The Kiss That Killed Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 1)

by Kristy Nicolle

  I look around my room, I notice parts from easier times, parts from harder ones. My life is a cracked mirror, each shattered fragment reflecting parts of me, the image splintering further as I grow apart from my origins. My dad’s dead and my mom … well she is not herself. No wonder I feel conflicted about who I am. Or maybe that’s just what they mean when they say the words ‘teenage angst’. I spy my Bunnyboo, my cuddly, raggedy bunny from when I was a child. I remember hugging him each year for five birthdays, wishing on shooting stars, eyelashes, and birthday candles that my father would turn up. That fantasy lasted less time than the one that Bunnyboo was real and could talk to me in secret whispers. I stare at the rocking chair in the corner, now draped with dirty clothes. I remember sitting on my mother’s knee when it was just her and me, when things were simpler and I trusted what she said to me. I shake my head, enough of that, I’m beginning to sound like Dr Seuss, and the thought of rhyming in happy Disney fashion makes me want to cry all the more. Birthdays are always hard, people take knowing where they come from for granted … but at least I have my friends. My room is simple, white furniture, turquoise walls, and a few shelves with books I’ve read. Posters of my latest craze in music or film litter the ceiling, most of them provided by my friends. I look at the photograph on my desk: the girls and I huddled up under an umbrella on a rainy afternoon a few years ago. This is the only photograph in my room because it’s the only one I can bear to look at. In this photograph, I was actually happy. What it shows is the truth, not a lie with a fake required smile plastered on. I think without my friends sometimes I would go crazy with loneliness. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my sister, but there are only so many ways in which you can connect with a four year old. I hear a buzz and I flip open my phone after retrieving it from the depths of my pocket. It’s a message from Mollie and reads:

  ‘Dnt 4get to dress up warm!’

  I smile, throwing the phone onto my bed before stripping down. I dress in a white cotton camisole and blue shorts and cuddle back into my duvet, nesting amongst the cotton and closing my eyes as I eventually drift into a dreamless sleep.

  “OW!” I cry out sitting bolt upright, hair strewn across my face. My little sister, or ‘little monster’ as I should refer to her, has launched herself onto my stomach while I am still asleep. The frost bitten depths of something I cannot quite explain fade into the recesses of another night as I slow my breathing and the shock of Kayla’s impact dissolves. Her brown hair is still knotty from a night’s (undisturbed I might add) sleep. I can’t see her face as it’s buried in my side and her pudgy feet are sticking out from under her nightdress. I shake off my bed head and begin to tickle them until she lets me go and cries out.

  “Happy Birthday Calliedile!” her face is exploding with excitement and I hear the creek of footsteps coming up the old wooden stairs. My mom emerges from round the corner with a tray in her hands. She beams as she comes into the room; she is wearing a blue button up blouse and cream slacks, her hazelnut locks seeming as silky as ever in the light of the morning.

  “Happy Birthday sweetheart!” she smiles and sets the tray down on my lap. It’s my normal birthday breakfast, pancakes with blueberry eyes, a strawberry nose, maple syrup smiles and whipped cream hair framing their fluffy pancake heads. A glass of orange juice sits at the edge of the tray and next to it lies a small box wrapped in metallic looking, purple wrapping paper.

  “Where’s Carl?” I ask looking around, curious as to why I am not under his usual scrutiny.

  “He went fishing with a few friends from work.” My mom sighs as she sits down on the side of my bed.

  “Oh.” I breathe out, feeling less tense.

  “Honey, I don’t understand what your problem is with Carl. He’s never been anything but nice to you.” She looks down into her lap, like a small child, ashamed.

  “Mom, I have the same problem with him that you do. You just don’t see what he’s done to you, because you’re in love with him.” I claim.

  “Oh and what problem is that?” She questions me as though whatever comes out of my mouth will be absurd. I take my hand and place it on her neck, around the buttons that close the collar, hiding her feminine curves. Her beauty.

  “Mom, look at yourself, you don’t … dress how you used to … you don’t see your friends anymore, you never go out!” I exclaim, feeling so angry with her for allowing this man to change who she is. To turn her into, not my mother, a strong independent woman, but rather a loyal, intimidated housewife without a voice of her own.

  “Yes well …” she pauses, knowing what I say is true. “That is my choice Callie, not yours. I love Carl and that is all that should matter to you.” She doesn’t sound angry but I wonder if under the million layers of restrained smiles and repression, the woman I once knew as my mother is stirring, ready to scream at me for denying her my approval. She doesn’t, rather she does the exact opposite, placing her hands folded neatly in her lap and spreading her lips in a seemingly content smile.

  “Why don’t you open your present, honey?” she encourages, changing the subject as Kayla dips her index finger in the whipped cream hair on my second pancake and devours it grinning. I smile at her, after my conversation with mom; I seem to have lost my appetite.

  “Take what you want.” I tell her, handing her the fork. She daintily, upon my approval, picks up a strawberry leaving the face without a nose, and pops it into her mouth. Juice runs down her chin and my mother wipes it with a napkin from under a vase I’ve only just noticed that contains a water lily, my favourite flower. My mom’s encouraging glance becomes too much as my curiosity mounts and I grab the tiny purple present, give it a shake and set about unwrapping it. Inside the wrapping is a white velvet box, I pop open the lid, the velvet soft to touch, and on a cushion of the same soft velvet lies a thin, white gold chain and attached to the bottom is a teardrop diamond, glinting in the light.

  “Oh …” I gasp, shocked at the generosity. It’s no secret we aren’t the wealthiest family in the world. I grasp my mom and pull her into a tight hug. Kayla leans up trying to see what all the fuss is about.

  “Can I see?” She asks obtusely and I release my mom.

  “Sure.” I say smiling as I take a last glance at the diamond necklace before turning the box round so she can see.

  “Ooh!! It’s so shiny!” She squeals with delight as it catches the light pouring in through the window.

  “Oh that reminds me, Mrs. Jones rang about babysitting tonight, but I told her it was your birthday. She agreed to rearrange her dinner so you can babysit Thomas another night, and still get the money you need for gas next month.” She smiles, pleased with her success.

  “Thanks mom.” I smile back at her, taking the diamond from its box and fastening the chain around my neck. The diamond glints against my flesh and I feel my heart flutter beneath, this has to be the best present I have ever gotten.

  The rest of the day passes in a blur: cards containing money from my grandparents arrive in the mail and I lose myself in constructing a den with Kayla between two sofas in the front room. I can’t believe that, while I put the sofas and chairs back to their rightful places and Kayla runs around yelling “I’m a Ghost!” while giggling under the sheet we used for a roof, it is almost 5pm. I return to my room after catching the mystery sheet-wearing phantom with a stupid grin plastered on my face and as I pick up my phone off my nightstand, I note two texts. One from Daryl:

  ‘Hope you have a fantastic birfday babes! Luv ya xxx’

  I sigh. How does he know today is my birthday? Oh I bet Mollie let it slip yesterday … I ponder this, slightly irritated, then realise the better question is how he got my phone number! I decide I’d rather not know about his stalker tendencies tonight and check the second message. It’s from Mollie:

  ‘Happy birthday you oldie! Can’t wait for tonight, I’m buzzin’! xxxx’

  I snap the clam cell shut and eye my make-up bag, grab it, and head over to the bathroom.

&
nbsp; After I’m showered, my hair has dried into its normal springy ringlet style, and my make-up has been applied, I head back into my room and open my closet doors. I stare at its contents willing inspiration to strike and it does … light soft denim jeans, pink long sleeved cotton shirt, and a white knitted poncho, not the most stylish of outfits and the poncho certainly doesn’t flatter my curves, but at least I’ll be snug. I turn to my backpack, also not stylish with its supple, smooth brown leather but I have no idea where I’ll be going so I need to take certain supplies. I pack my cell, wallet, cream blanket I was given by Kayla for my birthday, and sleeping bag. I also add my make-up bag, a hairbrush, and some hair ties, as I’m on my way downstairs, ready for Mollie to come pick me up. I ponder about shoes for a moment before steering away from a pair of black stiletto pumps and selecting my pair of old, beaten up, pink converse … I add trainers to my backpack just in case too, having no idea what the night may hold. Walking into the living room, I am unpleasantly surprised to find Carl is back from his fishing trip. Thankfully he is snoozing in the armchair, his feet up on the coffee table, beer belly rising and falling like the Swiss Alps. I back out of the room slowly, as though trying to escape the lair of a sleeping ogre and progress forward into the kitchen, where mom is sitting feeding Kayla dinner.

  “Oh, you look nice.” She compliments. “Want me to fix you something?”

  “Nah, I’ll grab something at Mollie’s.” I lie, knowing full well I’m not actually going to Mollie’s. My mom’s eyes track to my backpack.

  “Why do you have your sleeping bag? Doesn’t Mollie have a futon?” She asks raising one eyebrow. I stutter mind racing, searching for a lie.

  “We … uh, are going to sleep in her back yard, it’s the full moon tonight and it’s going to be the biggest and brightest we’ve seen in a century.” I pull the twisted truth back from an article I saw mentioned on a social networking site earlier this week. My mom’s mouth twists and her eyes have the shadow of something I can’t quite recognise behind a vacant glaze for a moment before she returns to her normal self, exhaling. I worry she knows I’m lying, but instead of questioning me she lets it go and smiles superficially. I hear the familiar honk of Mollie’s mom’s horn and before I rotate to leave, she grabs my hand, pulling it onto the table.

  “You will be careful, won’t you Callie?” She stares so intensely into my eyes that I’m sure she wants me to crack and tell her I, in fact, have no idea where I’m going. But I don’t. Instead I nod.

  “Sure, it’s just Mollie’s house, jeez don’t worry so much.” She releases my hand hesitantly and I turn on my heel, waving goodbye to Kayla and leaving out the white front door.

  Mollie is waiting in her Mom’s black SUV and honks the horn once as she sees me approaching through the rows of petunias that line my front garden path.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!” I mutter to myself, feigning irritation as I smile at her with a cocked brow and give a slight wave. I get into the car and chuck my backpack onto the floor, leaning back into the black leather seat.

  “Hey! Have a good birthday so far?” Mollie asks as I latch my seatbelt into the buckle on my left.

  “Yeah, it was good, thanks. How was your day?” I ask, looking at my house in the side mirror as we pull away from the curb.

  “Good, looking at options for college online mainly. I still can’t decide what I want to major in.” Mollie admits, not looking at me, her brown eyes settled on the road in front of her.

  “Well, I’m still waiting to hear from Brown.” I say, thinking once more about the terrifying woman in the horn-rimmed spectacles at my interview.

  “I bet you’re nervous.” Mollie replies seriously.

  “Yeah. I hate that they make you wait to find out if you’re moving your life all the way across the country.” I smile to myself at the thought.

  “I don’t think I could move so far away.” She sighs.

  “So you’re thinking SDSU?” I ask her as she turns, allowing the steering wheel to fall through her hands clockwise.

  “Yeah, it seems like a good school. They have a diverse programme, plus I can still be close to home.” She says.

  “But you don’t know what you want to major in?” I ask her curiously, as I notice we are driving away from the heart of San Diego.

  “No. I’m stuck between art history and British literature.” She enlightens me and I smile, they both sound so intellectual.

  “Well, it’s only ever been marine biology for me.” I say proudly. I had never made a big deal about getting an interview at Brown to my mom, but I can’t help but feel smug when Mollie and Manda still had to apply to their college choices. I feel relieved that I’d gone for early admission after all the initial stress.

  “Yeah, I think it’s cool you want to save dolphins and stuff.”

  “You know it’s more than just dolphins.” I laugh at her over simplification of a world that is so mysterious and unknown.

  “I always hated science. You know I’m struggling to pass chemistry.” Mollie whines and I laugh. Mollie has never struggled to pass anything in her whole life.

  “So are you going to tell me where we are going?” I ask her as she smiles to herself, smugness enveloping her lips.

  “Nope.” Her head turns from the road as something catches her fancy.

  “Are you going to tell me where you got that hunk of rock around your neck?” She asks me in retort to my prying. I look down at the teardrop diamond lying on top of my poncho.

  “Nope.” I tease her, poking my tongue out with a giggle.

  “Oh come on? Some mysterious admirer?”

  “I wish … no it’s from my mom.” I admit.

  “She has good taste. And do you?” Mollie asks, incredulous as she turns once again, but this time onto a smaller coastal road.

  “Do I what?”

  “Wish you had an admirer.”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes, I suppose.”

  “You could have fooled me chick.” Mollie laughs and I see slight jealousy behind her eyes.

  “You know just because I don’t want Daryl doesn’t mean I’m frigid.” I snap slightly as she turns to look at me with a serious expression.

  “I know. You’re just … sometimes I wonder if I know you at all.”

  “I’m sorry.” I bite my lip guiltily, feeling bad for snapping at an observation which was probably dead on.

  “Don’t be sorry. It’s just who you are. You’re different from the rest of us. You’ve been through stuff. I mean Chloe freaks out if her hair goes curly in the humidity or if her shoes don’t match her outfit. That stuff, it doesn’t seem like a big problem to you, because you’ve seen actual problems that matter I guess.” Mollie says this while her eyes are kept on the road, not daring to look me in the eye. I know she speaks the truth. I’m grateful.

  “Thank you” is all I can manage.

  “For?” she looks across at me, her cheeks flushed with the intensity of the conversation mixed with the heat.

  “Knowing me better than anybody.” I smile at her and place a hand on her shoulder, squeezing.

  “Just …” She begins but stops as she pulls the car to a halt.

  “What?” I ask peering around as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to me.

  “Don’t forget to be a teenager Callie. You won’t be young forever.” I nod and look back at her.

  “I know, some people have the cheek to call me old you know.” I tease her but pull her into a hug across the car smiling to myself.

  “Hey! Birthday girl! Not so fast! Put this on.” Mollie slings a sleeping mask to me, which she retrieves from the depths of her Ralph Lauren purse as I attempt to exit the vehicle. I sigh as I catch it haphazardly, they couldn’t just make this easy for me. As I slide the blindfold over my eyes, the soft silk feels cool against my skin. After a few moments, I hear the car door open and Mollie grabs my hand, guiding me out of the car. I can hear jokes being made at my expense and I realise that Manda and Chlo
e are here too.

  “Hi guys, stop laughing at me please!” I shout and wave, oblivious to which direction they are in.

  “Jeez Callie, stop shouting, we’re right behind you!” Chloe laughs patting me on the shoulder.

  “Talk about the blind leading the blind.” I mutter as Manda chortles behind me and the others join in. Of course they all find me being visually impaired hilarious. I feel the wind whipping around me and then I notice the smell, so familiar and tangy. It hits me.

  “Hey, are we at the beach?” I guess, only to have my question answered as my friends turn me round a corner. A grin spreads across my face as the ‘swoosh’ of the waves sloshing against the shore meets my ears.

  “There’s more.” Chloe whispers and my anticipation builds as we walk for a few more minutes and I begin to feel myself sweat: why did I wear something so snug? In the middle of summer? In San Diego? I ponder this as I swelter until the girls come to a stop, halting me with them.

  “Okay, stand still.” Mollie commands and I feel her fumbling hands release the blindfold from my eyes. The scene in front of me is sublime, the orange sphere of the sun hanging low in the sky shooting oranges, pinks, and corals across the dimming blue horizon. The sand is white, pure, and empty, no person but us stands for miles and the breeze swirls the smell of sea salt in the air around us, whipping hair from our faces. I look back over my shoulder and see the condos not far across the road behind us on the top of the cliff. I think I know where we are and if I’m right it’s a pricey neighbourhood.

  “Not the best part.” Chloe announces once again as she takes a few steps forward off the concrete path and onto the sand. Manda, Mollie, and I cock our heads, a little confused. I can tell that Mollie and Manda have as little clue regarding her impending announcement as I do.