Stuck With You (First Kiss Hypothesis)

by Christina Mandelski

  I don’t know.

  Probably.

  I’m really good at not overthinking things. I just go with it, usually. But man, lately all I’m doing is thinking too much.

  It’s enough already. I push a hand through my hair and avert my eyes from Catie’s body, where they meet Sunny’s. She’s caught me staring.

  I reach for another donut. They are definitely not drugged. “Y’all get ready. We leave by ten,” I tell them then whistle for Mo to go for a walk, closing the door behind us.

  Mo races down the stairs and immediately pees on our patch of grass. It’s Sunday morning, but not at all quiet in the neighborhood. The vacationers tend to get up early, towing their kids down to the water before the day gets too hot, dragging them down to the sand in wagons or on golf carts. I attach Mo’s collar so none of them yell at me for having him off leash.

  The tide is low, and the water still as a mirror, reflecting the clear blue sky above. Not one cloud in it, just blue as far as I can see.

  The beach is already crowded—a minefield of umbrellas and folding chairs and plastic sand toys. I lead Mo south where there are some wild dunes and fewer people. Once we’re away from most of the crowd, I let him off leash and pick up a piece of driftwood, which he pants for me to throw.

  “All right, boy,” I laugh, wishing girls were as easy to understand as dogs. I fling the wood as far as I can and notice a small group of people in the dunes. They’ve got a dog with them, too—a black lab who immediately catches Mo’s attention. He brings me the stick first, though, because he knows who is in charge.

  “Mo, stay,” I say, but then that dog barks, and Mo pretends I don’t exist. Knows who’s in charge, my ass. I run after him, not knowing how these people are going to react to having a giant, lumbering, multicolored dog running up on them.

  But when I get there, Mo’s already been welcomed and is busy sniffing their dog’s butt.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, y’all.” I snap my fingers at my bad dog, who continues to ignore me.

  “No problem,” an older man says. He’s with three guys and a girl who looks about my age. They’re not out here for a good time at the beach, though, that much I can tell. They all have notebooks with them and raise their heads briefly in greeting. “Otis is getting bored with our research.” The man nods at the lab.

  I notice he’s wearing a T-shirt that says “Texas A&M Galveston.”

  “You here on vacation?” the man asks. The others—students, maybe?—eye me.

  “Uh, yeah, sort of? We own a house just up the beach.” I catch one of the guys rolling his eyes. I probably shouldn’t have said it like that. I can see he thinks I’m a douchebag, though the girl is smiling at me big. I go ahead and smile back because it would be awkward not to.

  “This area was all but wiped out during Ike,” the man says, one pointed eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah.” I nod. “Our house was gone. All that was left was the toilet.” The group chuckles, maybe warming up to me? “We rebuilt. Hopefully this one will last.”

  The man lifts a finger. “Ah, that’s exactly what we’re out here studying. Learning about the best ways to protect the peninsula, the harbor, Galveston. These are some of my Ocean Engineering students.”

  “Oh. Hey,” I say and lift a hand. They each nod, but I can tell they want me to disappear so their professor will stop talking to me and get on with their class.

  “Yes,” he says. “Maybe you’ve heard about the proposal to build a dike to help keep back the storm surge when it happens again? Our shoreline is slowly disappearing, you know. Hopefully the project will get all the funding needed sooner rather than later because it will happen again.”

  His words settle in my ears and something happens—a little flicker, like a really dim lightbulb, flips on in my brain.

  “Ocean Engineering? That’s a thing?”

  “Indeed, it is.” The man chuckles. “If you want your family home to stand for longer than the next major hurricane, it’s a very important thing. You in school?”

  “Just graduated high school,” I say, scratching my head. “I’m about to start college.”

  “Aha. Fresh meat.” He laughs, and his students do, too.

  “You might want to run away now,” the girl says, “before you get recruited.”

  I laugh just to play along, but what I’d really like to do is ask this guy some more questions.

  “Where are you going to school?” he asks.

  “Oh. In Florida. FCU.”

  “And your major?”

  “Business,” I say. The word feels like deadweight coming out of my mouth.

  He nods. “Well, if you want to know about what we’re doing to protect your home here, check out the website.” He picks a business card out of his front pocket and hands it to me. “You have any questions, feel free to shoot me an email.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks.” I take a look at the card as he starts his lesson up again. The professor points to the structure of the beach house behind him and starts to talk engineering. I back away and call to Mo, who doesn’t want to leave his new buddy.

  I flip the card in my hand. Henry Jackson, PhD. Ocean Engineering. I’ve never heard of it. It sounds interesting.

  Mo barks at me, and I attach his leash.

  “No,” I say to him. “Don’t get any ideas. We have a plan—business and lacrosse—and we’re sticking with it. And you, son, are a bad dog.”

  When he gives me his “sorry” face, I roll my eyes. “Come on,” I say to him, dragging him away.

  And that light that just flickered on in my head?

  I switch it off.

  Chapter Eight

  Catie

  I’m still flat on my back on the sofa.

  “Y’all go ahead,” I say to my friends. “I think I’m just gonna hang around here.”

  It feels safer to stay, given the weirdness between Caleb and me. There is something happening—I think. Or not. I’m not sure. It is likely all in my mind, which is terrible. I spent so many years crushing on him. Can’t go back there. Won’t go back there.

  “Catie,” Ainsley yells from the kitchen. “You are coming with us! I’m going to get my suit on, and you bitches better do the same!”

  “No!” I shout like a spoiled kid.

  I feel weight down on the end by my feet. I move my arm off of my eyes and see Sunny watching me in her quiet, knowing way.

  “What?” I ask.

  Her perfect eyebrows lift as she twirls a curl around her finger. She shakes her head. “What’s going on with you and him?”

  I can’t fool her—she knows my history with Caleb—so I don’t even try. “Sun.” I sit up and scoot back into the corner cushion. “First of all, don’t worry. I’m fine. But last night, I might have let some…feelings surface.” I search her eyes. She’s a straight talker and will give me the advice I need.

  “Really?” she asks. “I assume you’re not talking about that frat boy?”

  I inhale deep and breathe out loud and long, and I stare at the ceiling. “It’s just temporary insanity. I’m not falling for him again. Obviously he has zero interest in me. Plus”—I scratch an itch on my cheek—“he doesn’t even live here.”

  Sunny leans in. “So if he lived closer, you’d go for it?”

  “What? No!” I purposely lower my voice. Ainsley does not need to be catching wind of this conversation. Not that I don’t trust her, but I already know what her advice would be: a very concise JUMP HIM.

  I close my eyes and groan softly. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Mmm,” Sunny says, never taking her eyes off me. “Nothing’s wrong with you. He’s a nice guy, and you’d have to be an asexual fern not to think he was attractive.”

  I cover my face with a pillow and want to scream into it. When I pull it away, she’s still staring at me with that knowing simper of hers.

  “I wish I was a fern, then!” I make my voice even lower. “It’s so embarrassing. Me, always following after him,
even in high school, waiting around for him to notice me—and he never liked me. Never! Now I’m finally over him, then I dance with him once, and I’m instantly sucked in again?! What’s wrong with me? I’m stupid!”

  She shakes her head. “No, you are not. You know what?” she says. “People change. You thought of that? You’ve moved on and grown—maybe he has, too. I don’t think you’re stupid. I think maybe he’s gotten smart.” She clears her throat and glances toward the kitchen, where Ainsley has started up the blender. “He’s changed, Cay,” she says. “Haven’t you noticed the way he acts around you? He’s trying to keep his cool, and he isn’t succeeding, girl. I’ve caught him staring at you more than once.”

  I don’t buy it, even though he was definitely staring at my lips during that dance, like he wanted to do something with them—or to them.

  “Just a coincidence. That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “No, you’re wrong!” she says. “I mean he’s staring at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. And I swear I thought he was gonna rip Sterling’s throat out of his neck when he started getting mouthy about the donuts.” She smacks my leg, stretched out in front of her. “I think you’re getting to him.”

  I wince. “You mean annoying him.”

  She laughs. “No, I mean getting to him, like in here,” she points to her head. “And in here.” She points to her heart. “And also down there, too, but we won’t talk about that right now. You know, I always thought he was a total jerk for how he treated you. But…”

  “But what?”

  She shrugs. “Like I said, people change. And to be honest, you can be a very persistent person.” She grins. “You don’t really know how to take no for an answer. Maybe that’s not what he wanted. Maybe the timing wasn’t right. Maybe things are different now.”

  I shake my head. “Maybe you’re wrong about all of it, and I’m just setting myself up for humiliation. Again. What if deep down I still bug the crap out of him?”

  She smiles and reaches out for my hand. “Then he’s an idiot.”

  I shake my head again, so scared to let myself think of him that way. “No. This isn’t happening. It’s impossible.”

  She shrugs. “With love, anything is possible.”

  “Isn’t that with God anything is possible, preacher’s daughter?” I nudge her with my foot.

  She laughs. “Sure. But I’m pretty sure God doesn’t mind if I jack with his quotes ever so slightly. I know He made a fine specimen when He came up with that boy.”

  I close my eyes and push back my hair. “This would be a lot easier if he wasn’t…”

  “Hot as hell?”

  I growl and push her harder with my foot until she falls off the sofa and gets on her feet, laughing all the way down the hall to the bedroom.

  “Come on, sister,” she yells back to me. “Get your suit on. We got places to go!”

  But I don’t go, not right away.

  I stay put for a few more minutes, remembering the meeting that we had last fall with Caleb and his parents when they decided to open the branch in Florida. Our parents make us go to all the important meetings since they consider Caleb and, especially, me the heirs apparent of the firm. They always wanted us involved and weighing in.

  It was the beginning of Caleb’s senior year, and my parents offered to have him live with us until graduation. I saw him glance at me when that was proposed. What did that glance mean? He later said no and that he was going to go ahead and move to Florida. Even though I had a boyfriend at the time—Darren—I couldn’t help but feel rejected.

  I was glad he left. I really was.

  Now I have no idea what is happening. Forget the fact that I didn’t run away from home this weekend to get my heart stuck on Caleb Gray again. I’m here to work through my own issues.

  The clock chimes on the wall. It’s ten. Caleb will be back soon and expect us to be ready. I should tell them all that I’m not feeling well and insist they go without me. Maybe then I’ll have some time to figure out what I’m doing with my life, because honestly, I do not have a clue, and this whole trip is about to be a waste. I cradle my head in my hands and squeeze.

  The front door opens, and I look up. Caleb is there, his shirt removed, Mo at his side.

  For God’s sake, put some clothes on, man.

  He is drop-dead gorgeous, but I immediately look away, snapping my head to my phone screen, determined to play it cool.

  “Hey,” he says, closing the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I say with more attitude than I mean. I swing my legs off the sofa and onto the floor. “I’m fine.”

  Mo runs up to me, wet and sandy, leaving footprints on the tile floor. “Your mother would kill you letting him in here like this.”

  Caleb comes over and sits, not next to me, but near enough to make my heart race. His closeness throws me off balance, especially given the chat I just had with Sunny.

  “What my mother doesn’t know won’t piss her off,” he says with sly eyes and a smile. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he might be flirting with me. But I do. Know better.

  He’s not flirting. I can’t fall for him again. It will come to nothing.

  “Caleb,” I say with the wisdom of a girl who has known him most of his life, “you used to care very much what might piss off your mother. You remember the sand crabs?”

  There’s less than a foot of sofa cushion between us. He scratches Mo on the muzzle and laughs. “I do. What did we catch, like twenty of them?” Mo leans into his hands.

  “At least twenty.” I try to maintain my composure as he seems to have moved even closer. “All you could talk about was how mad your mama was gonna get, and I told you that she’d be fine when we surprised them with a nice crab dinner.”

  He leans back and looks at me. I return the stare. “I tried to tell you—you don’t eat those tiny things.”

  “Then why did you help me catch them? You had scratches all up and down your arms.”

  He chuckles. “You ever try arguing with you?”

  He shifts slightly, and his eyes roam over my face. Is it just me or is every moment between us lasting a little too long? It must be. Just me.

  “I learned that lesson early on. Plus”—he looks away—“what were we, like nine and ten? I woulda done anything for you back then.”

  I swallow hard.

  His tone is as casual as if he just told me the temperature outside. “Hey,” he keeps on, “I appreciate your offer, last night—to talk—and I mean it, same goes for you. Okay?”

  I am dumbstruck. It’s so quiet, I can hear that racing heartbeat in my ears. “Okay.”

  He stands up and sighs. “Come on, get ready. I don’t have all day.”

  He walks away down the hall, but I don’t move.

  I think back to the crab incident, which I vividly remember. He defended me when our mothers got so mad. That was nice of him.

  Now he’s offering to listen to me if I need it. That is also nice.

  It just seems that for all these niceties, I can recall a hundred times where he made me feel like I was a huge pain in his butt. A million times when he was the opposite of nice.

  I let out a mighty sigh. Maybe Sunny is right about people changing—maybe I can give him a second chance, but not with my heart. That’s off-limits. He asked about being friends again, though, like when we were kids catching inedible crabs. I can do that. I can go there.

  Maybe?

  Mo licks my hand and yelps like he thinks that’s a brilliant idea. Based on this positive feedback, I head to the bedroom to put on my suit.

  Chapter Nine

  Caleb

  Catie and friends are already outside on the deck while I get Mo set up for the day with food and water. I see flashes of skin through the half-opened blinds.

  My dog whines.

  “Stop it. We won’t be gone that long,” I say to him.

  He barks in response.

  “Oh, come on.” I
put his water bowl on the floor and scratch his ears, which he loves. “I know. Don’t worry, I’m being careful,” I whisper to him. He whimpers. “Yeah, I know you love her.”

  Mo is my counselor, or the closest thing I’ll probably ever have to one—and what I know is that whether I find Catie attractive or not, whether seeing her with another guy makes my blood boil over, nothing’s gonna happen. Nothing can.

  “Why not?” I’m still whispering to my dog. “It’d be stupid, that’s why not.”

  Stupid, and over as fast as it started—if anything did start. Like a whistle blown just as a play begins. She’d get on my nerves with her constant badgering and questions, right? When we were kids, she wanted to be a reporter, hunting down news stories and digging for answers. She was good at it, too. I guess she’s given up on that, since she’s planning to run the company one day.

  Come to think of it, she doesn’t seem to be asking all the nagging questions anymore, either. She did ask what was wrong with me. I guess that was probably not so much nagging as just caring, like a friend might do.

  Maybe that’s just what she’s always done. Maybe I’m an idiot.

  I say goodbye to my dog therapist and walk onto the deck to lock the door. They’re all in the process of spraying each other with sunscreen. Ainsley is in shorts and a bikini that should not be allowed in public. I swear the triangles that make up her top are about the size of a dime. If she’s looking for attention, she’s going to get it. Sunny is no better. Catie’s the only one with a T-shirt on, which makes me happy. Sensible girl. Smart girl.

  We pile into the truck and head down the main road a few miles. When I put on my turn signal in front of the waterslide, Catie laughs in a way that makes me instantly know this was the right decision. It’s a laugh that I remember from when we were kids, this long, low giggle that makes everyone around her want to laugh, too.

  “Fun Spot?” she says from the backseat. “You’re kidding me. Oh my God, I haven’t been here in forever!”

  Ainsley, who’d called shotgun, stares up at the long double slide like it was a snake that might bite her. “That’s it?”