Dramatically Ever After

by Isabel Bandeira

  He aimed his spoon at my mouth and wiggled it in front of me until I leaned forward and took a bite. The part of me that wasn’t getting all swoony over the cuteness realized that gummy bears and frozen custard really were an awesome combination.

  “Eat your non-starving actor food and let me talk,” he said. When I silently raised my eyebrow at him and waited, he dropped his spoon on the tray. “It’s about Boston.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “If you’re going to make this hard for me, I can just stop and go back to eating this culinary masterpiece.” Kris looked frustrated and tried to push back his hair, which didn’t stay thanks to the lack of gel.

  I mimed zipping my lips shut and sat up straight, trying to look innocent.

  After smiling at my goofiness, he grew serious again, his expression making my own smile melt away in a puddle of dread. “Was it an act?” I tilted my head in confusion as he continued. “The whole thing between us in the museum and at the dinner? Because I know what you said after you kissed me, but I think something was already going on between us way before that.”

  I dropped my gaze to the table. Kris’ straightforward way of talking was refreshing after all the games with Wil and every other guy I’d dated, but it was also frustrating. The strangest part of it all was that he made me want to be just as honest and clear. “It started out that way.”

  He reached across the table and, with two fingers, pushed up my chin so our eyes met again. “What does that mean?”

  Instead of squirming, I decided to turn the tables on him. “Was that really you back in Boston? You didn’t act like yourself.”

  “Maybe you finally spent enough time around me to see the real me and not just the person you always thought I was. Honestly, going into this, I thought you were a spoiled drama queen who bossed around her friends, but I was wrong.” A little smile escaped from him at the offended sound that came out of me, but it disappeared just as fast. “Still, you didn’t answer my question. What did you mean when you said it started out that way?”

  “I thought you were acting like that just to throw me off my game. You know, act all nice, make me feel like I was nuts for thinking otherwise, maybe make me fall for you and then, bam, crush me right before I have to compete.”

  “If I was planning that, your ex-boyfriend beat me to it. Great judge of character, Em.”

  “Don’t start being a jerk,” I said. He imitated my earlier action, zipping his own lips, and I continued, “So, I thought I’d beat you at your own game. I started flirting and playing nice with you, too.”

  “It wasn’t my perfect smile that drew you to me?”

  I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile, and shook my head. “That smile used to irritate the living hell out of me. Honestly, I think things started changing when we hung out on Sunday morning, but I really didn’t want to believe it.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose and dragged the next few words out. Once I said them, I’d have no way to save myself if he really didn’t feel the same as I did. “I lied, back in the hallway. I kissed you because I wanted to, not because you were the closest hot guy.”

  “We’ll get back to the fact that you think I’m hot in a minute.” His spoon tapped against the edge of his bowl but his expression didn’t budge. Not even on the “hot” part. “Do you seriously mean to say that you were planning to, what, make me fall for you and then break my heart right before we competed or something?”

  “I know, not the best plan, but I never said I was a psychological ninja.”

  He went back to eating his sundae, the annoying superior look on his face again. “That’s pretty obvious.” His eyes met mine. “When was it still an act? The rotunda?”

  I refused to look away, holding his gaze with an expression as serious as death, even though my heart rate was going through the roof. I could hear my heartbeat like the timpani in band. “No. That was real. You?”

  “Real. Was that why you freaked out after…” He waved his spoon about, and a faint blush just tinged his cheeks.

  “Yeah. Need I remind you I thought I was going to be getting back together with my ex at that point. I might be diabolical, but I’m not awful. But you kind of short-circuited my common sense for a little while.”

  “That’s flattering, coming from the legendary Ephemie Katsaros.”

  “Seriously, keep calling me by that name and you’ll be wearing that sundae.”

  “Too bad. It’s a cute name. I think it fits you perfectly, Ephemie.”

  I reached playfully for his sundae and he caught my hand. A thrill ran up my arm and my heartbeat jumped up even more in tempo.

  “Not fair,” I managed to squeak out. Any flirtiness flew out of my head and I really did feel like this was the first time a boy had ever held my hand. “You’re trying to short-circuit me again.”

  “If you like me,” his thumb ran back and forth over the back of my hand and made me shiver, “or at least think I’m hot,” I let out an eep sound, but he continued, “and if I like you, even though you tried to play psychological war with me, and your ex-boyfriend is now definitely an ex, then why are we avoiding each other like the conference didn’t even happen?”

  My brain finally started working again and I rotated my wrist to turn the tables on him. Now, I was the one running a finger, whisper-soft, across his palm. I smiled when his eyes shut involuntarily. “It’s like West Side Story and I’m Maria to your Tony. From two different worlds…”

  His eyes shot open and he laughed, breaking the spell between us. “Okay, now you’re being ridiculous. Student council and the drama club aren’t the Sharks and the Jets.” Part of me warmed even more at the fact that he made a musical theatre reference. Kris stood and pulled me to standing so that we were practically toe-to-toe in the abandoned patio. “Now that we’ve figured out there aren’t going to be turf wars if we date, what do we do now?”

  I stepped closer and rose onto my tiptoes, reaching my face up to his. “If I remember right, you made the first move at the museum, I made the second at the dinner, so isn’t it your turn again?” At this distance, I couldn’t tell if it was the heat coming off his body or my own blush that overheated me.

  He bent forward so his mouth nearly brushed mine. He was so close his breath tickled my lips. “I don’t know. I hugged you after the competition. Does that count?”

  I snaked my free hand up his arm and shoulder to wrap around his neck. He visibly caught his breath and his lips parted the tiniest bit as my fingers traveled up, and I smiled my best Lauren Bacall-esque smile at his reaction.

  “That wasn’t a hug, it was an awkward arm pat,” I said, tangling my fingers in the hairs at the base of his head and pulling him even closer. We were just millimeters apart.

  “If you’re going to argue—” He pretended to start pulling away, then, with a smile, closed the gap between us, catching me off-guard. At first the kiss was desperate, like we were making up for all the time lost between the competition and that moment. It was one of those amazing kisses you see in the movies. Epic. I went from live wire to floating and back to electric, like my body was nothing but energy that concentrated everywhere his skin touched mine. The cold and sweet of the ice cream I tasted on him contrasted with the fire that rose up between us.

  His free arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me tight against him, trapping our linked hands between our bodies. My legs turned to mush and his arm, along with the magnetic pull between us, were the only things keeping me from melting to the floor.

  I broke the kiss by barely moving enough to say against the corner of his mouth, “What were you saying about arguing?” My voice sounded floaty and soft. No kiss had ever done that to me before.

  He let go of my hand to cup my cheek with his palm. “This is the only way I can think to keep you from fighting with me.” His thumb drew tiny circles under my ear, distracting me.

  Payback was sweet and I used my free hand to trace his bottom lip before replacing my fingers with a tea
sing kiss. “I like the way you think. Let’s go with that.” He tried to kiss me again but I playfully pulled back and touched my nose to his. “This doesn’t mean I’m going to campaign for you or anything.”

  “Elections were over a month ago. But that’s okay, because I’m not coming to your orchestra concerts. The CIA should look into those as a valid form of torture.”

  He tried to tug me into another kiss but I pouted and turned my head so his lips landed on the edge of my jaw. While I talked, he trailed feather-light kisses back towards my mouth. “You’re mean.”

  Kris laughed. “I’m honest. And I honestly,”—he picked up my hand again, brought it between us, and kissed it before leading me over to a bench—“am happy we figured this out. Because another month of what had been going on would have killed me.”

  “Hmm,” I said, then tangled my fingers in his, let my eyes grow wide, and said, “I think I feel a fight coming on again. Want to stop it in its tracks?”

  “Good idea.” Kris lowered his head and pressed his lips to mine. And everything was perfect.

  It was just us and the twinkle lights and the stars.

  I peeled the wrapper off a cupcake and took a bite, making a face as the heavy chocolate-pecan-coconut combination hit me. That taste was an all-too-familiar reminder of something I seriously wanted to forget. “Ugh, German chocolate. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat that or Black Forest anything for a long time.” I scanned the bake sale table for something that looked non-German, which was tough because, damn, they made great desserts. One of Phoebe’s chocolate sugary things had to be safe—at least they were from a Brazilian recipe.

  I’d stashed my purse under the table when I showed up for my shift at the bake sale and Phoebe now reached into it to pull five dollars out of my wallet. She added it to her money tin. “You can’t let an ex-boyfriend turn you off an entire country,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  “Oh, no? Watch me.” I tossed the barely eaten cupcake into the trash can behind me, doing a little dance at the fact that it landed inside on the first try. “See? Two points for me.”

  Phoebe scrunched up her nose. “You know, you could have given that to a football player instead of wasting it. One of those guys would’ve eaten it.”

  A familiar hottie passed our table and I reached out to grab the strap hanging from his backpack. Instead of reeling in my catch like I was tempted to, I waited for him to notice my tugging.

  “Wouldn’t you like to buy something sweet from someone sweet? It’s for a good cause.” I waved dramatically at the Noelle’s Song banner the musical theatre club had draped on the long cafeteria table.

  Kris grinned as he freed his backpack from my grip. “But Phoebe’s busy.” He jerked his chin towards where she was trying to convince some of the guys from the chess club to buy the entire plate of chess squares. “Besides, I usually don’t do bake sales.” He made a show of studying everything on the table. “They’re a little inefficient, you know?”

  My eyebrows arched up and I tilted my chin superiorly. “You’ll be happy to know that in three lunch periods, we’ve already raised enough to get twenty beginner practice books for the program. How’s that for inefficient?”

  “Ask me after the gala next week. It might get a little more media coverage than the school paper.” He crossed his arms, imitating my pose. “You’re coming, right?”

  I shrugged, trying to look noncommittal. “Only if you buy something.”

  “Blackmail. I like it. You’re learning, Katsaros.” Kris leaned over the table until we were less than a breath apart. My gaze dropped right to his mouth and I took a shallow breath, trying to come up with a witty response. I swore at that moment all the chocolates on the table had to be melting.

  Phoebe cleared her throat, pulling my chair back with both hands. “PDA,” she said uncomfortably under her breath “You don’t want to get written up by the lunch monitors.”

  “You’re so cute,” I said to her, then ignored everything she said and leaned forward to give Kris a kiss that ranked on suspension level for public displays of affection. I turned back to her when none of the teachers came our way, knowing I had to have a goofy grin on my face. “There are perks to dating the student council president, you know.”

  “I doubt not getting in trouble for PDA is one of those perks,” she pointed out.

  Kris shrugged. “She’s very good at corrupting me. But, ignoring the PDA thing, can I steal Em away for a few minutes?”

  Even though I was tempted to jump up and into his arms, I looked from Phoebe to him, a wicked little smile spreading across my lips as a plan hit me. “That’ll cost you extra. I think buying a whole cake or plate of cookies might cover that and the gala.”

  Phoebe nudged me with her elbow. “I always said you two were exactly alike.”

  “Mercenary and giving at the same time, right?” I gave her my best “evil queen trying to look benevolent” look.

  “As long as we use our powers only for good, I think the world could use us.” He pulled a ten out of his pocket and handed it to Phoebe. Sweeping up a blueberry crumb cake with one hand and catching my hand with the other, he pulled me away from the table. “Thanks, Phoebe. I’ll have her back in a minute.” As we wove through the crowded lunchroom, he paused to drop the cake off at the table where our school’s quarterback sat. “Save me a slice, okay?” Then, he kept going, pulling me through the school’s double doors and out into the courtyard.

  The student council table outside was deserted. I extracted my hands from his to pull the sleeves of my sweater down to cover my hands and wrap my arms around myself. “So? What’s so important that you’ll pull me away from my new favorite charity?”

  “Well, first,” he gently untangled my arms and placed them around his waist, then bent over to catch me off-guard with a kiss. All of my goosebumps disappeared as a new set of shivers that had nothing to do with cold fluttered across my skin. Kris ran his thumb over my cheek, then said, “I’m just taking advantage of a student council perk.” He sat on the table’s stone bench and I let him pull me alongside him as he draped his arm over my shoulder.

  I leaned in, soaking up his warmth. “Yeah, it’s so nice of them. You can freeze your asses outside if you want. Or get soaked in the rain. Or burn to a crisp for the other, like, two months of the year.”

  “Well, you know us student politics types. We’re tough, unlike certain weak artsy people.” He punctuated his comment by pulling me closer to him.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Keep insulting me and you’ll have to buy another cake if you want artsy arm candy at that gala.”

  “Then I guess I won’t tell you my good news.” Crap. There was that innocent look again. If he started looking off to the side and whistling, I was going to elbow him.

  Instead, I slipped icy cold fingers under his shirt and against the small of his back. I suppressed a giggle when he first cringed away, then grew incredibly still. I nudged him with my shoulder to get him to focus again. “Which is?”

  Kris reached back and grabbed my hand, pulling it away from his back. “I was in Mr. MacKenzie’s office—”

  “You really are such a kiss-ass.”

  He put his index fingers against my lips. “Shh. Like I was saying, I was in his office and overheard them talking about another speech writing competition that’s opening up in a few weeks. The scholarship money sounds decent, too.”

  He had me at “scholarship.” Anything that would close the gap between being indebted forever to student loans and just scraping by automatically made my radar. I sat up straighter and looked him right in the eye. “What’s the speech supposed to be about?”

  “I’m not sure, but does it matter? We’re awesome.” His eyes lit up and the corners of his lips quirked up in an almost-smile that looked a little conspiratorial.

  “Right. If it’s about something like the importance of sports in an academic setting, you’re not the best advocate for it. Now, me, with my abundance of exposure
to football players and cheerleaders and an archery person—”

  “Excuse me, but thanks to being forced to spend time with your friends, I’m more sensitive to the needs of our athletic department. I’m incredibly well-rounded. Let me remind you that I gave Mike and the guys my cake.” He pointed at the cafeteria windows in the general direction of the jock table.

  “You’re so altruistic.” I grew serious and turned my head so I looked directly into his eyes. “I don’t know if I want to compete against you again.” The thought terrified me. This was the first time I’d ever felt this strongly about anyone, and putting our relationship to the test so early on was like pouring acid on a base in chemistry class. Things were bound to go explosive in ways I didn’t want to explore.

  Even for another scholarship. Meanwhile, the commonsense and competitive parts of me wanted to slap me for being so idiotic about it all. Boys came and went, but scholarships that helped me realize my dreams didn’t just pop up all the time.

  But I really, really liked this boy.

  Kris seemed to notice something was off and reached up to smooth his hand over my hair. He’d learned quickly that running his fingers through my curls meant stuck fingers and me complaining about frizz the rest of the day. “Hey, it’s just a competition. It’s not going to affect us.” On “us,” he kissed my forehead. “We’re stronger than that. I promise.”

  I pressed my lips together. “I know you and I really know me. We get a little cutthroat, especially against each other.”

  Instead of denying it, like I’d expected, he nodded, his expression incredibly serious. “That’s why we should do this again. You make me work to do better than my best if I want to beat you. We raise the bar for each other. Plus, you get all flirty when you want to beat me.”

  My smile reappeared in spite of my reluctance. “I’ll have to change my tactics, then. Keep you on your toes.” The thought of standing up on a stage again, giving a speech, made a thrill run through me. It was more fun and energizing than I’d thought, like nailing a character on the first read-through. “Maybe I’ll ignore you this time. You know, a ‘no-kiss’ pact or something.”