The International Kissing Club

by Ivy Adams

  “What’s so funny about it? In case you haven’t noticed, Cassidy, I like you; I like having you around. And I’d help you if you wanted. If you’d let me.”

  Oh my God, she’d taken the seasickness patch off too soon. The boat had suddenly turned into a Tilt-A-Whirl and everything was topsy-turvy because Lucas couldn’t be serious. And if he was then …

  Oh my God.

  Oh my God.

  Oh my God.

  Cassidy couldn’t breathe, but Lucas was waiting for a response. This ride was coming to an end, and instead of letting her off safely, it had dumped her into the ocean. She scrambled for the only life preserver she could find.

  “I thought you don’t have any money—your parents do,” she said.

  “I don’t. But I could if it were really important to me.” Now she was slipping beneath the water and drowning.

  Panicked by the direction this conversation had taken, she turned away. Cassidy gripped the railing for dear life and stared out at the horizon, trying to regain her equilibrium. She was a state basketball champion, and she hadn’t gotten there without knowing how to stamp down her fear and focus on her goal. In this case: getting off this goddamn boat.

  Cassidy shut out everything—Lucas, the noise of the boat, the waves, the wind—and just breathed. And breathed. And breathed.

  These past weeks hanging out with Lucas had been the best time of her life. But moving here to be with him, putting all of her faith in him, letting him pay for her expenses—that was a level she wasn’t ready for. Not to mention, Cassidy could only imagine telling her mother that she was going to move to the other side of the world to be with a guy who would be paying for her college education. Talk about sending someone to an early grave—her mother’s head would spin like a hula hoop before shooting off across the room like a champagne cork.

  Not that the idea didn’t have some appeal, if she was being completely honest with herself. Why wouldn’t it? Life would be a lot easier if there really were white knights that rode to the rescue when a girl needed it. But Cassidy wasn’t that girl. She didn’t want charity. She could rescue herself, thank you very much.

  And grand gestures like the offer Lucas had just made were the sorts of things guys did when they wanted something from you. Not that she believed that about Lucas, but there had to be a better explanation for what he’d said than just that he liked having her around.

  Love?

  Where had that come from? Just thinking the word gave her a brain freeze. She liked Lucas more than any guy she’d ever known, but love … no, it was too soon and she was too young to be talking about that.

  Cassidy pulled away from Lucas. She took a breath to sort through her rambling, crazy thoughts. She was still Vacation Cassidy, remember? He was talking about University Cassidy. She wasn’t ready to open the box on that model yet. “That’s almost two years away. I can’t worry about it right now. I just want to focus on the four weeks I’ve got left here, okay? And you need to focus on surfing your ass off next weekend.”

  As soon as the words came out of her mouth she seized the idea. Surfing … yeah. He probably needed to practice in the coming week. And God knew she needed a little time to remember that Hot Guy and Monster Sailboat weren’t accessories that Vacation Cassidy got to keep when this trip was over.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other this week. Maybe we need a break.” Yes, that’s what they needed: breathing space.

  “A break?” His face fell, like she’d just stomped on his surfboard.

  “You know, so you’re not distracted. You’ll get more wave time this way.”

  “You’re not a distraction, Cass,” he argued, twirling a long springy curl of her hair around his finger.

  She scooted another foot away, out of his reach. “Well, you are. Not in a bad way, that’s the problem. I like being with you, too much. I could stand to put a bit more effort into my classes so I don’t have to repeat junior year. And all your energy needs to go into impressing those sponsors.”

  Lucas looked unconvinced. “That’s all this is about, your school and my surfing? Nothing else?”

  “Yes, Lucas, really. Nothing else.” Nothing else she wanted to talk to him about anyway.

  “This isn’t some crap excuse because you want to get more points for that stupid kissing club?”

  Cassidy laughed out loud. Jeez, guys could be so insecure, even really cute ones. “No. I promise that’s not the reason.” She scooted back toward him, playfully punching his arm. “And don’t knock the IKC, dude. It’s the whole reason we started kissing in the first place.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Reason? That was just an excuse. But you’re still coming with me next Saturday, yeah?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it, Lucas. And it’s only six days. It’ll be over before we know it.”

  Six days would be a cakewalk. Just long enough for her to get her head—and her heart—back on straight.

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  Where the hell was he?

  Six torturous days later, Cassidy stood on the beach at North Narrabeen Point, outside Sydney, shifting from foot to foot, adjusting and readjusting her watchband, pulling her hair into a ponytail, then taking it back down.

  “Are you okay, Cassidy?” Kara, Lucas’s sister, asked.

  “What? Sure, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  She laughed. “Nothing. You seem a bit twitchy, that’s all.”

  “Oh, sorry, that’s the double espresso I had before you picked me up,” she fibbed. She couldn’t tell Kara the real reason she was acting like she’d missed a dose of Ritalin: she’d spent last night waiting, watching the moon cross the sky, instead of sleeping. At all.

  When Lucas had called her to say good night, Cassidy had wanted to crawl through the phone. Turned out, not seeing Lucas was a much bigger distraction than seeing him ever could be.

  Stupid, stupid break.

  God, she’d wasted a whole week not being with him, and now she had only three more left until she went back home.

  Lucas had asked Kara to bring her today because he’d had to get here so early. When the poor girl had shown up at Mrs. Gatwick’s, Cassidy was waiting on the stoop and had practically launched herself into the car before Kara came to a full stop.

  The crowd was already thick on the beach when they’d arrived. Vendor tents lined the high ground, and you could barely walk without tripping over a surfboard. Cassidy scanned up and down the sand, her breath catching every time she thought she spotted Lucas’s wavy blond hair among the other surfers.

  “Hey, girls, you made it,” she heard his out-of-breath voice call. Cassidy whirled to see him coming up from the water’s edge several yards away, carrying his shortboard under his arm. Her heart started hop-skipping around in her chest and she ran what had to be her record best in the fifty-yard dash. Lucas barely had enough time to drop the board and catch her as she jumped onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck, not caring that she was getting soaked to the skin. Good thing he was so strong, because any other guy would have been knocked to the ground by her body slam.

  “Jesus, I’ve missed you,” he said before he set her down and kissed her. She kissed him back like she was using the air from his lungs to breathe, and she kept kissing him beyond the point of good taste, until the wolf whistles and heckling got too loud to ignore.

  A throat cleared next to them. “Can I get a hug and kiss, as well, li’l man? Only not like that one,” Kara teased. Lucas shifted away from Cassidy just long enough to greet his sister, but it seemed way too long for Cass. She wanted him all to herself.

  “The first heat’s about to begin. You two should go get seats in the stands.” Lucas pulled her against him again and smiled. God, that little dimple had haunted her dreams for the past week. “A kiss for good luck?”

  She gave him a quick peck on
the lips. “That’s for luck,” she said, casting an impish grin when he looked disappointed. “The one for winning, well … you’ll have to win to find out, won’t you?”

  So, Lucas did just that.

  And after the finals, he waded through all the well-wishers to find her waiting with Kara at the front of the stands. She was almost gushing—okay, yes, she was gushing—with happiness for him.

  He gazed up at her, his honey-colored eyes shining. “Hey, American girl, I believe I was promised a kiss for winning. Pay up.”

  Cassidy bent over the aluminum rail to reach him. “I believe you’ve earned all the kisses you can handle, Lucas McCann,” she said before granting his prize.

  Oh, this had gone way past dangerous—she’d taken the corner around dangerous at a reckless speed and gone off into the abyss.

  Who cared if she was drowning? There were so many worse ways to go than this.

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  Messages

  Between Piper and Izzy:

  Piper

  I need help. I think I really screwed up.

  Izzy

  What happened?

  Piper

  What does it say about me that I accidentally kissed a guy I barely know!

  Izzy

  It’s not you. Others have done far worse than accidental kissing. We know you’re fabulous.

  Piper

  Why does everyone keep saying that? Is that code for “You’re so pathetic we can’t tell you the truth”?

  Izzy

  No. It’s code for men are stupid, effing idiots. Believe me. I know.

  Piper

  Is Linc giving you a hard time?

  Izzy

  He is the least of my worries … But no kissing action here. I’ll leave it at that. Btw, thanks for the chocolates. They’re a great substitute.

  Piper

  I’d send you a French guy if I could.

  Izzy

  Back to you … Does the new point you posted refer to the “accident”?

  Piper

  I told you I screwed up. I was colossally stupid. I really screwed the pooch.

  Izzy

  Please tell me there wasn’t an actual dog involved! Just kidding. Trying to lighten the mood.

  Piper

  Should I tell Sebastian?

  Izzy

  God, no. Just try to gloss over it. What Sebastian doesn’t know won’t hurt him. As long as it didn’t mean anything.

  Piper

  Oh God, no. In fact, I think I deserve negative points. Can I take it back?

  Izzy

  Don’t worry, no one will hold it against you.

  Izzy

  I really miss you, Pipes.

  Piper

  I miss you, too, but I gotta go. Simone is taking me to a show at Le Moulin Rouge. Thanks for the advice.

  Chapter 19

  Izzy

  After seven weeks of eating lunch basically alone, Izzy had thought she was used to it. For the first few days, she’d put an inordinate amount of thought into where to sit. One table over was where the stoners sat—not that there were many of them in Paris, but every school had some. By the back entrance was a row of tables where all the 4-H types ate. Since she’d gone vegetarian to reduce her carbon footprint, she didn’t exactly have a lot in common with them. Near the door, the hardcore geeks congregated. Then along the east wall sat the trio of tables where Germaine held court. In the far west corner sat the now empty table she’d shared with Piper, Mei, and Cassidy for the past two years. She hadn’t been able to face sitting there alone.

  In the end, she’d followed Mei’s advice and sat with the debate nerds and mathletes. Of course, she meant that with a great deal of affection. They were the only clique that had been welcoming at all. But as friendly as they were, they weren’t really her friends. They had their own lingo, their own set of inside jokes. So she sat at the end of their table, keeping the illusion of being part of a group, without really being part of it.

  Armed with her insulated bag full of hummus, olives, and pita bread in one hand and her battered copy of Al Gore’s Earth in the Balance in the other, she dragged herself to the cafeteria, determined to hold her head high as she claimed her new spot on the fringes of geekdom. She’d tried to keep up with the conversation, until they’d started arguing the top ten episodes of Battlestar Galactica.

  Izzy had just unearthed her bookmark from the tome when she saw Germaine’s evil minions slithering by on their way to the royal dais. The wolves were circling again. Rosemary tittered as she passed. Izzy just gritted her teeth and focused on the fact that the earth had it a lot worse than she did. But just as she was starting to read her book, someone paused by her table.

  Izzy tried not to notice, pretending to be engrossed in reading. When the person didn’t budge, she finally looked up. Germaine the Lame. Why wasn’t she surprised?

  Germaine smiled. “I hope you’re not mad about my teasing last weekend out at Tanner’s farm.”

  Suspicious, Izzy searched Germaine’s perfect features for the near permanent sneer of disdain. For once, it was absent. Suddenly even more nervous, Izzy muttered, “I—”

  “Tanner thought I might have hurt your feelings.” Then she gave her annoying trilling laugh, even though there was nothing funny about what she’d said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Izzy said quickly, wanting the conversation to end. If Tanner had put Germaine up to this, she was going to kill him. Why did Invisabel Isabel have to slip out from under the radar now?

  “Thanks!” Germaine’s smile broadened. “You know, you should come sit with us.”

  “With you?” Izzy stilled.

  “Sure.” Germaine gave her arm a little tug. “Pack up your lunch and come sit at our table.”

  Michaela had stopped a few feet behind Germaine. Now she stood with her mouth gaping open like one of the fake fish people mounted on their walls.

  “I don’t th—”

  “Come on,” Germaine coaxed. “What else are you going to do, sit here by yourself for three more weeks? Al Gore hasn’t written that many books, you know.”

  Wait a second. Not only was Germaine being civil, but she was also familiar with Al Gore’s books? And she knew who Al Gore was? And what books were?

  Germaine’s eyes held a note of apparent sympathy. What was the world coming to?

  But that was it, wasn’t it? There wasn’t a genuine bone in Germaine’s scrawny body. If she was acting nice, she had her own motives. No way was Izzy going to trust her. But she’d read Machiavelli: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

  Her friends were pretty far away, but Germaine was right here.

  “Well, okay, I guess.” Izzy put the lid on her hummus and slid everything back into the bag.

  A few steps later, Izzy stopped, halfway between her lonely spot at the geek table and the royalty up on the dais.

  Was she really about to do this? Was she really going to throw herself in the path of Germaine the … Oh, she couldn’t think of a pithy rhyming insult. Cassidy was best at those. But Cassidy was off flirting with hot surfers. Damn her.

  Germaine glanced back over her shoulder when she realized Izzy wasn’t following. The expression of confusion was understandable. Most of Germaine’s sheep wouldn’t dream of dawdling.

  Germaine walked back over to where Izzy stood in the middle of the cafeteria. Izzy glanced away. Though the lunchroom was crowded with hungry students, the seats closest to them were empty and the noise level was high enough that a rhino could have charged through and no one would have noticed.

  “Thanks for the invitation”—Izzy had meant to infuse her voice with sarcasm, but somehow that got lost under a hint of genuine gratitude—“but I can’t come sit with you.”

  She couldn’t sit with Piper’s sworn enemy.

  Germaine d
idn’t pretend to misunderstand. She nodded, something almost like regret settling onto her face. She turned back to her throne but paused, then came back to Izzy.

  “Have you really thought about what you’re doing?” she asked.

  The words were precisely the kind of thing Germaine always said, but instead of her normally scornful tone, she sounded sincere.

  “This rivalry between Piper and me has gotten out of hand,” Germaine continued. “I never meant for things to go so far.”

  “But they did.” Izzy’s hand convulsed on her insulated lunch bag. Cassidy would have punched Germaine out by now. But Izzy couldn’t even muster the indignation she knew she should feel. “You destroyed her life.”

  “She’s done plenty of things to me, too.”

  “Yeah, just stupid shit,” Izzy commented. “Like the beet juice in the tanning lotion.”

  “Or the time she filled our Chapstick tubes with glue sticks,” Germaine countered. “That could have killed us.”

  “No it couldn’t,” Izzy scoffed. “Glue sticks are nontoxic.” That one had been her idea. And she’d confirmed it before buying the glue.

  “Well, it tasted really gross. But then, of course you’re going to side with her. You always do.”

  “Yes, I do. She’s my friend.”

  “You were my friend once, too.” And with that, Germaine swung away, leaving Izzy alone again, staring after her in confusion.

  Germaine had sounded genuinely hurt. And had those been tears in her eyes? Tears? She’d always thought the Wicked Witch of the West would melt when she came in contact with water.

  “Wait a second—” Izzy trotted after Germaine, catching her at the base of the stage. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Germaine brushed at something near her face. “When Piper and I had our big fight, you and Mei and Cassidy all sided with her.”

  “Well, yeah, we—”

  “You never even heard my side of the story.” Again there was that glisten of something in Germaine’s eyes. Perhaps she wasn’t a soulless turkey buzzard, after all?

  “I never knew you had a side,” Izzy admitted.

  She’d been away that whole summer. Piper and Germaine had gone off to art camp for the month of July in Dallas and had some big blow up. Izzy had asked her parents to send her to the same summer camp, but instead they’d shipped her off to a dude ranch in Oklahoma for eleven weeks—to get her out of the way so they could concentrate on Linc and Shane. That one-child-per-parent ratio worked better for her mom and dad.