The Kiss List

by Sara Jo Cluff

  The bell rang overhead, so Liam wrapped his arm around my shoulders and steered me toward my class.

  “Did you hear?” he asked. “There’s going to be a bocce ball club. You should join.”

  I put my arm around his waist. “That sounds fun. Is the captain of the club hot?”

  “Smoking. You should get his number.”

  I wiggled my eyebrows. “I already have it.”

  Liam found my ticklish spot on my side, and I broke out into a fit of laughter. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized we had a lot of people watching us, some holding up phones. But I didn’t care. It was the kind of attention I wanted. Liam and I were in a committed relationship, and there was nothing embarrassing about it.

  Besides, I wanted the world to know how much I loved the guy. And how comfortable I was with myself.

  THE END

  * * *

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  Acknowledgments

  Once again, all the thanks in the world to Cammie Larsen and Mary Gray at Monster Ivy Publishing. You two are rock stars, and the best editors and publisher a girl could ask for. Thanks for taking a chance on me, and making my stories all glossy and make-out worthy.

  Chad, thank you for standing by my side through all of this and making sure I never give up. I couldn’t have come this far without you. Also, I tell you this all the time, but now let it be publicly known, you seriously have the most kissable lips in the world, and they’re in my top five favorite things about you.

  As always, thank you to my family for being so supportive. Not all authors have that, so it means the world to me.

  A big thanks to Ellie Tate, Hannah Hales, Kira Gagnon, Brinley Babcock, and Hailey Sullivan for being my most passionate fans. You young ladies are the reason I keep on writing, and you mean the world to me. *squishy hugs*

  A huge thank you to all my readers. You make all this worth it.

  And to the few guys on my kiss list in high school, thanks for giving me something to daydream about.

  About the Author

  Sara Jo Cluff grew up in Yorba Linda, California, right next to the Happiest Place on Earth (aka her second home). Now, she resides in Utah with her husband, Chad, and their definite mama’s-girl cat, Princess Buttercup.

  She loves creating stories from scratch and seeing where the characters take her. When she’s not writing, she’s hanging out with her husband, watching Netflix, reading, or doing jigsaw puzzles.

  She’s a proud #PepperPack #Ambassador for the Most Delicious Beverage on Earth: Dr Pepper.

  Visit her author website, www.sarajocluff.com, and for merchandise, visit shop.spreadshirt.com/awkwardpepper.

  Also by Sara Jo Cluff

  After a catastrophic friendship, Elinora decides that having any relationship isn’t worth the heartbreak. Her parents still want her to socialize, so she starts her Filler Friend operation, unbeknownst to them. She’ll fill-in as a friend for anyone at school, whether it’s getting a gamer out of the house, or being a plus one at their parent’s boring work party.

  When a client becomes a regular, the lines of fiction and reality begin to blur, making Elinora unsure of what she really wants. Adding to the confusion, she’s slowly falling for the cute guy she met at the library. Before the operation blows up in her face, Elinora will have to decide if friendship and love are worth the risk, or if she’s better off shutting out the world forever.

  Filler Friend

  Chapter 1

  Speaking of serial killers, I was currently watching Tomahawk Tully draw her latest battle scene with way too much gory detail. Tully sat next to me in eleventh-grade English and made the last class of my day go by faster—grosser, but faster.

  We both loved to write. We were critique partners because we were basically the only people we knew who wrote novels and could be trusted to read each other’s work with honest and open minds. Although sometimes Tully was too honest. She was a fan of epic fantasy/horror (yeah, she mashed them together), and I stuck mostly to paranormal and psychological thrillers. I loved anything that messed with the mind.

  I also had a secret stash of romance novellas I’d written buried in the bottom of my desk so my parents wouldn’t find them. Some of the scenes would have been a little too heated for them, especially when it was their daughter writing them.

  Tully handed me the finished drawing. It was complete with dead bodies littering the grassy field. She only drew in black and white, but it was done so well that I could see red blood dripping everywhere.

  “Hey, Elinora,” she said, trying to get my attention. “That goes with the last chapter I gave you.”

  I stared at the paper, swallowing to keep the bile down. “Yeah, the chapter was more than enough. You explained everything so well, the picture isn’t needed.”

  She gripped the top of her short blue hair in her usual irritated fashion, giving it a little yank. “But now you can visualize it.”

  I didn’t want to visualize it.

  “Got any other chapters?” she asked.

  I rifled through my bag until I found the latest chapter of my YA thriller about a girl who contacts her mother on the other side and accidentally lets a ghost into our realm during the séance. “Here you go.”

  She took it from me, her eyes hesitantly glancing over the first page. “This one isn’t all sappy, is it? That last chapter was a gag fest.”

  “They shared a tiny peck on the lips,” I said.

  Her thick eyebrows pinched together. “Yeah, gag fest.”

  The bell rang, and I stood. “Get over it, Tully. Sometimes people like each other, and they kiss. Just read it.”

  “Whatever.” She stuffed the pages in her backpack and sulked out of the room, pushing some guy out of the way in the process. Once you got past the angry scowl and her I-hate-everyone attitude, she was actually a decent person.

  The sun warmed my skin the second I walked outside to head home. I watched all the other juniors get in their cars and drive off. I had a license, but no car. Plus, I only lived two blocks away from the school. Driving there and back would be overkill.

  My earbuds were safely in place, my Kelly Clarkson playlist ready to go, when I heard someone shout my name.

  If my parents had done their duty and named me something generic, I could have ignored the person and claimed I’d thought they were shouting for someone else.

  But my parents sucked and named me Elinora.

  Don’t get me wrong. I loved my name. And my parents. But it made me stick out on days I wanted to blend in.

  Luckily, everything else about me was average—average height, average weight, average boobs. I kept my straight brown hair shoulder length year-round. For either good or bad, no one did a double-take when I walked by. It was perfect.

  “Elinora!”

  With a sigh, I pulled out one earbud and spun around.

  Jacqueline Mercer, aka Jackie Meaner, was jogging toward me. Her nickname was stupid, but I hadn’t given it to her. She’d gotten it back in elementary school before I’d known her, and it had stuck all these years.

  “Tomahawk Tully” was all my doing, though, and I was proud of it. Even Tully said she’d liked it once I’d been brave enough to tell her. I had to make sure she wasn’t actually a serial killer before I’d dropped that bomb on her. Turned out her killing was strictly fictional.

  I switched on my public-nice smile when Jacqueline finally reached me. “Hey, Jacqueline.” All her friends called her Jackie, but she’d once told me she preferred Jacqueline, so I went with it. I hated when people shortened my name.

  She ran her fingers through her long brown hair, swishing it to the side. Two guys and a girl all paused to watch, causing Jacqueline to give her hair an extra shake. She had double-take ha
ir, and she owned it.

  “Are you free this Friday night?” she asked.

  I checked the calendar on my phone. I had a game night scheduled with the family, but Mom and Dad would be cool if I canceled. “I can be. Why?”

  She stepped in close, keeping her voice low. “I need another favor.”

  “If it involves overly chatty ladies at teatime, I’m out.”

  Jacqueline laughed, the musical sound making people turn toward us. She cleared her throat and waited for them to pass. “I’m sorry about last time, okay? I didn’t know I was taking you to hell on a crumpet.”

  My phone buzzed, and a message from my twelve-year-old brother popped up. He wanted to know where I was. We had a fort to build and Nerf guns to fire. I texted him as I talked to Jacqueline. “You’re forgiven. What is it this time?”

  “Dinner at the country club,” she said, her smile and tone overly charming.

  “That sounds like the same exact thing,” I said, putting my phone away. “A bunch of pompous, rich people talking about mundane things no one in the world cares about.”

  Jacqueline pouted. “Please, Elinora? You know I can’t bring any of my friends. My parents hate them.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe you should get new friends.”

  She stood on her tiptoes like my little sister did when she really wanted something. “Like you?”

  I backed away, moving toward home and creating some distance between us. “Yeah, pretty sure I’m busy Friday night. Something super crazy important to do.”

  She rushed to me, taking my hands in hers like we were long-lost bosom buddies. “I’ll pay you.”

  I arched an eyebrow. My clients never paid me. When it came to being a filler friend, all I asked was that they cover the cost of everything involved. “You’re that desperate?”

  “My brother was supposed to go, but he can’t. I don’t want to be alone with my parents. I don’t have your charm. They adore you, and it would take all the attention off me.”

  Lifting my arms, I held our clasped hands between us. “Dearest Jacqueline, you have so much charm. Four guys have passed out just walking past you during this conversation. You can survive your parents.”

  She yanked her hands from mine. “I don’t have the charm they want. Can we not have this debate right now?”

  My phone vibrated with another text from my brother. He was losing patience. So was I.

  She pulled forty dollars out of her pocket and handed it to me. “I’ll give you the same amount after dinner on Friday.”

  I stared at the cash in my hands. “You’re going to give me eighty dollars to go with you?”

  She huffed. “Fine. I’ll add another twenty. One hundred even.”

  That wasn’t what I’d meant, but it was a lot of money. Dad’s birthday was coming up, and I could get him something nice. I also really wanted her to shut up so I could get home. I tucked the money into my back pocket. “What time?”

  Jacqueline clapped her hands, a squeal escaping her. “Thank you! I’ll pick you up at six, and we can go back to my place to get you a dress, shoes, makeup—the works.” She looked me over. “Make that five o’clock.”

  I returned her clapping, trying to hold in the sarcasm. “Can’t wait!”

  With a bounce, she jogged to her hot pink BMW. I couldn’t believe she was that desperate to make her parents happy. She was hiding something from them, though I didn’t know what. The last time I was her filler friend, I’d told her to just tell her parents the truth, but she wouldn’t.

  I added the dinner to my calendar and walked home. So far the filler friend operation had been easy—simple tasks that didn’t require much effort on my part. When it came to the Mercer family, though, I had to turn on the charm. I was drained by the end of the night. Jacqueline was starting to become a regular client, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.

  The money in my pocket was nice, but something felt wrong. When I was a filler friend for free, I didn’t feel bad about it. There was nothing anyone could point to and say we weren’t real friends. But once money was added to the situation, suddenly there was a paper trail of my deceit.

  I hoped I hadn’t made the biggest mistake of my life by taking Jacqueline’s money. But deep inside, I knew I had.

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