I shrug then take a sip of my soda. “All the hot guys we’ve made out with.”
Curiosity sparkles in his eyes. “Together?”
I swat his arm. “Don’t be gross.”
“You and Alena kissing …” he says through a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s not gross.”
“I never said it was just Alena and me kissing,” I quip. “I said it was Alena and me and hot guys kissing.”
He chews on his bottom lip, studying me with amusement. “When do I get my turn?”
“Oh, good god,” I groan, letting my head bob back against the headrest.
He chuckles, giving my knee a squeeze. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.” He skims his finger along the inside of my knee, and goosebumps sprout across my flesh. “I know you, Har. And I know you’ve never made out with anyone.”
Actually, that’s not true. I made out with a guy once, but I never told anyone about it. Not even Alena. Why? Well, mostly because I have no clue who I kissed, which sounds weird, but it’s the truth. It happened one night while I was at a party. The party Porter mentioned earlier. A party that Foster would flip out about if he knew I went, which is kind of why I did it. I was so sick and tired of going to parties with him and watching him flirt with girl after girl.
“Wait. Has that changed?” Foster suddenly asks.
I shake my head, not ready to divulge the night I made out with a total stranger because of some silly game. “Nah, I’m still a virgin kisser.”
When he visibly relaxes, I question why.
I may have grown a pair of lady balls and asked him, but another message from Alena comes through and distracts me.
Alena: You’re with Foster, right? And you’re planning on being with him all night?
Me: Yeah, I’m with him. Not sure how long we’re going to be out, though.
Alena: But you’re not wandering off by yourself? Or coming back to the party?
Me: Wasn’t planning on it. Why? What’s up?
Alena: I think some girl’s drink was drugged. One of her friends noticed something was off before she wandered off alone.
Holy shit …
Me: Did they take her to the hospital?
Alena: I think so.
Me: If they haven’t, you need to tell them to take her.
Alena: I’ll keep an eye out for them, but I’m pretty sure they did.
Me: Please tell me you’re leaving the party.
Alena: Yep, about to head out to my car now.
Me: Don’t drive if you’ve been drinking, especially if drinks are being drugged.
Alena: I didn’t drink tonight. My mouth was too preoccupied by something else.
Me: Lol, you’re so funny. But seriously, be careful, okay? Have someone walk you to your car.
Alena: Asking Jay right now. You stay safe, too. In fact, I’m going to text Foster and tell him to keep an extra close eye on you tonight. ;)
Me: Please don’t.
Alena: ;)
I groan. Good god, I love her to death, but that girl seriously drives me crazy sometimes.
“Everything okay?” Foster asks.
I shove my phone into my pocket. “Alena just texted me again and said some girl’s drink was drugged at the party.”
His eyes widen. “Holy shit. For reals?”
I nod. “It’s crazy. I mean, Alena says the girl’s okay and everything, but still, it’s scary.”
“Definitely scary.” He nods in agreement. “I’m glad we left.”
“Me, too,” I agree, wrapping my arms around myself as a shiver breaks out across my skin.
I’m not even positive why I’m freaking out so much. I’ve heard of stories like this before. I know this sort of stuff happens. My mom’s given me at least ten lectures about never leaving my drinks unattended and only drinking what I pour myself. Still, it’s unnerving that there are people out there who do this sort of stuff. Who want to take advantage of people. Who want to shatter people.
Evil, that’s what they are. That’s all there is to it. And tonight, I may have looked at them, saw them unknowingly.
I shiver. Tonight, I might have seen evil.
Five
Harlynn
After I inform Foster about the girl’s drink getting drugged, he pulls over to send a text to some of his friends, warning them to leave the party and that someone should notify the cops. Then he steers back onto the road and drives toward our spot, seeming distracted.
“Are you doing okay over there?” I slip off my boots and crack the window open, letting the warm, summer air breeze in.
“What?” He grips the wheel, glancing at me. “Oh yeah, I’m fine.” He plasters on a grin. “I mean, why wouldn’t I be? I’m with you.”
I roll my eyes. “Jesus, if girls heard the shit you said to me, they’d be even more obsessed with you.”
“No one’s obsessed with me,” he says then sighs. “Well, Evalynn is, I guess. But that’s different.”
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, dude. I know you know almost every girl we went to school with had a crush on you at some point. They weren’t obsessing like Evalynn, but a ton of girls think you’re hot.” I playfully narrow my eyes at him. “And I know you’ve noticed.”
“I do not,” he protests. When I give him a don’t-try-to-bullshit-me-buddy look, he heaves a dramatic sigh. “Fine, I do. But that doesn’t mean I like the attention. In fact, most of the time, I hate it.”
Does that apply to Beth too? Considering how much he was smiling at her, I’m going to have to go with a probably not. Not that I’m going to say anything.
There’s a fine line between teasing your best friend about being a flirt and sounding like a jealous, love-struck stalker.
I pat his arm. “Aw … poor baby.”
“I don’t even know why they like me.” He grimaces. “I’m not that great.”
“Um, yeah, I’m going to have to disagree with you on that.”
“Is that your way of trying to say you think I’m great?” he teases with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know you’re hot. And sweet. And funny.”
His lips span into a grin. “You know, if you keep rolling your eyes like that, they’re going to get stuck. Then what am I going to do when I have to send you cryptic looks to get me away from my stalker? You won’t be able to see them.”
I prop my feet up onto the dash. “Guess you’ll just have to come up with another cryptic way to communicate with me.”
“Like what exactly?” His tone glitters with amusement. “Cryptically kiss you? Because that doesn’t seem very discreet. Although, it’d definitely be interesting.”
Sometimes, when he says stuff like that, I worry he’s aware that I’m in love with him. But how could he know? I’ve never told anyone except for Alena. But since I know just as many of her secrets as she does mine, she’d be risking a lot by telling him.
“Let’s definitely not do that,” I reply, the epitome of chill, but only because I’ve had practice. Lots and lots of friend-zone practice. “And FYI, not only would us kissing be the lamest way to secretly communicate, but it’d also be the grossest.”
“Hey, it could work …” He trails off, his brows furrowing “Wait. Are you saying you think kissing me would be gross?” He presses his hand to his chest. “Ouch, that kinda stings.”
“Dude, don’t pretend like you don’t agree with me.”
“That kissing me is gross?” He stares at the road ahead. “Yeah, I’m going to disagree with you. In fact, I’ve been told I’m a fantastic kisser.”
So have I, by the handful of girls he’s kissed over the years. A few of them are my friends, so I got to hear all the lovely details, and then I pretended to be all oh my hell, that sounds so amazing, while a part of my soul withered away.
“I didn’t mean you were a bad kisser,” I clarify. “I meant you and me kissing would be gross.”
He casts me a curious glance. “Why?”
I s
hrug, reaching for my soda. “I don’t know … Because we’ve known each other for so long.”
I really need to get off this subject before I accidentally say something stupid.
I take a long swallow as I rack my mind for another topic, but he speaks first.
“So, you’ve never thought about it before?” he asks, watching my reaction closely.
“Thought about kissing you?” I shrug, all awesomely cool on the outside, but I’m a clusterfuck of nerves on the inside. “Not really.”
“Never?” he questions again.
I shake my head. Why the hell is he pushing this?
He looks back at the road again. “Well, that sucks.”
Huh? “Why?”
He fiddles with the stereo. “Because I’ve thought about it.”
“About kissing me?”
He has to be messing with me. There’s no way Foster could think of me like that. I’d know if he did.
“Yeah.” He lowers his hand from the stereo and clears his throat. “A lot actually.”
Holy crazy zombies, is this really happening?
Unsure what’s going on, I remain quiet. Strangely, so does he. And the silence is beyond awkward, which is annoying. I just got us over this whole silent awkward thing like fifteen minutes ago!
After a minute more of maddening silence, he turns off the highway, driving the short distance down the bumpy dirt road until we reach the parking spot near the cliffs. Stretching just in front of us and about thirty feet down is the lake. The water is rippling from the gentle breeze and reflecting in the moonlight. It’s such a pretty scene during the day, but at night, this place is gorgeous.
“It’s so pretty up here,” I remark, reclining back in the seat.
He stays quiet.
When I glance at him, he’s looking at me, the moonlight trailing in from the window highlighting the nervous edge in his features.
“You’re acting weird,” I say. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“You really want to know?”
The intensity in his eyes makes me hesitate. “I don’t know. I guess it all depends on if it’s something bad.”
He unfastens his seatbelt and twists in the seat to face me. “I don’t think it’s bad, but you might.”
Okay, now I’m getting extremely uneasy. “You’re not, like, planning on going off to college and never talk to me again, are you?”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “That’s the last thing I’d ever do.”
“I highly doubt that,” I joke nervously. “There’s a ton of stuff I know you’d never do, like pierce your lip, go skydiving, eat a pickle …” I trail off as he reaches over and touches his palm to my cheek.
He looks me straight in the eye. “I want to kiss you … I’ve wanted to for a long time.”
Holy did-I-get-high-tonight?
“W-what?” I sputter, feeling a bit lightheaded.
Seriously, did I accidentally get high tonight?
He traces his thumb along my cheekbone. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I have since I was fourteen. And I know I’m probably freaking you out, and I’m really sorry about it, but I don’t think I can do this anymore. That I pretend like I see you as just a friend.”
Speechless. That’s about what I am. All these years, I thought my feelings for him were one-sided. Come to find out, they weren’t. I can’t even wrap my mind around it. In fact, I’m pretty sure my brain isn’t working at all. I feel so lightheaded. Dizzy. Out of touch with reality.
“I … I love you.”
Oh, my hell! Did I just say that aloud?
I feel ill …
No… I feel so lightheaded…
Foster exhales, his breath dusting my cheek.
When did he get so close to me?
“I love you, too. So fucking much.”
Then he leans across the seat and presses his lips to mine.
The first touch of our lips is gentle, a friendly greeting. But, as he lets out a husky groan and parts my lips with his tongue, that friendly greeting ignites into a deep, four-years-in-the-making passion.
Suddenly, he’s kissing me. And I mean, really kissing me, his tongue tangling with mine as he tangles his fingers through my hair.
With shaky fingers, I reach down to unfasten my seatbelt so I can get closer to him. It takes me a few tries, mostly because my mind is spinning, but eventually, I manage. Then I clumsily climb over the console, and he eagerly helps me, pulling me over until I’m straddling his lap.
Once I’m settled, he kisses me deeply.
I kiss him with just as much intensity, my lip ring cutting into his lip. He groans in … in lust? In pure and utter desire? In complete and utter torturous agony? I’m not really sure.
“This is better than I imagined,” he whispers when he finally takes a breath.
I nod breathlessly. “Yeah …”
He plays with my hair, resting his other hand against the sliver of space between my tank top and shorts.
“You really love me?” he asks with his forehead resting against mine.
I bob my head up and down. “I have since I was fifteen.” I shut my eyes, feeling so relaxed I could just about fall asleep …
I’m so dizzy …
“You should’ve told me,” he murmurs. “All this time, we could’ve been together.”
“That works both ways … You could’ve told me, too …”
Foster leans back to look at me. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” I promise.
“Kiss me again,” Foster whispers, molding his palm against my cheek.
He doesn’t wait for me to answer, his lips finding mine as he slips his hand up my shirt. I don’t stop him, even though a protest burns on my tongue.
Hesitant. Why am I hesitant?
And why do I feel so dizzy?
“I love you,” he repeats as he trails his fingers toward the waistband of my shorts.
Nervousness creeps up inside me. I’ve never done anything like this before. But I try to tell myself to calm down. That this is Foster. That everything will be okay.
“I love you,” he repeats as he dips his hands down into my shorts. “I’m going to—”
A sharp light cuts off his words.
Then everything goes dark.
Six
Harlynn
I’m flying … Or floating … I can’t really tell. Wherever I am, I feel weightless. Perhaps I turned into a bird or something. But I’m unsure why I would or how I would. Magic maybe?
I start to laugh at the idea that I’m actually considering magic is real when my chest starts to tighten. At first, the sensation is only mildly uncomfortable, but the more the pressure increases, the more the discomfort morphs into pain. And I’m cold. So cold. And wet.
Water. Water is all around me.
Panic flares through my veins, but then the water is no longer there and a darkness eases through me.
“Come on; breathe,” a guy’s panicked voice cuts through the darkness clouding my mind. “Don’t do this. Fight… goddammit.”
He sounds brokenly tortured. I want to help him. Want to breathe like he demands. But my lungs aren’t working at the moment.
Wait. My lungs aren’t working?
I’m not breathing!
Reality crashes down on me, and I attempt to move my body, but just like my lungs, my limbs aren’t cooperating.
I’m going to die!
“Come on. Come on … Don’t do this to me.” His voice cracks. “Fight. Please.”
I want to help him. Want to take his pain away. Want to breathe for him.
I’m trying. I really am.
Warm, familiar lips touch mine.
I think I know those lips …
Air flows down my throat and feeds my lungs. The pressure builds, tightening, tightening, tightening … My blood feels thick, heavy, potent, as if it’s eating me from the inside out.
I think I’m dying …
�
�Come on, please.” He sounds like he’s crying now. “Please don’t give up… I’ll do anything.”
I want to comfort him, want to make him feel better. So, with every ounce of strength I have left in me, I reach up and brush my fingers through his damp strands of hair.
It’ll be all right …
That’s the last thought I have before every noise slips away into the darkness.
Before I slip away into the darkness.
Seven
Harlynn
Twelve years old…
“Kingsley’s so weird,” Foster mutters from beside me.
We’re sitting on a dock with our legs dangling over the edge. It’s summer, and we’ve spent the last month doing this exact same thing every day while our families’ vacation together. It’s becoming a nice routine, just him and me spending lunch away from our parents.
I always invite Kingsley to come with us, but he never does. He hardly ever does anything with us anymore, hasn’t since he kissed me on the cheek. I’m not sure why. It was just a kiss on the cheek, and I didn’t get upset about it. In fact, it made me feel a lot better after Sprinkles, my fish, died. But, for some reason, he’s mad at me now. Maybe because he regrets kissing me? That makes me sort of sad and makes me question if maybe I’m gross or something. None of the boys at school have crushes on me and barely talk to me, so maybe.
I splash my feet in the water, glancing at the cabin porch where Kingsley is reading a book. “I think he’s just quiet.”
Foster stares at the water with a crinkle at his brow. “He’s not as quiet as everyone thinks.”
I grip the edge of the dock. “Really?”
He nods. “He talks all the time when we’re at home.”
“More than you?” I smirk at him.
He narrows his eyes at me, but a smile tugs at his lips. “Just for that.” He lightly pushes on my arm, causing me to tip toward the edge.
Panicking, I grip his arm. “Please don’t. I suck at swimming.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll jump in and save you.” He winks at me.
Breathing Lies: (The Breathing Undead Series, Book 1) Page 5
