Nora grunts, still in denial. “Yeah. Apparently.”
Dad’s head snaps to me and he points an accusing finger. “Okay then. Eli, you’re driving Nora. I find out you drink, life as you know it is over.”
I wish I could yell at him to leave me the hell alone. Sometimes I think he wants me to screw up and get caught. “Dad, I got it,” I say, just to shut him up.
“You kids have fun, though. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
I inhale, trying to stay cool. I walk away, my back to him, and hear the back door shut. “Ladies and gentlemen, Police Chief Michael Costas, Dad of the year!”
She pats my back. “I love your dad so much.”
I open her trunk and hoist the cooler into the back. “Oh yeah, he’s adorable, unless you actually have to live with him.”
“It beats having a dad you see twice a year and then it’s horribly awkward because you don’t even know each other,” she grumbles.
“Yeah. I guess. You going to see him this summer?”
“No.” Her voice gets soft. “I don’t think so. He’ll come for graduation. Mom and him won’t talk to each other, and then he’ll go home.”
There she is, getting sad again. I can’t let that happen, not today. “His loss,” I say, not giving her any room to argue. “Let’s go.”
She holds out the keys for me, but I don’t take them. “Your mom is at work. We don’t have to switch.”
The color drains from her face. I can actually hear her gulp.
Time for another pep talk. “Come on, you did great last time. This time will be even easier.” I walk around to the passenger side and try to ignore the fact that my knee still hurts. I’ve been doing stretches, taking it easy at practice… I can’t shake whatever’s wrong with it, though, and I gotta stay healthy.
Nora opens the driver’s side and looks at the steering wheel, terrified. She gets in anyway, backs out with the speed of a sedated tree sloth, and finally makes it to the road. Silently, slowly, she winds her way through the neighborhood. When she turns onto Main, she leans forward and peers at the sky. “I think it’s gonna rain. Maybe we shouldn’t go.”
I rub my temple. “Okay, science genius girl, I know that there is no chance of rain, not even a little, so stop trying to con your way out of this.”
Her fingers grip the steering wheel tighter. “I’m not. I just don’t want to drive all the way out there if it’s going to rain.”
“It’s not going to rain.” I turn to her. She needs a distraction, so I decide this might be a good time for a compliment. “So, your hair…” I say, with no real plan for how to finish that sentence.
“What?” She touches it and glances at the rearview mirror. “Does it look bad?” She swerves into the next lane.
“Watch the road,” I say. “And no. It doesn’t. It doesn’t look bad at all. It looks really good,” I say, but I can see in her wrinkled-up forehead that she’s not buying it. My stomach churns. Maybe this isn’t gonna work. Maybe I have been in her friend zone for too long.
“Thanks.” She smirks. “Yours doesn’t look bad, either.”
This is a disaster. How can I compliment her if she doesn’t believe me?
Get it together, Costas.
“Hey, you want some pie before we head out?” If she can’t take a compliment, I can at least maximize our time together.
“Sure.”
She pulls into the Mermaid parking lot, overshoots the turn, and scrapes the hubcap on the curb.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she says. She doesn’t swear much, so it sounds funny coming out of her mouth and I bust up.
“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” she says. When I look at her, though, she’s not mad. In fact, there’s a lopsided grin on her face. “It’s true, though, I really suck.” She laughs and pulls into a spot, well, half of one spot, half of another.
“See, that’s what you need to do,” I say. “You need to chill out; relax.” I lean toward her, knowing that if this plan is going to work, I can’t be afraid to get close. “And you don’t suck.”
She backs away, and I remind myself that this isn’t going to happen overnight. We get out and I assess her parking job. “Okay, maybe you do suck. But you’ll get better. I promise.”
We’re late to the party and I don’t really care. My plan calls for us to spend time together. Which we did at the Mermaid, over underbaked chocolate cream and overbaked key lime. Nora parks in the beach lot, actually in the lines this time, and yanks out the key with confidence. “It’s amazing,” she says, “you didn’t yell at me once.”
“Don’t get too cocky, we still have the drive home,” I say. I’m giving her a hard time even though she did do good. She pops the trunk and I get out, breathing in the salty air. I love everything about the beach: volleyball, surfing, skimboarding, girls in bikinis… Also, there are lots of memories here, with Nora. We used to come all the time, with our families, when we were younger.
We walk side by side through the mangroves up the path to the shore, and Koviak spots us from a distance. “Hey, it’s about damn time!” he yells.
“Yay,” Nora says, her voice oozing sarcasm.
“Kov’s a good guy,” I whisper.
She huffs. “He doesn’t like me.”
“He likes you, Nora.”
“He does not.”
“Because you went out once and you dumped him? Trust me, he’s over it. In fact, he thinks you’re totally hot. Probably would say yes if you gave him another shot.”
“Ouch!” She stops, takes off her flip-flop, and grabs my shirt sleeve for balance. She brushes off the bottom of her foot. “See, that’s why I didn’t want to come.” I reach out a hand to steady her, holding onto her arm while she puts the flip-flop back on.
“Why?” I ask.
Her eyes rivet to mine. “Because I can’t give him another shot, can I?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
She groans. “Eli. You know I can’t. That’s not the way it works.”
I let go of her arm. Yeah, I do know. Better than anyone.
Suddenly I’m not in the best mood. “You know, what if you’re wrong?” A group of lacrosse players passes us, grunting and shouting “Eli” like Neanderthals.
She ignores them, sets her mouth, and narrows her eyes. “What if I’m right?”
Who’s gonna argue with that?
I run a hand through my hair. Me. That’s who. I’m gonna prove to her she’s dead wrong.
“Nora,” I say. “I know you’re always right and shit, but just today, why don’t you try to forget all that, don’t think so much, and have fun? You can do it. I know you can.”
She trudges down the wooden steps to the beach. “Of course I can,” she says. “I know how to have fun, Eli.”
“Then prove it.” I nudge her arm and smile. “It’ll be a challenge, but pretend you’re a normal girl.”
She doesn’t answer, but she starts moving again, and I figure that’s answer enough.
Down on the sand, I’m instantly pulled in with a group of the guys who want to talk lacrosse. A few minutes later, I scan the crowd and I see her down near the water with Abby, who is laying out a towel next to a bunch of the other girls.
A few of them are talking to Nora. Good. Good. At least they aren’t ignoring her. The most amazing thing about this scene is that they’re all in bikinis, laid out on stomachs or backs. It’s a beautiful sight—a sea of skin.
Thankfully, Nora is still in her shorts and T-shirt when Tex runs up to her and points to the volleyball net. Oh yeah. I’m gonna kill that guy. He’s working that dopey cowboy mug of his and trying to charm her. The worst thing is, she seems to be buying it. Shit. She cannot kiss that dude.
“Volleyball, anyone?” I yell loud enough for Tex to hear. “Koviak!” I call to where he’s standing next to a cooler. “Let’s start a game, man!”
“Sure.”
I jog over to Nora and…what’s his name. “Hey.” Seriously,
what is his name? Something weird. “Koviak’s starting a volleyball game. You should play.” I thrust my thumb over my shoulder.
Another grin spreads on his big mouth. “Yeah. Sounds good.” He lifts a hand to me. I’m supposed to high-five him? God, what an ass.
I leave him hanging, and he gets the hint. “You play, Nora?” he says to her.
She wrinkles up her nose. God, she’s cute. “No thanks, I’ll watch.”
I want to do a backflip. Denied you cow turd, now go the fuck away!
Tex looks like someone stole his favorite lasso. “Cool, let’s talk later. Maybe go for a walk?” he says, so obvious with the pickup lines I want to hurl.
Nora lifts up on her toes and, holy shit, did she just flip her hair? “Yeah. Sure. Definitely.”
She has no shame.
“Aren’t you gonna play?” she asks me when I don’t leave with Tex to join the game.
I shake my head. “Nah, gotta protect the knee.” Which is suddenly hurting like a mother. “Up for a swim?”
Her eyes do that squinty, suspicious thing. “Okay.”
“Why do you always look at me like that?”
“Like what?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Like you don’t believe me. I’m telling you the truth—I don’t want to play. Let those jackasses ruin their knees. I want to swim. Do you want to come with me?”
She lays out her towel next to Abby’s, and then she turns toward the ocean, big and powerful and infinite, lifts both arms at the same time and pulls her shirt up over her head.
Adrenaline, almost like I’m running a play, rushes through me. I mean, I guess it’s adrenaline—either that, or I’m just straight up turned on. Damn. I can’t look away. I haven’t seen her this clothes-free in a long time. I have to concentrate on moving the air in and out of my lungs. This is Nora. This is no big deal.
Except it is.
She’s wearing this little striped bikini top I can barely handle. Then she takes her shorts off next and I see the bikini bottom—same stripes, and just as small. Not a lot of coverage.
“Let’s go in,” she says. “I’m hot.”
I run a hand through my hair. Holy shit. You’re telling me.
Chapter Nine
Nora
Eli’s acting so weird today, and I wish I knew why. Maybe he just can’t believe I’m here. To be honest, neither can I.
It’s a beautiful day, the sun’s out, and it’s hot. Not blazing hot like in the summer, but just right. Abby’s here, which is good. It’s nice to see a familiar face. The rest of the crew—Veronica, Aimee, Tori, and Madison—after getting over their initial shock of seeing me, act surprisingly decent.
Maybe Eli is right; maybe they don’t hate me.
None of this explains him being so…attentive is the only word I can think of. The only reason I’m here is to wean myself off him, but it almost feels like he’s on to my plan, and determined to thwart it.
That’s ridiculous, of course. He can’t read my mind.
I do notice he’s looking at me in this bikini. Like really looking. Not that it matters. I’ve never been shy around him and I’m not going to start now. Plus, it’s my body. Even though I’m not quite used to how I’m filling out this bikini top, I’m not embarrassed. My boobs—they’re there. I’ve managed to hold only a bit of tan from last summer, and thanks to a long line of pear-shaped genetics, I got a little something going on in the back.
It’s all science anyway. Nothing you can do about it, it is what it is. Might as well embrace it.
Let him look.
Plus, let’s talk about him for a second. His shirt’s off, and the sweat on his muscles is catching the sunlight. His tan never fades and his eyes are bright blue right now, bluer than the water in front of us. He’s a Greek god, come down from Olympus to mess with us mortals. He’s trying to grow out his hair—that’s a lacrosse team thing, the shaggy hair. Only I know that if his gets too long it curls up like a poodle. Right now, it’s perfect. The thick salty air has it sticking up in all directions. It’s so sexy.
All he needs are the glasses and I’d be doomed.
What I should be doing is thinking of the new kid from Texas. Caleb. He’s in my AP Bio class and I have yet to kiss him. He’s totally handsome, tall, light-brown hair. And his body is… Let’s just say, I’ve heard he played hockey where he came from and wow. If that’s a hockey body, warm up the Zamboni and clear the ice. I mean, wow. He’s got these high cheekbones that make him look like a comic book superhero. His lips look utterly kissable. I’ve checked them out. In fact, I should be playing volleyball up there with him.
Except I have zero athletic skills, and the water looks so inviting.
We walk into the surf, side by side, Eli and me. The water is chilly, but the sun is hot and it feels good. The gentle waves break on our ankles, then our knees.
Which reminds me. “How is your knee?” He’s been limping and it seems to be getting worse.
He smiles. “Perfect.”
He forgets how well I know him. I can hear the anxiety in his voice. As much as I don’t get the appeal of lacrosse—or really any organized sport—I know he loves it.
I do wish he’d see the bigger picture, though. Back in the fall, I asked him if he was going to apply to other schools and he took major offense. Why wouldn’t we stick with our plan? I believe is what he said. The memory fills me with dread. How am I going tell him about Emory?
Not that he could get in anywhere else. His grades suck, and his ACT score was middle of the road, but I know he could do better. He’s smart, just lazy. If it’s not pie or lacrosse, he’s pretty much not interested.
The water laps at my bare stomach and makes me squeal. “Oh God, it’s so cold!”
“Don’t be such a wimp!” Eli says, splashing me.
I shiver from head to toe. “Don’t!” I splash back, harder, but he doesn’t care. He dives under the surface and disappears. I’m up to my chest now, and he’s nowhere to be seen, and I’m tossed back in time to another day at the beach. We were maybe eleven, here with his mom, my mom, Gigi, and Ari, who wasn’t even in kindergarten yet.
The water was really choppy that day, and we were fearless. We dove in and out of the waves for hours, rode them all the way in to shore.
Then, all of a sudden, he was gone.
He’d gotten pulled under and didn’t come back up. Even then, I knew about science, about tides, and the ocean and how it worked. I knew about riptides, and how to swim out of them and not drown. Eli had no idea.
Our moms and Gigi came running into the water, all of them screaming his name. Without even thinking, I dove under, my small hands searching for Eli. Truth was, there was no way I was coming up without him.
Finally I found him, or his leg anyway, and I clamped onto him and pulled him to me. It was like I had superhuman strength. His mom got him to shore and he spit out water and I gave him the biggest hug and cried my eyes out.
To this day I’ve never been more scared in my life.
He pops up again and I’m back in the present. He’s right in front of me. Closer than he probably should be. I try to step backward, but the tide is not having it.
He pushes his hair back, and his wet skin glistens. “Where are you?”
I should try to step back again. He’s so close. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”
“Are you? You look really far away.”
My stomach flutters. I’m nervous. I glance toward shore where I should be, with Caleb who I have not kissed. I don’t see him anywhere. I don’t see anything with Eli right in front of me.
“Remember that time you got pulled under?” I ask.
Is he moving closer to me? I can almost feel the warm sun reflecting off him.
He cocks his head and the dimple comes out. I’m wobbly on my legs. “I remember. You saved my life.”
Why is he so close?
“Did I ever thank you for that?”
I don’t know what to do ri
ght now except try to act normal. “You totally acted like it was no big deal, like you had it all under control. Then you threw up salt water for two hours.”
Did he just move closer again? Or is it me, moving closer to him?
He laughs, soft but deep, a man’s laugh. A good laugh—kind, not sarcastic or teasing. “In my defense, I was a little shit.”
We’ve moved into deeper water; my toes are barely grazing the sandy bottom now. I lose my footing and start to tread water. He’s not backing away. I know I should back off, except I can’t. There’s something holding me here and it feels good. “You were, sometimes, yes,” I say. “You usually made up for it. Like, I remember when we got home you helped Gigi bake a pie, and you gave it to me. You would have never admitted it to my face, but I knew that was a thank-you.”
“Oh, right. Cranberry apple.” He raises a brow. “You know how hard it is to find cranberries in the summer?” Under the surface, his hands touch mine.
I jerk away. “What are you doing?” I ask, suddenly terrified. This is the opposite of what should be happening.
He laughs again. “Jesus. Relax. I’m trying to keep you from sinking. Just hold on to my shoulders.” He lifts both of my hands to rest just above his clavicles. His skin is warm.
There are parts of my body growing warm, too.
I shouldn’t keep my hands here, I tell myself. I should move them immediately, but there’s nothing I can do to stop this. Those eyes have become tractor beams in a sci-fi movie. I’m caught in them, powerless to escape.
“Where did you find them?” I’m doing everything I can to make this seem normal, even though none of this is normal.
“Find what?” He lifts his hands out of the water and grips my forearms. He’s got to put them somewhere, right?
I swallow hard. “The cranberries?”
“Oh. Gigi knew a guy. Had some in his freezer.”
Yes, let’s talk about Gigi, that should cool me down. “You used to make pies with her all the time. I wish you hadn’t stopped. You could be making us good pie.”
His forehead creases up. “Yeah, it was always fun hanging out with her, then I got busy, I guess. Plus, you know, pie baker doesn’t really fit the image.”
The First Kiss Hypothesis Page 6
