Текст книги "In Pieces"

Автор книги: Gia Riley

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“DUDE, KINSLEY’S FRIEND is smokin’ hot. Think she has a date for the dance yet?”

I already know who he’s talking about before I even look toward the entrance where my Sunny– girl is walking into the cafeteria with Becca. They’re deep in conversation, and after the morning I put Kinsley through, it wouldn’t surprise me if they were talking about me.

“Becca’s a cool girl. You interested?”

“I might be. I need a date and I sure as hell don’t want to get stuck with Mandi. It’s bad enough I had to give her my jersey this morning when she was crying on my shoulder about not having yours.”

My best friend can be a complete and total pain in the ass, but he’s also had my back for as long as I can remember. It the reason why I can overlook most of the stupid stuff he does on a daily basis—including giving his jersey to Mandi. “You didn’t have to give it to her, you know.

“I know, I was going to give it to Becca the same time I asked her to the dance, but then Mandi came along and she scares me, man. She jacked up my plans.”

I can’t help but laugh at him, mostly because he’s right. Saying no to Mandi is like risking getting your balls permanently shoved down your throat for the rest of senior year. “You still have time to ask her¸ and you better. I already asked Kinsley.”

“It’s not weird? Best friends with best friends?”

“Na, fair warning though. Wyatt had a thing for Becca. Rumor has it he almost failed his math class just so she’d keep tutoring him.”

Jake looks impressed, if not slightly annoyed. “Got to give him credit, I was never his biggest fan on the field, but it takes guts to jeopardize your GPA and your football career for a girl. Doesn’t change what I’m about to do though.”

If there’s someone who could compete with Wyatt for the jackass of the year award, it would be Jake. “Didn’t think it would.”

“I’m just sayin’, if you can get the girl, I can get the girl. I don’t even need you to wish me luck, that’s how confident I am. I’ll be back.”

I laugh at him mostly because Becca’s going to say, yes. It’s not like he even has to worry, but I still like putting the fear of Wyatt in him. He doesn’t seem worried as he runs across the cafeteria, cocky as he accused Wyatt of being, and slides on his knees until he comes to a screeching halt right in front of Becca. He stays on bended knee, taking her hand in his until she’s nodding her head that she’ll go to the dance with him. He stands up, swings her around in a circle, and then jogs back to the table leaving her completely dazed. It’s typical Jake behavior.

“Talk about a grand gesture,” I tell him when he gets back to the table.

“Nailed it didn’t I? Wyatt can suck it.”

“It was pretty badass.”

Kinsley scans the room, searching for me, but doesn’t spot me right away. I wave my hand in the air, whistling for her attention. She ducks her head and shuffles over to me, not wanting the spotlight that’s currently shining on her. I’m trying to work on a softer approach, but sometimes I forget. The girls I’ve dated in the past never cared. They’re usually louder than I am. Then again, they aren’t Kinsley. That’s why I like her so much—because she isn’t like them at all.

“Guys move your asses in a little. Let my girl through.”

“Thank you,” she says, when she finally gets to the seat I saved her. Once she’s settled, she barely looks at me, instead pushing her lettuce around on her plate the same way she did yesterday. Something’s bothering her.

Trying to take my own advice, I lean close to her, so nobody else hears me talking. “What happened?”

“I snagged your jersey on my locker. It’s not a big tear, and I can fix it up to look like new. I’m really sorry.”

She’s so nervous about jacking up my jersey, but I couldn’t care less. There’s a chance I’ll do worse to it before she wears it again, anyway. Her rambling’s cute though. She treats it like her prized possession. “I’d still like you if you ripped it to shreds, don’t worry about it.”

That earns me a glare from Mandi. She got her red lipstick on one of my jerseys last year. I remember yelling at her for it.

“Is she going to sit here every day?” Mandi asks. “I didn’t realize this table was accepting the needy.” She then glances at Becca and adds, “Or the desperate.” For added effect, she makes sure to fiddle with Jake’s jersey, rubbing it under Becca’s nose.

Becca’s mouth drops open in shock. It’s bad enough Mandi’s flaunting Jake’s jersey in front of her, and now she’s insulting the both of them, publically. I almost jump in, but when Becca’s fired up, there’s no stopping her. She’s the same firecracker she was back when we were ten.

She slams her fork down on her tray. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’d rather be known as anything other than the bitch you are. And for the record, Jake gave you that jersey today because he felt sorry for you.”

Mandi scoffs. “Why would he feel sorry for me? He practically begged me to wear it. It happens all the time though.”

“You’re so full of it. He wanted me to wear it, but you were too busy acting like a two-year-old over Rhett giving his to Kinsley. So, if there are any charity cases or desperate people at this table, it would be you.” Becca stands up with her half eaten lunch still on her tray, her mouth set in a firm line, and storms out of the cafeteria.

Jake stays in his seat, but gives a big, “hoorah,” to Becca’s work. He even points at her as she walks away and says, “That chick is badass.”

I can’t argue with him there. Although my girl doesn’t look as amused as Jake and I do. I can tell she’s worried for her friend on top of her own disappointment. Mandi knows how to ruin a lunch period.

“I should go make sure she’s okay,” Kinsley says, not even waiting for me to respond before she gets up and leaves.

I’m pissed Mandi ruined the little bit of time we have together, but confronting her again won’t do any good. It will only piss her off more and the last thing I want to do is make Kinsley’s life any harder than it already is.

Neither Becca or Kinsley are in the hallway outside the cafeteria, so I peek my head around the corner of the girls’ bathroom, and I can hear them talking.

“I don’t know how you deal with this stuff every day of your life, Kinsley. It sucks and it hurts.”

“After a while you start to get used to it. Eventually, it hurts less and you become numb.”

“I don’t want Jake to know I was crying.”

“I won’t tell anyone. Go find him. You’ll feel better after you talk to him.”

“He’s really hot and he might even like me, but Kin, I don’t want you to think I’m disrespecting Wyatt’s feelings for me by talking to Jake. I know Wyatt likes me, and I don’t want to put you in a bad place with your brother.”

“I get it. Wyatt’s long distance. It would make being together hard. You don’t have to explain it to me.”

“Thanks. Oh, and Kin. I’m happy for you. If anyone deserves Rhett, it’s you.”

Becca almost runs into me on her way out, the glassiness of her eyes still noticeable from her tears. Jake will know she was crying even if she doesn’t want him to. I stop her before she leaves, hoping to ease some of her worries. “Your comeback was killer, Becca. Don’t sweat it.”

She gives me a warm smile—the first one I’ve gotten since we were ten. “Thanks. Kinsley’s inside. It’s empty.”

I never doubted her support, but I’m glad I have it. Unfortunately, Kinsley isn’t as nonchalant about me being where I’m not supposed to, gasping the farther I walk inside the girls’ bathroom. “What are you doing? You can’t be in in here.”

I point to the wall, shaking my head in disgust. “This says to call me for a good time. That’s not even my number. It’s false advertising.”

She rewards me with her gorgeous smile, forgetting about the added stress I’m giving her. “I’m glad it’s the wrong number.”

“You mean that?”

“Yes. I don’t want other girls finding out how good a time you are, or even calling you.”

I take her heavy bag off her shoulder, holding it for her while we talk. “I’m a really good time, ya know.”

She rolls her eyes at my cheesy flirtation, but she’s not really mad. Not at all. She even looks a little curious when she says, “I can only imagine.”

“God, I’d love to show you.” I move closer, wrapping my arms around her waist. My lips are only a few centimeters from her neck, and I know she can feel my breath on her skin when I inhale the sweet smell of her hair. “You smell like coconuts. It makes me want to go to the beach instead of algebra.”

“You and me both.”

I would be content holding her in my arms for the rest of the afternoon, but the bell ending our lunch period ruins our cozy moment. This has been the closest I’ve been to her since we shared our first kiss. I want nothing more than to kiss her again, but I get the impression she’s not quite ready for that yet. I’m hoping she tells me why after school when I have her all to myself.

“You okay?”

“She cried. Becca doesn’t cry much—she’s usually tough as nails.”

“Mandi’s jealous—that’s why she’s acting the way she is.”

Kinsley turns around in my arms, giving me a sad smile. “It’s not easy being replaced. I get it, but I don’t want to fight with her every day. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ll talk to her again. I don’t want to lose you, Sunny.”

“It’s been a crazy couple of days, but I don’t want to lose you either.”

“No matter what, that’s your spot next to me. Becca, too. Okay? And if you ever need anything and I’m not around, you can trust Jake. He’s loud and a little bit over the top, but he’s a good person.”

“I like him—he’s good for Becca.”

“Even though Wyatt could be, too?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I can’t get involved in that saga. Whether they end up together or not, it’s their call. I just want them both to be happy.”

I tap the tip of her nose with my finger. “And I just want you to be happy. I’ll see you in a bit, my Sunny-girl.”

“See ya.”

I turn around one last time, tossing the black marker I still have in my pocket from art class at her. I point to my name and number on the wall. “Scratch that out before you go. This good time is reserved for you.”

THE LAST HALF hour before the bell rings, every Friday afternoon, the pep band walks every inch of the hallways, pounding out their school spirit in the form of music. The starters from the team join the band as they run through a medley of upbeat songs sure to put the entire student body in the mood for a big win.

Most of the time, I block out all the noise when I’m on the field, focusing solely on the play calls and nothing else. But this is what gets me in the right mindset to kick some ass on the field. I could go out there right now and run a mile without getting winded—that’s how amped up I already am. There’s always something a little extra special about the home opener—especially considering this is the last one I’ll have at Central.

Led by the cheerleaders, students from every classroom clog the doorways, cheering as we walk by. I spot Kinsley in her study hall, waving to me. I’m able to cut around a few of the guys to grab her hand, and pull her out of her room toward the center of the pack.

“Rhett!” She yells over the sound of the drums pounding wildly in front of us. “I have to go back. I’ll get in trouble.”

I don’t let go of her. I simply smile, and spin her around in a circle while we dance to the beat of the music. “Don’t worry so much, Sunny. Just live it up. You feel that?”

She shakes her head. “Feel what?”

“We’re going to kill them tonight, and my girl’s going to see every second of it. Doesn’t get much better than that.”

“You’re crazy!” she says, with wild eyes, but she feels it too. I know she does.

These are the moments I never want to forget. When we’re in our fifties, working the daily grind, day in and day out, I want to look back on high school with a smile knowing these years were as good as it gets. That I didn’t waste a single second of the best years of my life.

Hoisting Kinsley on my shoulders, she yelps in surprise, but squeezes her thighs around my neck. I can feel her laughter as she bounces on top of me, enjoying being on top of the world.

It’s only after the final song ends that I lower her to the ground. “What’d you think?”

“That was incredible!”

My smile stretches wild from her excitement. “I gotta get you back to class before your teacher figures out you’re missing. Come on.”

“I’m going to get a detention, aren’t I?”

“No, I’ll make sure it’s cool. Mr. Thomas is a huge sports fan. He’ll understand.” We have to fight against the flow of traffic the entire way back to her study hall, but I don’t even have to bargain with the teacher considering Mr. Thomas is so busy explaining the answer to a problem, he doesn’t even see Kinsley slip back into the room. I can thank Shannon for being one of the few students to care about calculus on a Friday afternoon.

Since I don’t have to get back to my own study hall, I sit on the floor next to Kinsley’s locker. I’m flicking through my texts when Becca nudges me with her foot. “You again,” she says with a smile on her face. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”

“Why does everyone keep doubting me? She’s an awesome girl. I can’t be the only one to notice.”

“Honestly, I’m glad it’s you, Rhett. I trust you. We haven’t been friends for a really long time, but you’ll take care of her. That much I’m sure of.”

I pull Becca into a hug, making sure to mess up her hair, and piss her off. “I knew you didn’t still hate me. I promise I’ll never make you eat another stitch of dirt as long as I live.”

Becca gives me the stink eye, pulling away from me as she fixes her messed up curls.

Kinsley pauses before sliding in between the two of us to get to her locker. “What was that all about?” she asks, curiously.

Becca gives me an evil grin. “Rhett was just telling me how hard he cried while watching The Notebook last night.”

I give her credit, she’s quick on her feet. Between her comeback at lunch, and this one, I realize how much I’m going to enjoy getting to know Becca again. In only two days I’ve managed to repair a friendship and gain the girl I’ve always wanted. I’d say week one was a success.

Becca’s finished at her locker, but Kinsley’s still struggling to get into hers. “Let me help, what’s the combination?”

She looks up at me with her big brown eyes, thankful for the help, though a little embarrassed she couldn’t get it open on her own. “Um, it’s four, twenty-two, nine, eleven.”

I twist the lock back and forth as she rattles off each number, popping it open on the first try. “There you go, Sunny.”

“Thanks.”

“Sunny?” Becca asks. “Where’d that one come from?”

“Rhett’s picture of me.”

I wrap her in another hug. “And she smells like coconut and sunshine”.

Becca snickers. “You two have it so much worse than I thought.”

Kinsley finishes with her locker, and shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t mind the nickname. I spent a year of my life being called much worse.”

“What did they call you?”

Kinsley glares at Becca before she has a chance to open her mouth. “Don’t you even tell him, Becca,” she warns with a stern look. She’s pissed and it’s kinda cute.

“Now I have to know,” I tell them. “Who do I have to beat up for picking on you.”

My girl remains silent, so I look to Becca for an answer. “They called her flash,” she tells me, as she breaks out into a fit of hysterics.

“Why?”

Kinsley storms off. “Thanks a lot, Becca,” she murmurs.

Becca throws her hands in the air. “Oh, come on, Kinsley. It’s been like four years. Nobody even remembers anymore.”

“What does flash even mean?”

“She’s going to kill me anyway, so I might as well just tell you. On second thought, I’ll let her decide how much she tells you. To make a long story short, she forgot her underwear this one time and flashed a bunch of people.”

I tip my head back, laughing. “That’s not so bad, but I’m definitely getting her to give me the details. That’s for the info, Becca.” I hurry to catch up to Kinsley, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “Don’t worry, Sunny. I go commando sometimes, too. It’s very refreshing.”

She gasps, her hand covering her mouth before she instinctively pushes me away from her. “I can’t believe she told you! I’m going to kill her.”

Becca finally catches up, but she doesn’t stop to listen to the earful Kinsley has for her. “Text me about the game. I’ll pick you up.”

Aggravated with the both of us, Kinsley stomps off toward my truck. Only she’s going in the wrong direction. “Other way, killer,” I tell her. I make sure I stay a few steps behind her, hoping she cools down by the time I get her all to myself. We have a lot to talk about, and I don’t waste any time on stuff that doesn’t really matter.

Just as she climbs into the passenger seat, I stand next to her, helping her click her seatbelt into place. With my best puppy dog face, I reach for her hand. “Don’t be mad, Sunny.”

She tries hard not to laugh at me, but I can see a crack of a smile forming on her lips. “Will you please get in the car,” she pleads, but even I know she’s not actually mad anymore.

She’s still quiet when I pull out of the parking place. This isn’t how I wanted today to go. “Are we good? Or do I need to tease you some more to get you to talk to me?”

All at once, it comes pouring out of her. “So I forgot to wear my cover up. Big deal!” As animated as she’s ever been, her hands fly into the air as she explains the situation that earned her the title of flash. “I was a cheerleader in middle school for a hot minute. Basically until I met Mandi. Anyway, we wore maroon granny panties over our regular underwear to cover us up. It’s a safeguard so when we did jumps, and our skirts flew up, there wasn’t a show. Only I forgot to put mine on one day, and it just so happened to be the very same day I wore my first thong. I bared my naked ass cheeks to the entire gymnasium. All while they chanted, “flash, over and over again. I even chanted along with them at first because I thought they were talking about one of the guys on the court.”

It’s actually a lot worse than I thought it would be. I can only imagine how mortified she must have been once she realized what was happening. “I’m a little bit sorry I missed it. Does that make me a creep?”

She covers her face with her hands, sliding down in the seat like she’d rather melt into the floor boards than sit next to me. “I’m really glad you weren’t there. It’s bad enough half the student body was.”

I reach over and squeeze the spot on her thigh, right above her knee, that makes her squirm. “You’re feisty when you’re mad, you know.”

“My brother and sister would agree. I should probably apologize for yelling at Becca.”

“It’s actually cute. And I wouldn’t say that about most chicks. Usually, it’s enough to drive me nuts, but not you, Sunny. You make me hot.”

“Ohmigod. You did not just say that.” She sits back up, holding onto the dash she’s laughing so hard. “Wait, you were supposed to turn down Sycamore Street to get to my house.”

I glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s going back to my house. We need to talk and there’s something I want to show her. “I thought we could hang at my house.”

“Oh, I don’t know why I assumed we were going to mine,” she says, quietly.

I pull into my driveway, and help her out of the truck. She hops down, hesitantly. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I want you here.”

Holding her hand, I take her through the front door, even though we never use it, but she’s a guest and should be treated like one. First, her eyes take in the staircase that wraps around the foyer and then they end up on the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above our heads. It’s always reminded me of something that belongs in a Las Vegas hotel instead of inside a house.

“This is really nice, Rhett.”

“Thanks. My mom’s an interior designer. She redecorates constantly. Sometimes the walls change colors while I’m at school. Once I thought I walked into the neighbor’s house by mistake.”

She follows me into the kitchen where mom has a plate of chocolate chip cookies waiting along with a note. “Want a Coke?”

“Sure.”

I set a can in front of her, and when she picks it up, I notice the slight tremble to her hand. “Why are you nervous, Sunny?” My parents are at the club until the game starts. It’s just us.”

“Sorry, I’ve never done this before. Other than Becca’s house, I don’t really go many places.”

I nod my head toward the living room. “Come on, then, I want to show you something in my room.”

“Your room?” she questions. “Am I allowed up there?”

I chuckle, she’s adorable sometimes. “Yes, you’re allowed in my room.”

She follows me up the rest of the stairs, and I lead her to the last door on the left. “This is me.”

With my hand still on the knob, I wait for her to go in first. She shuffles in and stares at my bed in the center of the room. “That’s where you sleep?”

My bed is round and looks more like a giant bird nest than an actual bed. That’s why it’s not shoved up against one of the walls. “Yup.” The only pictures I bothered to hang on the wall are black and white photographs I took myself. There’s a desk in front of the window with a built in bookshelf next to it and that’s about it. It’s minimalistic to say the least.

She looks over her shoulder after she takes it all in. “This is really cool. Did you design it?”

I kick my shoes off and flop down on my bed. Patting the spot next to me, I invite her to sit down next to me. “My mom likes to decorate. She gave me a catalog to look though for the tenth time in a year, insisting I needed to fix up my boring room. I was happy with the way it was, but if she wanted a challenge, I’d give her one. I thought I was pushing my luck when I picked out some expensive, outrageous shit she would never go for. Turns out, she actually liked it. So, now I have this palace. It’s growing on me, but I’m not sure it would have been my first choice. The bed even spins.”

“I would kill to have that kind of design freedom. I could think of a million things to do to every room in the apartment, especially to Carson’s room. He’s a nice guy, but his tastes are so boring.”

I’m not sure I like the fact that she’s been inside Carson’s room to know what his belongings look like. But I squash that fun fact and concentrate of the two of us. “I bet you’re really good at design. I saw how content you were when I took your picture.”

“I love it,” she says.

It’s really quiet, so I grab the remote lying next to my pillow and press a button. To anyone, the picture on the wall looks like a black and white piece of art. But once the button’s pressed, it changes from art to a flat screen TV. Jeopardy lights up the screen, my favorite game show of all time. If only Turd Ferguson was on today.

“You watch Jeopardy?”

I pretend to be offended. “I’m not just a pretty face, Kinsley.”

This time, we’re both laughing. “Okay, sorry,” she says.

“I’m just messing with you, but how about a friendly wager.”

“What kind of wager?”

I come up with a ridiculous game on the fly, but I get the impression my girl needs an ice breaker—something to help her relax while she’s with me. “For each question I get right, I get to kiss you.”

“And what about the ones I get right? Do I have to kiss you?”

“You don’t have to, but I hope you want to.”

She thinks about it for a second, even tilting her head to the side the slightest bit like she’s trying to figure out if there’s a catch. Eventually, she says, “So either way, we’re kissing.”

“Yeah, unless we both get the question wrong—then we suffer. But it’s Teen Jeopardy week, so we should get some right at least. I mean, I’m pretty smart, but you’ll have to try hard to keep up with me,” I joke, playfully.

“Okay, you’re on, Rhett.”

I tug on her arm a little bit. “Come over here.”

She kicks her shoes off and climbs across the mattress until she’s resting in the crook of my arm. She fits next to me like she’s always belonged there, and I realize this game isn’t going to be as easy as I thought it was. Now that she’s close, all I want to do is scoop her up and hold her, forgetting about the game entirely.

But as soon as the first question flashes on the screen, it’s game on. “What famous document begins: "When in the course of human events. .?”

I yell out, “The Declaration of Independence!”

“Wrong!” She yells, even though it’s the right answer.

“Why is it wrong?”

“You forgot to say, “what is” before your answer. No kiss for you.”

“Okay, fine, but give me a chance to redeem myself. I’m not a quitter.”

The next question is up. “What Alabama city saw state troopers attack Civil Rights marchers on Edmund Pettis Bridge?”

“What is Selma!” I yell with excitement. I got it right and remembered her rule. “I owe you a kiss, Kinsley West.”

She pushes up on her elbow so she’s looking down at me, and for a minute, I think she’s about to cash in without waiting for me to kiss her first. “Now?”

“Now’s good.” I cup her cheek in my hand, not even caring we’re missing questions. I have what I want already. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever kissed, Sunny.” My lips inch closer to hers, but right before I have her, she turns her head, giving me her cheek instead.

“I’m sorry,” she says, hopping off my bed, and reaching for her sneakers. “I should go.”

“What’s wrong? I wasn’t trying to pressure you. You know that, right?”

She concentrates on her shoe laces, not even looking at me when she speaks. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. I just can’t do this.”

Before I know what’s even happening, she’s running out of my bedroom toward the stairs. I’m hot on her heels for the simple fact that she can’t keep running away from me like this. Not until she explains why it keeps happening. “Talk to me, Sunny. What’s going on?”

She runs her fingers through my hair, both frustrated and angry, but I can’t figure out why. What did I do to make her so upset when we were fine a minute before? She doesn’t look like she wants me to touch her, but I do anyway, resting my hands on her shoulders. “Tell me, Sunny. I want to make this better.”

“I don’t want to run away from you, Rhett. I really don’t.”

I rub her back the way I did in class this morning. “Then don’t. Stay with me.”

“Can we sit down on the couch for a minute? I’m sorry.”

“We can go anywhere you want. I don’t want you to leave, but I don’t want you to be upset, either.”

“The couch is fine.”

I lead her over to the sectional, sitting her on my lap. “Start at the beginning and don’t say it’s nothing—because it’s definitely something.”

She nods her head, and I sigh in relief. I’m not sure I could take another rejection from her when I’m trying to show her how much I care about her.

“Yesterday in your car, that was my first time.” She pauses, her voice quivering as she says the words to me. “You were my first kiss, Rhett.”

I lean my head back against the couch, closing my eyes as I whisper to myself. “Shit.” Kinsley shifts on my lap, and I realize I need to say something to her. Something that isn’t a swear word. “You mean you’ve never done anything—like ever?”

My sweet girl shakes her head and I can see the moment she panics, the moment she assumes I’m not going to want a thing to do with her now that I know how inexperienced she is. She stands up, immediately pulling my jersey over her head and handing it back to me. “I’ll call Carson for a ride.”

Is she crazy? “Whoa, wait a minute. You’re not leaving.” I didn’t want Carson near her before, but now that she’s told me she’s as pure as they come, I don’t even want his name to fall from her lips.

She wrings her hands together, nervously. “You don’t want me to leave?”

“No, not at all. Sit down, please.” I hand my jersey back to her. “And put this back on. I still want you to wear it to the game.”

“Really?”

I wait for her to pull her head through the hole, and once it’s back where it belongs, I continue. “I had no idea, Kinsley. I assumed you were experienced. I mean, I was hoping you weren’t, but if I had known last night was your first kiss, it wouldn’t have happened in my truck.”

“Does everyone assume I’m a slut because I don’t have parents telling me what not to do?”

Laughing, I shake my head. She took what I said the wrong way. “No, Sunny. Nobody thinks that. I assumed it because I’m attracted to you, and I know a lot of guys in school are, too. I never thought I’d be the first one to kiss your lips.”

“Now you’re talking nonsense, Rhett.”

“You don’t see yourself the way I do, but trust me, I wouldn’t make it up, and I really wouldn’t want to be with you if you were a slut. I mean, flash was kind of a slut, but -.” She smacks me in the chest before I can continue. As hard as I try not to laugh, I can’t hold it in.

“She was slutty, wasn’t she. I still can’t believe I did that.”

“Shit happens, but let’s talk about this kiss.”

She groans like it’s a painful topic. Nothing about kissing Sunny will ever be painful. It only hurts when I can’t kiss her. “Do we have to?”

“We have to, Kinsley. I should have done so much better. Your first kiss should be so awesome you run home and write about it in your little, pink diary. The one with the tiny metal key you keep under your pillow.” Again, she laughs at me. I assumed all chicks had a diary. At least they always seem to in the movies.

“I don’t have a diary, Rhett. At least not since I was ten.”

“Well, even if you don’t, you should want to gossip about it—like girls do. Did you tell Becca we kissed?”

She looks down at her hands again, biting on her bottom lip. “Not really.”

“Because it wasn’t memorable. See, I gotta do better.”

“It was memorable, Rhett. I was just terrible at it, and didn’t want anyone to know I messed it up. That’s why I ran away. You caught me off guard, and then I panicked.”

She’s gone an entire day thinking she’s a terrible kisser. “You’re really serious right now? Kissing you was awesome, Sunny. Really fuckin’ awesome.”

“You don’t want to hurt my feelings, so you’re being nice.”

“Holding a door for you is nice. Carrying your backpack is nice, too. Nothing about kissing you is nice. It’s the best thing ever.” I inch my way toward her. She gets one warning this time. “I’m going to kiss you again, right now.”

I reach out for her porcelain skin, holding her face like it could shatter if I’m not careful. This kiss is already more intimate than our first. I’m not holding her so she can’t run away. I’m holding her because she deserves to be cherished.