Kiss and Break Up

by Ella Fields

  “I guess, yeah.” I wasn’t lying. I knew he was protective of me in his own weird, asshole-ish way, but I wasn’t sure it happened as much as Daphne was implying.

  Daphne and Willa shared similar smiles as Daphne murmured, “Well, I guess they are, or at least Byron is, done giving a crap what Dash Thane thinks.”

  After they left, I cleaned up and took my unopened album to my room.

  This non-date thing was confusing. Maybe Byron did just want to hang with me, and maybe that was okay. Or maybe not. Was hang code for something? I made a mental note to ask Daphne about it later.

  I would’ve screamed at the sight of the body splayed over my bed, the combat boots and leather jacket in a heap on the floor, but it was too common an occurrence to startle me.

  “You’re not bald.”

  I smirked, dodging last night’s pajamas on my bedroom floor. “Never said I was.”

  “You never said you weren’t either.” Dash set down the book he’d brought with him and pulled his thick, black framed reading glasses off.

  I put the album on my desk, then traipsed over to the bed and crawled over his legs, clad in their usual black denim, to sit against the wall by the window he’d crawled through.

  “It would’ve looked good on you.”

  I raised a brow at him. “Shut up.”

  He chewed on the arm of his glasses, narrowing his sea blue eyes on my face. “You look different.”

  Yawning, I mumbled, “Haircut, remember?”

  His golden blond hair was perfectly coiffed, pushed back one too many times and therefore permanently styled to stay off his face.

  That hair, his angular cheekbones, and the dimple that appeared when he smirked had many foolish girls looking past his vulgar actions and nasty vocabulary, intent on trying to tame the untamable.

  “Who would’ve thought getting that metal off your teeth would make you so brave?”

  “Don’t even start.”

  “Oh, I haven’t.” He sat up on his elbows and let his gaze travel over me. “I liked your long hair.”

  “And I like being able to walk into my bedroom naked after a shower, but I haven’t been able to do that for years.”

  He didn’t even crack a smile. “I’ve seen you naked.”

  “Before I had boobs, Dash.” I picked at the chipped pink polish on my nails.

  “I wouldn’t give a shit.”

  That deep, velvet-singed voice and those words grated. “I would.”

  He hung his glasses from the V of his white shirt. “What’s eating at you?”

  “Nothing.” I coughed, realizing too late I’d managed to mess up saying one word.

  “My, my,” he drawled. “You’re turning as pink as that ugly ass polish on your nails.”

  I said nothing and went to climb off the bed. Maybe if I got the vacuum out, he’d take that as his cue to leave. Though he never had before. Dash came and went when he wanted, living on no one else’s timeline but his own.

  “If you’re done with the insults for today …”

  “Sit down.”

  “What?” I almost yelled.

  He grabbed my wrist, pulling me back down onto the bed. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday. Speak.”

  “Speak?” An incredulous laugh burst free. “I’m not a freaking dog.”

  A thick brow rose. “I didn’t say you were. But I feel I do need to encourage you to use your words, which is fucking frustrating to say the least.”

  “Let’s play Blitz.”

  “Fuck Blitz.”

  Oh, shit. If that couldn’t even sway his attention, then there’d be no swaying at all.

  I slouched, shoving his feet away. “I ran into Byron from school yesterday after getting my hair done.”

  “In the physical sense? Elaborate.”

  “At the newsstand. He, um …” I blew out a breath that pushed some of my rogue curls aside. “He asked me to go to Wade’s party this weekend.”

  Silence blanketed the room; the buzzing insects outside the only sound.

  I looked over at Dash, my stomach flip flopping. We didn’t talk about boys. Ever. There usually wasn’t any need. Any crushes I’d had, I kept to myself or told Willa and Daphne.

  “How sweet,” he finally said, tone mocking. “And are you going to go to this party?”

  “I’m considering it,” I admitted, relieved he’d finally said something. “Daphne and Willa might come too.”

  “Good. They might be able to keep the filthy animal from trying to get into your pants.”

  Shocked, I swallowed a hard inhalation. “Filthy animal?”

  Dash sat up, his white shirt shifting over his tanned stomach, flashing a glimpse of the dark hair above his jeans. I looked away. Whenever I caught myself looking at him, a creeping feeling a lot like shame washed over me. Not only was he not my type—because he was horrible—but he was also like a brother to me.

  “Woods only wants one thing from you, Freckles. He’s on the rebound. So don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I bit my lip to curb the disappointment I felt threading inside.

  “Let’s play.” Dash switched my small TV on, then the Xbox, and returned to his spot on the bed, tossing me the second controller.

  I stared at it a moment while he logged on since he knew all my passwords and then picked it up.

  I didn’t want to play. I wanted to ask why boys were so confusing, but that would’ve been weird. “Don’t shoot me this time.”

  “It was an accident.”

  I tutted. “Sure, sure.”

  Dash

  “My heels are getting stuck in the dirt,” Mila whined.

  Jackson cranked his bike beside me, the sound thankfully drowning her out.

  He gave me a look that said, what was she even doing here?

  I shrugged, then jabbed a finger over my shoulder at Lars, who was sucking back a cigarette and fiddling with my two-stroke’s spokes after hitting a boulder the size of Mila’s melon-esque head.

  Lars was too poor to buy his own bike, so whenever we got the urge to ride, he used mine.

  He once had his own, a Honda older than my mom, but admitted he’d sold it to pay for school uniforms two years ago.

  Regardless, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t rip his shirt from his back if he fucked those wheels. They were worth more than the bike itself. Kind of stupid, but whatever.

  “Lars, did you invite the melon?”

  Lars flicked his ash to the packed dirt, looking back over the grass speckled hills to where Mila was stumbling.

  You could see my house through the trees if you squinted. Three acres of undeveloped land was all mine for the taking. Dad purchased it with the house, and he never failed to remind me that I should be outside riding the bikes that cost him a small fortune instead of playing video games. I didn’t take suggestions or reminders too well. So I guess you could say I didn’t take them at all. I rode when I wanted to and never when he pointed out that I should.

  “Shit.” Lars spat on the ground, then stubbed out his cigarette.

  I frowned, adjusting my gloves as he smashed down his helmet and threw his leg over the seat. A second later, he was tearing off into the orange smeared sunset.

  Jackson shook his head, his eyes laughing before he did the same.

  Halting some feet away, Mila watched them go, then looked at me with clear dismay. I shrugged, slapped my goggles on, then sprayed her with dirt as I raced off after them.

  We thundered over the jumps, clefts, and ditches we’d created after hours of patting, shoveling, and using the bulldozer Dad had bought me last Christmas.

  Twenty minutes later, near the edge of our property, we stopped by the small stream hidden behind a smattering of rocks and weeds.

  Lars pulled off his helmet, swiping back his sweat-soaked hair. “Do you think she’s gone?”

  “She’s probably still hobbling back to her car.” I set my helmet on my lap, then plucked out my
pack of cigarettes from my pants. They were squashed, as expected, but they’d do.

  Jackson leaned over his handle bars, his cheeks mottled as he pushed a loud burst of air past his lips. “What was she doing here?”

  We were in as good a shape as we could be for a bunch of idiots who drank, smoked, and took the odd drug here and there. But I didn’t care. I’d quit racing when I was fifteen and found more interesting things to do with my time. Things which, of course, involved my dick.

  Jackson still raced from time to time. Lars never did. Too costly to upkeep.

  Lars looked a little chagrined. “I might have said I was riding here today when she called me.”

  “You actually answered?” I scoffed. “Dipshit.”

  “I was half asleep when my phone rang.” He looked through the trees. “I thought she’d given up.”

  Jackson tutted. “You thought wrong. How long has it been since you dipped in that anyway?”

  “Right before school let out. At that huge bay party.”

  I laughed.

  Lars’s worn boots kicked at a sharp looking rock. “She wanted to meet up, and I said I’d be too busy riding to hang. Guess she didn’t take the hint.”

  I’d be concerned that she knew where I lived, but everyone knew where most people lived in this hellish town.

  Jackson pushed his hair back, sliding his helmet on. “The word no doesn’t exist in Mila Groove’s vocabulary.”

  “You’d know, you savage.” I drew in a deep inhale, coughing laughter as he flipped me off.

  “I never fucked her. That was Rave.”

  I pondered that, then decided I didn’t give a fuck.

  “Enough vag talk,” Lars said. “Wade’s having another party Friday. We in?”

  I felt my body pull taut as I remembered Peggy mentioning that Byron Woods had asked her to go. Though the guy had some nerve, I wasn’t worried. Peggy probably wouldn’t even go.

  I’d texted her this morning, telling her she should come over for a ride. It wasn’t something she did very often, but she usually made a point to during the summer. We were a few weeks shy of returning to school, and she’d yet to take me up on the offer. She couldn’t ride well, but she liked riding with me. At least, I thought she did.

  I wasn’t privy to what she was doing instead, and I didn’t really care to be. Probably scrapbooking, Instagramming, or thrift shopping. Maybe staring at her metal-free teeth in the mirror for hours on end.

  “Get up.”

  Peggy moaned and rolled over, peeling an eye open.

  “Freckles. You promised me.”

  “Promised what?” she said, but it came out slightly mumbled.

  “That you’d come riding with me.” My brows cinched. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Her tongue snuck out to glide between her lips, and she winced, then grabbed a pillow and shoved it over her face. “It kind of hurts, Dash.”

  Shit. I’d forgotten today was the day she was fixing some of the gaps between her teeth. I wasn’t even sure why she was bothering; her teeth were pretty much perfect as they were. But she’d been wanting them since sophomore year after seeing Daphne’s teeth slowly change into perfect pearls. Her words, not mine.

  I hadn’t needed them. Thank fuck. But even if I had, fuck that. No metal was getting near my mouth unless it was in the form of some chick’s piercing.

  She’d mentioned her dad was taking her, but time had either flown, or I was a forgetful ass. I was thinking a combination of both.

  “What’d they do? Saw your gums open?” I tried to make light of it to see if she’d laugh. I failed.

  She threw her middle finger up, making some grunting sound. “Go riding without me.”

  “I told the guys to scram because I know you don’t like them giving you shit.”

  She was cool with me giving her shit but not so much the rest of my friends.

  “In case you didn’t hear me the first time, the answer is no.” Her purple pillow muffled her voice.

  I walked over, climbed onto the edge of the bed, and snatched it off her face. “Show me.”

  Her gray eyes rounded. “No.”

  “Come on. Unless you’re going to have a change of heart and ply the suckers off, I’m going to see them eventually. Open up.”

  Her nose twitched, then she sighed and cringed as she opened her mouth, forcing a wide smile.

  The braces were an assortment of colors, ranging from blue, green, purple, and pink. “Huh,” I said. “Not as bad as I thought.”

  She tossed a pillow at me. “Get lost.”

  Grabbing it, I laughed and flopped down beside her. “What do they feel like?”

  She took a minute to think about it. “Like something’s constantly pulling at my teeth.”

  I snorted. “Duh.”

  She reached over and slapped me. I squeezed her hand before propping myself up on my elbow to grab the TV remote. “It shouldn’t feel weird for too long, right?”

  “It’s not supposed to, no.”

  I flicked through Netflix. “We’ll go riding this weekend, then. No ditching this time.”

  Peggy was silent for a moment. “What are you doing?”

  I settled back into the pillow, folding my arms behind my head. “Watching Inglorious Bastards.” It was one of our favorite movies.

  When I glanced over, I found her smiling. Her lips were shut, but she was still smiling. “Thanks.”

  I smirked, giving my attention back to the TV. “Shut up, metal mouth.”

  “… guess I’ll let you know,” Jackson said, pulling me out of my musings as he kick-started his bike. He’d yet to upgrade. He said it didn’t feel like a dirt bike when you could switch it on with a push of a button.

  I’d agreed until I tried it for myself. His loss was all I had to say.

  Lars scratched his head. “Dash?”

  Shoving my goggles and helmet back on, I pretended to ponder it. Even if Peggy didn’t, I needed to go. Byron needed a friendly little reminder not to play rebound with my best friend. “Sure, why not.”

  It wasn’t personal.

  I was sure Peggy would meet a nice guy someday, and I’d be happy for her, but it wouldn’t be any of the assholes from Magnolia Cove Prep. So, until then, it was my job to make sure none of them fucked with her.

  Peggy

  The day before the party, I woke from an afternoon nap with my headphones and cords tangled around my face and half a dozen messages from Dash on the TV screen.

  I ignored them, untangled myself, then switched everything off.

  My new hair was a mess, an actual bird’s nest hanging every which way atop my head, so I decided to wash it for the first time since having it cut.

  Afterward, I cracked open the bathroom door, steam billowing out into the hall that smelled of Phil’s award-winning spaghetti.

  I wasn’t even joking. He often reminded us that when he was in college, working as a chef four nights a week, he’d entered the dish in a local contest and placed runner-up.

  My stomach grumbled. I toweled off my hair, tossed the towel into the hamper, missed and cursed as I went to pick it up so Mom didn’t have a fit, and then hustled to the kitchen.

  “Hey, Pegs.” Phil smiled, stirring the delicious scent in the pot on the small olive green stovetop.

  “Hi.” I glanced around, looking for Mom, then saw her head over the back of the couch in the living room. “How long until it’s ready?”

  “About ten.” His head tilted, and he scratched his short beard. “You get a haircut?”

  “Sure did.” I fluffed my wet locks.

  He chuckled. “Well, when you look less drowned, I’m sure it’s fantastic.”

  “Gee thanks.” I headed to the living room and parked my behind next to Mom, who was reading on her Kindle.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Hmm?” She didn’t remove her eyes from the screen.

  I tapped my hands over my bare legs, trying to figure out a way to tell he
r about the party tomorrow night. I’d been to a few before, but they were more like small gatherings and never with alcohol.

  Out with it, I told myself. Then I channeled Dash. Speak. “So, ah, there’s this party at Wade Eldin’s tomorrow night.”

  That did it.

  Her head snapped up, her lashes fluttering around gray-blue eyes so much like my own. “Wade Eldin?”

  “Yep.”

  “A party?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, you know, those shindigs where people make out, take drugs, and get drunk?”

  Her caramel hair fell over her shoulder as she laughed. “Well, sure. What time shall I take you? We can stop at the liquor store on the way.”

  I laughed too but then sobered. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I do want to go, and you trust me, right?”

  She heaved out a breath and set her Kindle aside before hiking a leg up and curling toward me. “I trust you. It’s the other misfits who attend these things who I don’t trust.” Her eyes widened. “Not that long ago, I was young and attended these things.”

  Moving my foot to the couch, I shoved my knee beneath my chin. “I’ll take one of the girls with me.”

  “Willa? I feel like she’s less likely to get you into any trouble.”

  I grinned. “Daphne isn’t some deviant.”

  “No, but she’s certainly more used to that crowd than you are.”

  “All the more reason to have her with me. She’ll know the score. What to do. What not to do.” I wasn’t sure if my argument would get me anything but a resounding no.

  So I was shocked when she said, “I need to work Saturday morning. I can’t be up late picking you up. And you are not getting a ride home from some random person.”

  “Okay.” I was about to suggest that Dash could pick me up, or that I could take her car and not drink, but she was already shaking her head.

  “There’s no way Dash would go to a party and not smoke or drink something, and you’re not taking my car. I don’t want you driving that late.”

  “Does some random person mean no Uber?” I sighed, feeling as if her reasons would be never ending. At that moment, I wished I was more rebellious. The type to sneak out windows and call an Uber, then sneak back in before anyone knew. I could’ve kicked myself. But Mom didn’t fall asleep until around ten most nights, and half the fun would be over by then.