enough to sneak up on Ben at his locker, poking both sides of his waist.

  “You didn’t warn me,” I say. He jumps, almost dropping the book he’s loading into his bag, and I giggle. “Ticklish?”

  “Maybe.” He slams the locker door. “And anyway, you didn’t warn me either.”

  “About what?”

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it up. “That your mom would be answering your texts for the rest of the weekend. Though I kind of figured something was up when you didn’t check in.”

  I tell him the story of my post-slushie welcoming and consequent grounding as we head down the hall. When I get to the part about Joel surviving my parents’ interrogation, I say, “So did you know he was planning to ask me to homecoming or what? Because if you did, you’re not a very good informant.”

  I’m 100 percent teasing him. But Ben stops and stares at me like I sucker punched him.

  “He did?”

  There are so many possible ways to read those two simple words. I can’t tell if Ben is upset that Joel didn’t tell him first, upset that he still hasn’t found the courage to ask Meredith, or just upset, period.

  “I guess he didn’t tell you?”

  “That’s putting it lightly.” He shakes his head. “He told me he wasn’t going at all.” His voice rises on the last word, like he’s working very hard to subdue a tidal wave of anger.

  “Well, I guess he changed his mind? It seemed pretty spur-of-the-moment, if that makes you feel any better. I’m sure he would’ve told you if he’d thought about it.”

  Even as my mouth is running, I’m racking my brain for reasons why it matters so much. And it occurs to me that maybe Ben was stalling on asking Meredith until he could convince Joel to go with me. It makes sense that he feels a little slighted in that case, and if it’s true, then I can add it to the list of things I owe him for—

  “Oh!” I say. “I never got the chance to ask about the favor you wanted. I meant to, and then my cell phone got taken away. So what did you need?”

  Ben lifts the straps of his bag off his shoulders and shrugs. It’s a gesture so small and sad that it makes my heart sink. “Forget it,” he says. “I’m an idiot.”

  I reach for his arm when he tries to turn away. “Ben? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s pointless.”

  “You didn’t think it was pointless yesterday.”

  He detaches me from his sleeve, and something shifts between us, the kind of shift that makes my stomach feel both too full and too small.

  “Yesterday’s not today.”

  * * *

  The rest of the week is a blur. Ben finally asked Meredith to homecoming by holding up a sign in his bedroom window as she stood in front of hers, and everything after that has been a whirlwind of preparation and pep rallies and appointments.

  Speaking of which, I can’t keep the grin off my face as my hairdresser turns me loose from her chair, my hair a masterpiece of flowy tendrils. I’ve already had my nails painted with a sheen of iridescent sparkle, and I can’t wait to see how it looks against the sparkly lavender fabric of my dress.

  I also can’t wait to see Joel’s face when he sees me. I can’t wait to see him in a suit. I can’t wait to see him, period. My excitement levels are a little ridiculous, and I could not care less.

  My mother oohs and aahs as I turn to face her, as does pretty much everyone in the salon. The girl who takes my place in the chair says, “Do mine like that.” And I don’t blame her one bit.

  “Not to be the heavy,” Mom says as we shut our respective car doors in the parking lot. “But I want your word that you’re going to be safe tonight. No repeat performances of the last time you went out with this Joel character.”

  “He’s not a character, Mom. He’s a boy. And we’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “And you’ll check in with me if you’re running late, or if your plans change?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “Good.” She smiles lovingly and brushes a tendril away from my face. “You look beautiful.”

  I settle into my seat and reach for my purse to see if I have any new messages as Mom puts the car in gear. When I pull out my cell, there’s a text from Joel. My heart pumps a little harder. I wonder if he’s as excited as I am.

  When I open the message, I have to read it three times before it registers. My hands go cold and clammy around the phone.

  I’M SORRY BUT I CAN’T MAKE IT TONIGHT. MOM GOT CALLED INTO WORK AND I HAVE TO WATCH MY BROTHERS.

  My mother must hear the air rushing from my lungs, because her head snaps toward me and she asks what’s wrong.

  I have to stare at the screen for a few more seconds before I can turn the croak in my throat into an answer. “Joel canceled. He says he has to watch his brothers tonight so his mom can work.”

  “What?” It’s a miracle that we don’t swerve into oncoming traffic with the intensity of her reaction. “Can’t she switch with someone? Can’t someone else watch them? It’s three hours before the dance!”

  “I guess not.” I’ve graduated from shocked to numb. “It’s not his fault, Mom.”

  But that doesn’t stop my throat from constricting with the threat of tears. I can’t believe this is happening.

  “I’d babysit them myself if we didn’t have the boys’ banquet tonight. I just don’t understand how this could—” Mom holds up her hand, takes a deep breath, and composes herself. “I’m not letting this night be ruined for either one of you. We’ll figure something out.” She keeps one hand on the wheel and digs in her purse on top of the center console with the other. “You said Joel lives in Willowbrook, right? The Miltons live there too. Remember Agnes? She watched Michael when Aaron had his accident. Her son doesn’t play soccer anymore, so she won’t be at the banquet. I’m sure she wouldn’t have a problem taking Joel’s brothers for a few hours.”

  I’m filled with hope so quickly that I’m surprised it doesn’t emanate from my body like beams of light. “You think so?”

  “I’m certainly going to ask. If she can’t do it, maybe she can recommend someone else in their neighborhood.”

  Mom is already on the phone with Mrs. Milton as we pull into our driveway. She orders me to go upstairs and do my makeup, as if a change in plans isn’t even a possibility. And because everything in me wants to believe it, I go. But first I send a message back to Joel.

  SIT TIGHT. WE HAVE A PLAN.

  I try to stay calm while I put on my face, but it’s not easy. Especially when outside the bathroom, my house is chaos. Michael and Aaron are fighting over the guitar that Ben left for Aaron to practice with. I jump every time my mom’s cell phone rings, which feels like every five minutes.

  Meanwhile, mine remains eerily silent.

  The mirror betrays the shake in my hands when I’m finishing off with a coat of mascara. And that’s when Mom appears in the doorframe. One look at her face tells me everything I need to know.


  “So Mrs. Milton was more than willing to take Joel’s brothers tonight,” she says softly. “But we kept getting voice mail when we called the number you gave us. She thought maybe there was a problem with the phone, so she took it upon herself to go over to the Hargroves’ house.” Anger flashes in her eyes when she pauses, and all I can do is wait for the bomb to drop. “Joel’s mother isn’t at work, honey. She answered the door. Joel, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found.”

  I sit down hard on the edge of the tub, cold prickles of nausea climbing up my throat. Why would he lie to me?

  Mom sets her cell phone on the sink and kneels in front of me. “I’m so sorry, Macy. Mrs. Hargrove had no idea that Joel had used her as a cover. He actually told her that you canceled on him. She tried calling him as soon as Agnes explained what was going on, but apparently he’s turned off his phone.” Her teeth clench. “He must know he’s going to have a lot of people to answer to for this. Including me.”

  She looks ready to kill him with her bare hands. But all I can feel are waves of devastation crashing over me. The excitement that was building all day—since Joel asked me to the dance, really—bursts all around me, as fragile and fleeting as soap bubbles.

  And when my mother pulls me to her and hugs me tight, I can’t hold back. Rivers of painstakingly applied mascara flow down my cheeks and into her shoulder, while chords of “Smoke on the Water” drown out the sound of my sobs.

  Twenty-Four

  SENIOR YEAR

  There’s a ruckus near the waterfall, and Jadie gasps. “Shit! We missed it!”

  We both take off toward the noise, negotiating the rocky incline of the creek bed as fast as we can. The word “Rigged” is shouted seconds before I see Noah sauntering toward us, one arm raised above his head and a shit-eating grin on his face.

  He’s holding the purple pennant.

  “Rigged!” number eighty-eight shouts again. “Riiiiiigged!”

  “Whatever helps you sleep tonight, you sore-ass loser,” Noah claps back, never breaking his stride. He tosses the flag into the air and snatches it in a victorious fist.

  Meredith’s head pokes over the guardrail at the observation deck, and she yelps, “The purple flag has been found!” The air horn wails, followed by groans and shouts and the sound of feet rushing to reconvene from all over the park. Luckily, Jadie’s snapping away with her camera, because I forget mine even exists.

  “You know what they’re thinking, right?” I say in a hushed voice when Noah reaches my side.

  “Of course. That because it was my idea, I somehow cheated. The real question is, do I give a shit?” He clears the steps to the observation deck two at a time, clutching the pennant high over his head. In other words: not a single one.

  When we reach the deck, Meredith positions Noah between herself and Tyrell and waits a moment for the stragglers. The more people gather, the louder the protests become when they see Noah holding the purple flag.

  “Look at them,” Jadie whispers. “Five seconds into not getting their way, and they’ve all reverted to two-years-old.”

  And Ken, of course, is the loudest of them all. “What the fuck, Tyrell?” he barks. “Why’d we even bother coming if the whole thing was a fix? Granger should be disqualified.”

  “Hey,” Tyrell booms, raising both arms above his head to quiet the protests. “Y’all need to take a seat. The purple flag was Noah’s idea, but the only people in this park who knew where it was hidden are Meredith and me. Nothing was rigged. Nobody cheated. Are we clear?”

  “He’s so hot when he’s authoritative,” Jadie says, and I swear her eyes actually turn to hearts.

  “So if we’re done being sore sports,” Tyrell continues, “I suggest we give it up for the cheerleaders and Noah Granger, winners of this year’s pennant hunt.” He slams his hands together in three loud claps. The rest of the group follows his lead, though only half of them applaud with any kind of enthusiasm.

  “All right, Noah,” Meredith says. “You know what this means. Your name will officially appear on the ballot for the homecoming court, and you’ll get to choose one other partner in crime.” I wince. If people think Noah cheated, that wasn’t the best choice of words. “You’ll have until Monday to decide on your nomination—”

  “I don’t need until Monday,” Noah cuts in, rocking on his heels. His gaze fixes on me. “I nominate Macy Atwood.”

  My jaw drops. There’s a rustle of gasps before Jadie gleefully shoves me off-balance, and then I’m trying my hardest to pretend that every eye in a ten-foot radius isn’t on me. I’ve stood in front of crowds fifty times this size and never felt as scrutinized.

  “Macy!” Meredith trills. “Noah Granger has nominated you for the homecoming court. Do you accept?”

  Joel told me I’d be doing myself a favor if I went to homecoming with Noah. And Ben warned me against going with Joel. What do I have to lose?

  “Of course she does,” Ken says before I can respond. “Macy can’t get enough of Pirate—”

  “I ACCEPT,” I say, drowning out the predictable rest of his comment. Under my breath I grumble, “Come up with some new material, Ken.”

  I make my way to the center of the deck amid lackluster applause, at least from the cheerleaders. And I guess I get it, because I’m no longer part of their camp. I voluntarily hung up my pom-poms when I feared they all saw me as a traitor after the fire last year. But that doesn’t take away the sting of knowing my fears weren’t unfounded.

  “Pretty sure I just saw a unicorn fly out of your ass,” Noah murmurs with a wink.

  “Congratulations, Macy,” Meredith says quietly. She turns to the crowd. “Cheer girls! Assemble for a winners’ picture!”

  While she’s distracted organizing the squad, Noah leans in to me. “Mace,” he whispers. “If I tell you that I wish it had been me who kissed you on the field . . . can I still be your date for homecoming?”

  I look up at him. I shouldn’t feel like a block of granite dropped into my stomach—I suspected it all along.

  In my head, I always knew the kiss might’ve been a fluke. A tasteless joke. Someone taking advantage of being in the right place at the right time.

  In my heart, I wanted to believe it was so, so much more than that.

  And until two seconds ago, there was at least someone who wanted to take credit for being part of it. Now all I have is a memory that obviously meant nothing to the person I shared it with.

  “Did you know Joel works at the Mill Club?” I demand. “Was that why you brought me here to ask me to homecoming?”

  Guilt floods Noah’s eyes. “It—might have had something to do with it.”

  I turn away with a disgusted sound and put a step of distance between us. Less than honorable Pff. What a jerk.

  Noah hangs his head. “So I guess that’s a no?”

  The disappointment in his voice is the first blow to my resistance. The second is the fact that I asked him to be straight with me, and now I feel like I’m punishing him for it. But the third, as much as I hate myself for it, is the realization that I might have to go to homecoming alone again this year.

  Been there, done that.

  “I get it, Mace,” Noah says solemnly. “I hope you find whoever kissed you.”

  I sigh. If we’re really going to wipe the slate clean, then I need to check my wounded ego at the door. “Do you really want to go with me to homecoming? Because whoever he was, he doesn’t. So—”

  The side of Noah’s hand brushes against mine. “It’s a date. As friends?”

  I hook my fingers around his and give them a quick squeeze. “Friends.”

  Jadie’s camera clicks as Noah hugs me to his side. I wonder if my guilt will show in the pictures. Because I’m thinking of Joel, and the haunted look in his eyes the last time we talked. And even though he’s sent me signals more mixed than a salad and I have every reason to believe that he’s chosen to walk away from me yet again, I feel like I might’ve made this decision a l
ittle hastily.

  But as I scoot closer to Noah and stare into Jadie’s lens, I have to believe that a hasty decision isn’t necessarily the wrong one.

  * * *

  The hunt lasted only an hour, and the post-hunt swim about another. But I feel like I pulled an all-nighter. My head is pressed against the glass of Jadie’s passenger side window, and I’m only half listening as she and Noah joke about their homecoming outfits. He’s teasing that he’s going to make me wear a tux while he wears a dress as a show of support for Renata and Criselle.

  “Watch what you say, Pirate Booty,” Jadie says, her finger pointing backward at Noah’s face. “She’ll totally hold you to it.” When I don’t answer right away, she pokes my side. “Back me up here, Macy.”

  I sit up straight. “Noah can wear a dress if he wants, but I only got to wear mine for all of five minutes last year. I have lost time to make up for.”

  I hope he doesn’t call me on the half-assed smile I flash. Drama aside, going to the dance with Noah will be a great time, and that’s all that should matter. Whatever my problem is, it’s not his fault.

  We pull into the Arbor Creek entrance, and I’m kind of wishing I’d had Jadie bring me straight home instead of agreeing to stop at her house and powwow about the next RF spotlight and the homecoming bulletin board after we drop off Noah. It shouldn’t take long, but it seemed like a better idea when we came up with it yesterday.

  Especially when we pull up to Noah’s house, and I see his car still sitting in the driveway.

  “What the hell?” he says under his breath. “My dad was supposed to call the tow truck.”

  If I’d never fallen down the rabbit hole of looking at my photos from last year, the University of Georgia Bulldogs decal that I’d never noticed on Noah’s rear window wouldn’t mean a thing to me. Except that it had also appeared in the background of at least four of those pictures. On a car the same shade of electric blue.

  The jerk in the blue car.

  All I can hear is Joel’s voice in my head.