Kissing Lessons

by Sophie Jordan

  Hayden asleep in his house, just a few rooms down from him . . .

  It was a fact that didn’t compute. With the exception of Hayden, the girls in his kitchen had been sleeping over since elementary school. Hayden was the piece that didn’t fit.

  His gaze fixed on her again. She was laughing at something Sanjana was saying—a full-bodied throw-back-your-head laugh that hit him right in the gut.

  He muttered a curse and felt Beau staring at him again, like he didn’t know what to make of him, and that was fair, because Nolan didn’t know what to make of himself either. Usually he was the calm one. Composed and collected.

  How many times had he dragged Beau out of a fight or some scrape? Or stepped in when some guy was being rude to a girl? Or wrestled the keys from some inebriated friend determined to drive home?

  He wasn’t the one to lose his cool or get overly affected by anything.

  But right now he felt . . . unsettled, and he didn’t like it.

  Beau leaned in. “Man, you’re totally staring at her.”

  He knew that. He couldn’t stop it though.

  What was she doing here?

  What did she have in common with a bunch of girls on the academic decathlon team?

  Nolan knew he was probably a douche thinking that . . . but there was something going on here, and no one was talking about the new addition to his sister’s friend group. Illogical or not, after their night together he felt as though Hayden could trust him enough to explain what was going on.

  Except she wasn’t here for him, and it’s not like he could just pull her aside and demand an explanation. Again. She was at his house for Emmaline and that annoyed him. He knew it was messed up to feel like he had some sort of bond with Hayden, but that didn’t make the feeling go away.

  Even as he looked across the kitchen at her, he couldn’t stop seeing her as he had seen her outside, not wrapped in a towel. Now he knew where her tattoo was.

  She’d mentioned having a tattoo that night at the party, and every now and then, the random thought of it would pop in his mind and he would wonder where it was . . . what it looked like.

  Now he knew.

  He kept seeing it low on her hip, that green twisting vine crawling over her skin and opening up into a bright flower in varying shades of pink. The artwork was stunning, practically leaping off her golden skin. It couldn’t be very old. The color was so vibrant.

  He gave himself a mental slap. He shouldn’t be thinking about her tattoo or her skin. He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat.

  The girls all chattered, oblivious to him and Beau as they continued to eat and raid the fridge. Now they were pulling ice cream from the freezer. He watched mutely as they made bowls of mint chocolate chip.

  “Hey, Nolan.” Hayden looked at him, daring to speak to him with the memory of their night together throbbing on the air between them. He could read the knowledge of it in the deep brown of her eyes. She was taking smug pleasure in the secret of that night, in the power she held over him.

  He stared, waiting for whatever she was going to say.

  Her bold eyes sparked as she lifted her spoon from her bowl and licked the ice cream clean off it in a long, savoring swipe of her tongue. “Want some ice cream?”

  All around her the girls froze.

  Conversation ground to a halt. It was deliberate. A provocative little display meant to rattle him. He knew that much about her. Knew she was enjoying herself. Enjoying his discomfort.

  Everyone picked up on it and watched him, waiting for his reaction.

  He knew it was meant to embarrass him. It worked.

  It also infuriated him, but he wouldn’t satisfy her by losing his composure.

  “No, thanks,” he said tightly. “I’m fine.”

  Although he didn’t feel fine.

  He wasn’t fine.

  The girls grabbed their ice cream and skipped off to Emmaline’s room, leaving the kitchen a disaster behind them. Mom was going to love that when she woke up in the morning.

  Beau released a heavy breath beside him. “What the hell was that?”

  Nolan shook his head. He didn’t know, but before this night was over, he would.

  He was going to find out.

  Lesson #17

  Sometimes being bad is very good.

  x Hayden x

  Hayden really should grab her stuff and go home.

  Everything about this felt wrong. She’d gone and done what she did in the kitchen with the spoon. She couldn’t help herself. Nolan Martin made her angry and she wanted to rattle him.

  He’d spent the night with her, but no one could know that. He’d made it clear that no one could find out. He made it clear that no one could know they were becoming friends and that stung.

  She’d liked him. Crazy as it seemed, she thought they had a connection. She could talk to him and he was willing to watch her favorite movies and listen to all her theories. She had a good time with a guy and it hadn’t involved making out. When he asked her to keep it quiet, he’d cheapened it. She hadn’t even kissed him, but she felt dirty.

  His dirty little secret.

  If that’s what she was to him, then she might as well act the part. So she had licked that ice cream off the spoon in the naughtiest way possible.

  Yeah, that had been wrong, and as much as she wanted to chalk it up as a lesson for Emmaline, she knew hanging out with these girls was wrong, too.

  It was the kind of thing other people did. It was the kind of thing normal girls did. Not Hayden. Hayden had never been a normal girl. She wasn’t one of them.

  Not since . . . well, not since ever.

  Girlhood was reserved for those who didn’t feel compelled to hide a bug-out bag in their closet. For girls who hadn’t had to fend for themselves since the age of four. For girls who didn’t know the phone numbers to all the local dive bars.

  Sometimes Hayden would have to hunt down her mom if she was desperate enough. If the fridge was empty. If the power went out. If some angry guy was pounding at the door and windows, yelling threats for her mother.

  Once one of Mom’s boyfriends forced his way into the house and tore the place apart, searching for her mother’s stash. She’d tried to stay out of his way. She’d tucked herself into a corner and cried when he ransacked her room. He’d used a knife to slash through her bedding. For a moment he had looked at her with such crazed eyes, she’d feared he would turn that knife on her. When he couldn’t find what he wanted, he’d destroyed the place even more out of retaliation.

  Hayden was nothing like these girls. She had nothing in common with them. She never would. Even once she secured a comfortable life for herself in Austin, she would never be like them. They’d be in college, living their lives of privilege, sharing stupid memes on social media and buying six-dollar coffees between classes. That would never be her.

  But she couldn’t bail on tonight. As much as she’d like to, as out of place as she felt in here, she had agreed to come. She had agreed to this night, crazy as it was. She’d made a deal, and she was here now.

  She’d come to this sleepover to give a “tutorial on seduction”—Emmaline’s words, not hers. The girl was a nerd, without a doubt, but delightful. She was also an expert at persuasion—and she promised Hayden seventy bucks.

  Money like that was nothing to sneeze at. If Mom forgot to get groceries this week, which was not uncommon, that kind of money would keep Hayden fed and still help with gas. There might even be a little left over to stash in her honeypot. She couldn’t walk away from an offer like that.

  To be honest, she was even having a little fun. But that was before she came face-to-face with Nolan Martin glowering at her in his kitchen.

  He was so damn pretty, with his dark hair and mesmerizing eyes and athletic build. She shouldn’t have done the thing with the ice cream and spoon, but he kept looking at her like she was some bad seed come to taint his precious home and corrupt his family. She couldn’t stop herself from te
asing him just a little.

  Now she was sitting in a circle with Emmaline and her friends, talking about boys and kissing and other intimate stuff like she was a normal teenage girl who did things like this all the time.

  She forced a smile and wondered if they knew.

  Did they know they had a fraud in their midst and were just too polite to reveal it? She tried to hide her discomfort and tune back into the conversation going on around her. Or conversations, rather. They had multiple going on at once.

  It was difficult to focus, however, knowing Nolan was right down the hall while they were talking about kissing.

  This jitteriness wasn’t like her. She wasn’t someone given to awkwardness or embarrassment. She’d have to care about what others thought. Her skin was too thick for that.

  “So, I don’t understand what to do with my tongue,” Sanjana was saying loudly, motioning to her mouth with Cheetos-dusted fingers. “The one time I got kissed, it was like the guy was pushing a slug in my mouth. I had to fight not to gag.”

  “Wasn’t that in ninth grade? With that guy from band who had the giant Adam’s apple?” Lia clutched her knees and laughed at the memory. “I forgot about that.”

  “Maybe I should hook up with him again?” Sanjana mused. “Maybe he’s better at it now?”

  “Doubtful,” Monica replied. “I think he’s been as celibate as you since then. You idiots would be just as lost as you were in ninth grade.”

  “Yeah,” Sanjana agreed. “Plus, he told everyone we made out . . . and that I played with his you-know-what.”

  Hayden resisted rolling her eyes. She had her work cut out for her if they couldn’t even say the word.

  “High school guys lying about how much action they actually get? You’re joking,” Hayden drolly intoned. She’d been the subject of more than one fictional account.

  Everyone laughed at her sarcasm.

  Except Emmaline. She watched solemnly and scribbled notes on her pad like there would be a test later.

  Hayden searched for a way to explain how to execute a good kiss, knowing that’s what she was here for. Despite the vibe of camaraderie, she was here to provide a service for them. “Kissing is like dancing. There’s a rhythm—a give-and-take between partners . . . at least when you’re good at it. But if your partner sucks, well, you’re doomed. There’s no hope.”

  “Alex definitely sucked.” Sanjana shook her head.

  “How do you get good at it?” Monica asked. If Hayden didn’t already know the girl was a science geek, she would have figured it out by the way she was studying her. Monica looked at everything like it was an equation to be solved. “Especially if, as you say, your partner is equally inexperienced. Something tells me the average adolescent boy doesn’t know what to do with his tongue.” She sniffed. “I’m thinking I’ll save my first kiss for college.”

  “Ha! You think some freshman at Stanford is going to come in with a wealth of kissing experience? I’m guessing you’re only going to spend time with other bioengineering geeks, and I bet they’ve spent the last four years of high school studying and not making out,” Sanjana scoffed. “If you were smart, you’d get some experience in now, and then when you get to college you’ll know what you’re doing and then you can teach those other geeks a thing or two.”

  “She’s right. It does takes practice to get good at it . . . as with anything. Sports, art,” Hayden agreed. “My first kiss—” She stopped and considered it. She hadn’t thought about that in years. Her first kiss wasn’t actually that bad. She had to be a rare case, though. She didn’t want to share that story with them and give them false hope.

  The quality of that first kiss probably had something to do with her partner.

  There were worse boys to share a first kiss with than Beau Sanders.

  To make matters even more remarkable, that kiss had been his first, too. Neither one had known what they were doing, but they had gotten good at it quickly. They’d learned together. It took about five minutes and then they were pretty decent at it. She chuckled at the memory. It had been a typical scorching Texas summer. She’d found enough change under the couch cushions to meet up with Beau and head to the corner store for a hot dog and soda. Neither one of them were eager to go home to their houses, so they went to the local park and clambered up into the playground set. No little kids were around. It was too hot. One minute she had been sucking down her Dr. Pepper and the next thing she knew, their lips were attached.

  “And how do we get practice?” Monica asked reasonably. “It’s not like we have guys lined up on standby to kiss us.”

  “Yeah,” Lia murmured. “We don’t have boyfriends.”

  Hayden shook off the memory and smiled at their naiveté. “You don’t need to have a boyfriend to get kissed . . . or give a kiss. You don’t need the shackles of a relationship for that.” She scanned each of their faces. Something told her they would be appalled at the number of kisses she’d shared outside of a relationship. Um, all her kisses, in fact, since she didn’t do relationships.

  They all stared at Hayden with blank looks and then looked at each other, equally stupefied.

  Hayden sighed. “You’re supposed to be the smartest girls in school.” At their bewildered expressions, she motioned to the door. “You’ve got Beau Sanders in the house. He’s one of the biggest players in school. The boy knows how to kiss, and I’m sure he’d oblige and showcase his skill.”

  They erupted into various reactions, but Monica was the most vocal. “I will not kiss Beau! Who knows where his mouth has been!”

  “Well, for starters, it’s been on me,” Hayden admitted to the group. “His mouth.” She felt compelled to clarify.

  Everyone gasped.

  “You kissed Beau?” Emmaline demanded.

  “Yeah. It was in eighth grade. And he was a good kisser back then, so it stands to reason he’s only improved his craft.”

  Lia shook her head almost violently. “I couldn’t. Not Beau! He’s too . . . too . . .”

  Monica crossed her arms over her chest. “You can count me out.”

  Sanjana, on the other hand, looked tempted. She glanced toward the door. “So . . . I just, what? Walk up to him and plant one on him?”

  “No one is kissing Beau,” Emmaline cut in. Her face burned bright red. “He’s my brother’s best friend . . . and like a brother to me. We’re not going there with him. That’s just too weird.”

  “Fine.” Hayden shrugged indifferently.

  “So what do we do for practice then?” Sanjana asked.

  The group fell silent and exchanged uncertain glances with each other.

  Hayden looked steadily at each of them, wondering why they were being so dense. Did she really have to spell it out? Had no one thought of it already?

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Hayden glanced around the circle.

  They all stared back at her, blinking, clearly not arriving at the conclusion she had reached.

  Hayden exhaled. “We practice on each other.”

  Silence met her announcement. The sound from Emmaline’s TV seemed really loud against it. Hayden wasn’t sure why it was even on. No one was paying attention to the rerun of Supernatural. Especially now, when everyone was gawking at her as if she just proposed they do something criminal. As if it wasn’t a totally reasonable proposition.

  She let out an exasperated sigh. They really needed to lighten up, and not just when it came to kissing. Although for this group that would be a start. A good start. The claws of their puritanical roots dug deep.

  “C’mon, guys. I’m not suggesting we knock off a bank.”

  “That would be just as extreme,” Monica sputtered.

  Lia’s lips fluttered, searching, unsuccessfully it seemed, for words.

  Emmaline found her voice. “Is that . . . done? I mean—” She glanced around at her friends.

  Hayden rolled her eyes. “I’m not suggesting an orgy. It’s fine. Don’t look so appalled. You’re all friends. What’s safer than
a little experimenting among those you trust?”

  “Huh. That kind of makes sense . . . ’cause it’s not as though I’ve met a guy I can trust,” Sanjana mused, clearly referencing Alex of ninth grade band. She glanced at all of them with a shrug. “I’m in.”

  “I’m in too,” Emmaline added.

  Lia nodded, her eyes so large they looked ready to bug out of her head.

  “Fine,” Monica agreed. “But if I say stop—”

  “No one is forcing or pressuring anyone into anything here,” Hayden quickly assured her. “If you don’t want to, then don’t.” She shrugged. “You asked for my help. That’s what I’m trying to do. Help.”

  “And we’re glad for it.” Emmaline nodded, looking encouragingly to each girl. “Let’s get started.”

  Lesson #18

  practice makes perfect.

  x Emmaline x

  They all brushed their teeth before settling down on the floor in a circle. There were lots of giggles as Hayden started explaining the fundamentals.

  Emmaline didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of this before.

  What was more nonthreatening than practicing kissing on your best friends? No judgment. No grossness. No worries that gossip of their practice session would be all over the school on Monday. Just safety among friends.

  “Sanjana? You want to go first?” Hayden asked.

  Sanjana adopted a serious expression and scooted to sit in front of Hayden.

  “Now we’ll begin with a basic kiss,” Hayden announced, looking at each of them. “Because if you can’t perform a simple kiss skillfully, you can forget about French-kissing with any finesse.”

  With her notepad clutched tightly in her hands, Emmaline leaned in close to observe.

  “What do I do with my hands?” Sanjana asked, lifting them up from her knees as though she wasn’t certain what to do with the appendages.

  “You have a lot of options. You can touch the other person on the shoulders or arms . . .” Hayden demonstrated, resting her hands first on Sanjana’s shoulders and then her forearms. “Or not touch at all.” She dropped them to her sides. “For a kiss this simple it’s too intimate and aggressive to reach up and touch or hold the other person’s face. You’re starting out here. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”