Don't Kiss Your Enemy (Rockford High #4)

by Victorine E. Lieske

  Oh, great. What was she getting herself into? She didn’t really want to answer that. But she didn’t want to tell him no. He’d think it was odd.

  Yes.

  Her phone indicated he was typing for quite a while before the message came through.

  I’ve kissed four. One was in second grade, though, and doesn’t count. She kissed me because I was sad, and she wanted to cheer me up.

  And the other three?

  One was my first date. I kissed her on her doorstep because I thought that’s what you always did. I didn’t realize until later that I probably shouldn’t kiss a girl unless I really liked her.

  That was sweet of you, though.

  Yeah, I guess. Then I dated a girl for a while and she was my first real kiss. My first kiss with a girl who I liked. But then she started liking another guy and we broke up.

  And the last one?

  He paused for a while, and she thought maybe she’d lost him until an answer finally came through.

  The last one meant something special. She’s one I could fall in love with.

  A strange feeling came over Amanda. It was a mixture of jealousy and something else she couldn’t put her finger on. She didn’t know who this guy was, but he sounded like a really nice guy. The kind of guy she could like. And to know that he had kissed other girls…and specifically a girl he was still interested in wasn’t comfortable.

  Good for you.

  She whacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. Good for you? What kind of a thing was that to say? How stupid was she?

  Okay. Your turn. How many guys have you kissed?

  Amanda grew nervous to tell him.

  Aside from my uncles at family events?

  Yes.

  And aside from my cousin who wanted to know what kissing a girl felt like?

  Gross.

  It was just a peck.

  Okay, then. Yes, aside from your cousin who you kissed, even though that’s gross.

  Amanda rolled onto her back and pulled the covers over her shoulders. Her room had gotten cold. And she was kind of trying to delay answering the question because she was self-conscious about it. But she agreed to tell him, so she typed it fast and hit enter.

  One.

  No answer came back. Amanda started to freak out. What was he thinking? Did he care that she had only had one real kiss? What would he think if she told him it had happened tonight? Her phone vibrated and she looked at the screen.

  Wow.

  Chapter 16

  Cole jumped off the weight machine, his pulse racing. One? Was Amanda saying what he thought she was saying? Her first kiss had been with him? Tonight?

  Wow what? Is that good? Bad? Are you thinking I’m such a prude? That I’m naive? What?

  I wasn’t thinking any of those things.

  Then what did your wow mean?

  Cole ran a hand over his hair. Suddenly the kiss he’d shared with Amanda meant so much more. She had never experienced that before, and she chose to share it with him. He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. She’d kissed him...and then he’d made her feel terrible.

  What a jerk move. He didn’t need to do that. He could have told her he’d fight with her. Even if all he did was talk to his father, it would be something, right?

  He texted her back.

  I was just surprised is all.

  Well, you’re making me self-conscious.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He sat back down on the weight machine.

  I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. Cole tapped the side of his phone. Was it bad that he wanted to know what Amanda thought of the kiss? He wondered if he would regret talking to her about it. But he really wanted to know. Tell me about him. The guy you kissed.

  He waited a long time for Amanda to answer and he started to get nervous she’d figured out it was him. But then her text came through.

  He can be amazingly kind. And understanding. And then he can be pig-headed and a real jerk face.

  Cole stared at the phone. He did mess up back at the opera house. He didn’t know what to say to make everything better, though. His father was going to get his way. There wasn’t anything else to do but back off and let the building be destroyed.

  And yet, if he was going to make Amanda his girl, he needed to support her—fully. He was starting to see that now. He had to take her side, even if that meant standing up to his father.

  I’m sorry he was a jerk to you. You don’t deserve that.

  He didn’t receive a text back right away, so he stood and crossed the room. It was late, but Cole wasn’t tired. He was done working out, though, so he shut off the lights in the weights room and walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge in the dark and rummaged around for something.

  His father came into the kitchen and flicked on the light. Cole slid his phone into his pocket and nodded at his father. “You’re home late.”

  His father exhaled and loosened his tie. “Just dealing with a few hiccups.”

  “Hiccups with the opera house?”

  His father raised his eyebrows. “No. Why?”

  Disappointment filled him. If his father was having trouble with the demolition, maybe he could find a way to delay it. But it sounded like it was still going well. “No reason.” His phone chimed in his pocket, but he ignored it.

  His father sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Just dealing with some bad PR. I have to turn things around, or it will be bad for our company.” He pointed to the refrigerator door. “Are you going to eat something or are you going to just stand there and let the cold air out?”

  Cole grabbed a pudding cup and let the door swing shut. His father looked a bit disheveled. “You fall asleep at the desk again?”

  His father shook his head. “No.”

  “What’s that on your cheek?” Cole squinted. OMG. Was that lipstick? It was red. And it looked like it could be lipstick. What was his father doing?

  His father wiped at his cheek and shrugged. “Sweet and sour sauce, probably. You headed to bed?”

  Cole stared at him. Was his father seeing someone? And why had the possibility never even registered to him? He shook his head. “Uh, yeah. After I shower.”

  “Okay. Good night.” He left the kitchen.

  Cole pulled a spoon out of the drawer, this new information filtering through his brain. If his father was dating a woman, that would explain all the late nights he’d been having at work. The way he seemed preoccupied even when he was at home.

  Cole pulled out his phone and looked at what Amanda had sent as he dug his spoon into his pudding.

  Sorry, my sister came in and wanted to talk.

  What did she want?

  Nothing important.

  No worries. I was talking to my father. I think he’s secretly dating a woman behind my back.

  Amanda sent him a shocked emoji face. Wow, seriously?

  Yeah, he had lipstick on his cheek. And he’s been staying later and later at work.

  Dang. What are you going to do? Confront him?

  Cole hadn’t thought about it. Would he ever confront him? Or just pretend he didn’t know? At what point would his father tell him?

  I don’t know.

  That’s kind of weird, huh? My mom doesn’t date. But if she did, it would feel odd.

  It’s different. I never thought about him dating. I wonder who she is.

  Maybe you can follow him. Do some undercover work. Find out.

  That’s creepy.

  Yeah, maybe. I know. I could find out for you. Tell me who your father is. She sent him a winky face.

  Haha. Funny.

  His spoon scraped the bottom of the pudding cup. He rinsed it under the faucet and tossed it into the recycling bin. Then he threw the spoon in the sink. It made a clanging noise.

  I hope you know I’m kidding.

  Yes, I do.

  I’d better say good night. My sister is bugging me to shut off my phone.

  Cole chuck
led. He often wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. When he was younger, he begged for a brother. When he realized it wasn’t going to happen, he decided he was okay with being an only child. But he had to admit he was a little jealous of those who had siblings growing up.

  Good night.

  Chat with you tomorrow, secret texter.

  Chapter 17

  Amanda stood in front of the opera house, her arms outstretched as far as she could reach. She knew it was a dream. Everything around her had that dream-like quality, hazy and misty. A large bulldozer appeared before her, the dark windows menacing. She stood alone.

  The bulldozer roared to life, and a blast of hot air hit her in the face, blowing her hair back. “Stop!” she called.

  No one was around to hear her. She trembled. There was no way she could stop it from coming, all alone. It would sweep her out of the way like a bug.

  The machine crept forward, the engine whining. Straining. The metal scoop hit Amanda’s leg and she took a step back. The machine seemed to growl at her.

  And then the dark window turned clear and someone materialized behind the wheel. Cole. He snarled at her. “Get out of the way!” he shouted over the roar of the bulldozer.

  The building behind her faded away and instead, her father stood there. “Papa,” Amanda said under her breath as she tried to run to him. He waited for her, but her legs wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t carry her to him.

  The bulldozer sprang to life and came after her, nipping at her heels.

  She woke, her heart beating wildly. The loud noise of a vehicle outside made her jump out of bed and run to the window. A neighbor was pulling a tree stump with a truck.

  Her dream still fresh in her mind, Amanda pondered it. Cole wasn’t the one knocking down the opera house. He wasn’t even in a position to do anything to stop it. Not really. She’d been so unfair to him. Guilt rose in her gut. She needed to make things right with him.

  “What are you doing up?” Stephanie rolled over and pulled a pillow onto her head. “It’s Sunday.”

  “It’s nine o’clock. Not exactly the crack of dawn.”

  Stephanie groaned. “Turn off the lights.”

  Amanda let go of the curtain and it once again enveloped the room in darkness. Her sister hated sunlight. Maybe she was a vampire. That actually would explain a lot.

  “Now leave.”

  Amanda picked up her pillow and tossed it across the room at Stephanie. It hit her in the mound of pillows already on her head. “Hey,” she said, coming out from beneath them. “No crossing the line.”

  “I didn’t. Just my pillow did.”

  Stephanie hugged it to her chest. “Then it’s mine.”

  “No way. You’ll get slobber on it.” Amanda stepped across the line and grabbed it from Stephanie.

  Stephanie sat up, her blonde hair mussed from sleeping. Amanda thought she’d get yelled at for stepping into Stephanie’s space, but she didn’t say anything about it. “Hey. I know you’re upset about the opera house. And I understand why.”

  Stephanie hadn’t really talked to her about it, so Amanda was surprised. “You do?”

  “Yeah.” She scratched her scalp. “It’s the bedtime stories, isn’t it? The ones Mom used to tell you.”

  Amanda gaped at her sister. She didn’t even know Stephanie had paid attention. “You heard those?”

  “Mom always said you were the romantic one in the family.”

  “What? Me?” What was she talking about? Amanda wasn’t romantic. She was far from it.

  Stephanie made a face. “You so are. You devoured the stories Mom would tell you at night. You romanticized that opera house. Do you remember the first time we went there?”

  Amanda thought back. “For Peter Pan?”

  “Yes. You remember what you kept saying?”

  “No. I was little.”

  “You kept saying that someday you would meet your one true love at the opera house. That you would fall for him there. You were in love with the stories, and you thought the opera house had some magical powers or something.”

  Amanda didn’t remember that. “That’s funny.”

  “You were always talking about that place. How it was so special.” Stephanie grew sober. “So, I understand why you’re trying to fight to save it.”

  “Do you think I have a chance?”

  Stephanie didn’t answer right away, which was answer enough. She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. “I think what you’re doing is noble.”

  “But…”

  Stephanie shrugged. Her non-answer told Amanda everything. She didn’t think it would work.

  Amanda knew Stephanie was right. She just didn’t want to admit it.

  Stephanie let out a sigh. “Maybe if I mention your efforts on my Vlog, you will gain more support. Maybe it will make a difference.”

  Amanda gaped at her sister. “You’d do that?”

  Stephanie smiled. “Sure.”

  “Thank you!” Amanda rushed to her and gave her a hug.

  “No need to get all emotional over it,” Stephanie said.

  Amanda smiled and backed up. Her sister’s sassy way of saying she was done with the subject. Amanda opened up her hamster cage and scooped up Ferb. The little guy sniffed her hand as she brought him over to the desk. She sat down and fished a sunflower seed out of the treat bag.

  If her family had money, she could save the opera house. She could just buy it. She could do a lot of things. Maybe even make a difference in the world.

  Ferb wiggled out of her grasp and climbed up her arm. She picked him up and set him on the desk and dug out another sunflower seed. She set the seed down in front of him and he sniffed it before picking it up and stuffing it into his cheek with the other one.

  She watched as Ferb explored the desktop. Maybe if Stephanie could talk about it on her Vlog, she could get more community support. Maybe she could…

  Her phone buzzed and she grabbed Ferb, put him back in his cage, and looked at the screen. “Oh, no.”

  “Who is it?” Stephanie asked.

  “It’s Mrs. Henderson.”

  Stephanie scrambled out of bed. “I’m busy tonight.” She rushed out of their room into the hallway bathroom.

  Amanda sighed and answered the call. The Hendersons lived two blocks down, and they often would hire either Stephanie or herself to babysit. That in and of itself wasn’t a problem. Amanda liked babysitting. But the Henderson child was a monster.

  “Hello?”

  “Amanda. I’m glad you answered. I’m in kind of a desperate situation and I was wondering if you’re free today to watch little Ollie? Normally I wouldn’t ask on such short notice, but my sitter just called and she’s sick. I’m hoping you’re free today.”

  Amanda’s vision of her free day swirled down the drain. “All day?”

  “Can you? That would be great. I have to leave in an hour. Could you be here in forty-five minutes? I’m willing to pay extra because of the short notice.”

  The extra pay was incentive, and what else would she do, anyway? Maybe Oliver wouldn’t be so bad today. “Yes. I can be there in forty-five minutes.”

  “You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.”

  Mrs. Henderson hung up and Amanda rummaged through her closet to find something to wear. Maybe she could take Ollie to the park if it wasn’t too cold out. He always liked running around.

  Chapter 18

  Cole clicked on his mouse, searching for the zillionth time to find a way to somehow convince his father that restoring the old opera house would be a better investment than knocking it down and building a parking garage. But no matter how he did the math, it wouldn’t work. His father would never invest in something that had diminishing returns.

  He let out a frustrated grunt and pushed back in his desk chair. He had to go talk to his father. There was no other way. But if he had no ammunition, he would just make his father angry for no reason.

  He lifted a barbell he had sitting in the corner of
his room. Working his muscles always helped him think. The opera house could be another community theater. But they already had one. A nicer, newer one. Rockford wasn’t large enough to have two of them.

  He thought about all the old costumes and props sitting in the storage room in the back. His father could turn the opera house into a museum. Except most museums were not money makers. And his father wouldn’t sink investment money into something that needed government funding to limp along.

  The memory of that night with Amanda settled in his mind. He wanted an excuse to go see her today, and the one thing he could think of was to research Lily Foster. Amanda seemed interested in who she was. If he could come up with some cool information about Lily, he could use it as an excuse to meet with her.

  He typed in the name and “opera singer” in his search engine. A wealth of information popped onto his screen. As he looked at the website that came up first, he started to grow excited.

  The answer to saving the opera house just might be Lily Foster.

  Amanda buckled Ollie into his car seat, making sure it was snug on him. “Now, you’ll have to be good at the mall, okay?”

  His shock of blond hair was getting long, as if he wouldn’t hold still for a decent haircut. He looked up at her with his wide, blue eyes. “I want to get ice cream.”

  “If you’re good, we’ll get ice cream.”

  “What if I can’t be good?” He stuck out his bottom lip.

  Amanda tousled his hair. “You can be good. I’ve seen you be good.”

  He laid his head back in his car seat. “But it’s so hard.”

  “All you have to do is follow the rules. Don’t hit. Don’t bite. And play nice.” Amanda remembered the last time she’d taken him to the mall and added one more. “And don’t run off.”

  “Okay,” he said, his voice low and growly, like he didn’t think he could do it.

  “Come on, let’s go have fun. You love climbing on the plastic animals.” Amanda tried to keep her voice light, even though she had a sinking suspicion that this trip was going to end in disaster. Ollie didn’t play nice with other kids. And he didn’t like to obey. But she’d had him cooped up in his house all morning and now wanted to let him run around. At least the play area had a swinging gate that latched.