Swept Up

by Taylor Morris

  “I’m sure she doesn’t think that,” Kyle said. “And if you’re talking, that’s good, right?”

  “That’s true,” I said. “But then when you asked to walk home with me and I said yes, I think she thought I was lying about not being able to hang out with her.”

  “I think you’re reading way too much into it,” Kyle said. “She just needed a little time, that’s all.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “With Marla in town it’s just such bad timing. Eve once told me that they’d drifted apart when she moved here. I wonder what made Marla decide to spend her spring break here. Do you think that’s strange?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Not really. Maybe like you, Marla missed hanging out with her. Eve’s a good friend to have—she seems like she’d be missable.”

  “Yeah. Eve is totally missable.” I smiled.

  Kyle just got it. I didn’t have to do a lot of explaining of things to him. Plus, he listened and seemed to really, truly care. I mean, come on—what else was I supposed to want in a guy?

  At the crosswalk we watched the traffic slowly roll by and when the walk sign flashed on, Kyle took my hand in his and guided me across the street. I wondered if he’d let go once we were safely on the sidewalk, but he didn’t and I was glad. His hand wasn’t all sweaty or rough like I thought a boy’s might be, either. I’m not saying he wore lotion mittens at night, but they felt great. I gently squeezed his hand, like a little message saying I liked this. He gave me a squeeze back.

  During the last few blocks to the diner, Kyle told me a story about seeing our principal at the bowling alley with his family and how weird it was to see him out of his suit and in those shoes. I told him about the time Ms. Carter came into Hello, Gorgeous! and I spilled a soda all over her well-toned arms and legs.

  We were almost to the diner when Kyle said, “Wait, come here.” He pulled me into a narrow walkway that led to an alley for the shops on Camden Way. Weeds grew between the cobblestones beneath our sneakers, and he gently led me back against the redbrick wall. The noises of the main street were slightly muffled, and his voice was that much quieter when he said, “Is this okay?”

  I felt my head nodding yes but I had no idea what was going on.

  He took both my hands in his and held them down by our thighs. He ran a thumb across my knuckle in a way that was probably meant to be soothing but my heart was pounding so hard and my mind raced. Now I knew the reality of the moment that was upon me: the kiss.

  I wasn’t ready. I was moments away from talking to Lizbeth about this. It couldn’t happen now—it just couldn’t. I’d mess it up, do the wrong thing, and scare him off forever. I’d be known as Mickey the Terrible Kisser and that would follow me through high school and college. No one would ever ask me out again and I’d die alone with cats climbing all over my face.

  He looked at my lips, slightly parting his own. I wanted to pull back just the slightest bit but my back was against the wall—there was nowhere to go. Kyle leaned his head slightly to the left and then . . . “I just wanted you to know that I really like hanging out with you,” he said. “I’m really glad I’m your boyfriend.”

  Okay, wait. How did I go from terrified to sa-woon in under five seconds? I wanted to melt. I wanted to kiss him.

  Almost. I wanted to talk to someone about it first.

  “I’m really glad I’m your girlfriend,” I said, my voice quivering the slightest bit.

  He smiled this small, crooked smile that showed a dimple I’d never seen before. “Ready to go?”

  No, I thought.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  Still holding hands, we walked back to the sidewalk and up the few steps to the diner. He opened the door for me. I saw Lizbeth sitting at a booth and she waved me over.

  “Thanks for the walk,” I said to Kyle. He wouldn’t try to do it right here in front of the old hostess, would he?

  “See you tomorrow,” he said, giving my hand a final squeeze before letting go and heading out the door.

  When I got to Lizbeth’s booth I collapsed into it.

  “What was all that about?” she asked with a wide grin on her face like she totally knew.

  “That,” I said, “was about a boy.”

  “Then we better get extra cheese on those fries.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “You have to tell me everything you know about kissing,” I said to Lizbeth after I filled her in on my walks with Kyle—today’s and yesterday’s—and my complete panic at the thought of a kiss. “I’m not uncomfortable if you’re not.”

  “I’m not uncomfortable,” she said, biting into an extracheesy, extracrispy fry.

  “I thought about talking to Kristen about it but I know she’s got enough boy problems right now as it is,” I said, pulling the black-and-white shake closer to me and taking a long sip. “Plus, I was afraid of what she’d tell me. Probably something involving swirls and rotations.”

  “She once told Tobias that she would allow him to kiss her cheek. He was like, ‘What is this? The 1800s?’” She laughed. “He passed on her offer.”

  “So,” I began, telling myself to not be nervous or feel stupid. There were no stupid questions, right? Lowering my voice so the old ladies in the booth behind us couldn’t hear, I said, “Can you, like, describe how to kiss someone?” I honestly wanted to hide my face in my hands, but I had to be brave. It was probably just as embarrassing for Lizbeth. But better to be embarrassed with a friend than with my boyfriend.

  “Well,” she said. “You basically just touch your lips together with, like, a little pressure. And I guess you move them around some, like sort of opening and closing your mouth. When you want to go a little advanced you can—”

  “Okay!” I said. “Got it!” I couldn’t think about advanced anything. I just couldn’t do it. No way.

  “It’s not that bad,” Lizbeth said. “Sometimes it’s awkward at first—”

  “More awkward than this conversation?” I joked.

  She smiled. “Maybe. But there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s easy. And nice.”

  I wiped my hands on my napkin. “Okay, but here’s what I was thinking. And promise not to laugh.”

  “Swear.”

  “I was thinking—if I’m still not ready to do the kissing thing when the dance comes around—that I would wear really thick, shiny, goopy lip gloss. What do you think?”

  Lizbeth stopped midreach for another fry. “Mickey, I don’t know a lot about boys. Honestly, I don’t. But I do know one thing.”

  “What is it?”

  She leaned forward and said, “If a boy wants to kiss you, he’ll kiss you. Even if you have mud on your lips.”

  “But I’m talking about that kind that comes in the squeezy tube. The really sticky kind.”

  She shook her head. “It won’t work. Listen,” she said. “If you’re not ready, you don’t have to kiss him. All you have to do is say, ‘Kyle, I’m not ready.’ He is one of the best guys we know—he’ll be cool about it.” She eyed me for a moment. “What’s really bothering you?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. He’s my first boyfriend. I’m afraid of making a fool of myself.”

  “You are not going to make a fool of yourself,” she said.

  “Maybe. But it just seems like a couple months ago I was whopping Kyle’s butt in video games and now I’m thinking about kissing him. I haven’t exactly been planning for this.”

  “The first time I kissed a boy,” Lizbeth said, “I totally felt the same way. I was so nervous, my heart was about to jump out of my chest. But it’s like, once you get over that anticipation part, it’s not a big deal. I promise.”

  “Hopefully. I don’t plan on avoiding him forever.”

  “In that case,” she said, “here’s my advice.”

  Now I was
the one leaning forward, listening closely through the clattering of plates in the background.

  “Just go with it,” she said.

  I waited for more. When I realized she wasn’t saying anything else, I said, “That’s it? Just go with it?”

  “Kissing is a no-brainer, but you only realize it once you’ve done it.”

  “So what am I supposed to do until then?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Eat lots of breath mints.”

  We laughed and settled back into the grub.

  “So, while we’re on the subject,” I said. “Have you and Matthew . . . ?”

  She kept her face turned down toward the table, but it didn’t hide her smile. “Have we what?”

  “Oh, please! Have you guys made out, kissed, macked down?”

  She laughed. “‘Macked down’? Did you just make that up?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “And I’m going to take this reaction as a yes.”

  “Fine,” she said. “Yes, we have kissed. Just twice, though.”

  “Ooh la la,” I teased.

  She stirred her milkshake and said, “I really like him. He’s supersmart and totally hot and is probably the only guy in school who can handle Tobias’s ego. That means he’s patient, too.”

  “You’re saying he’s more than just a good argyle sweater?” I teased.

  She grinned. “Much more. I’m not freaking out over him asking me to the dance because I know he will.”

  “So you’re definitely not going with Kristen’s tactics?”

  “No way,” she said. “I love her, but she operates on an entirely different level.”

  “I’m afraid of her level,” I said. “I’m not sure I’d ever be ready for that kind of intensity. And fighting.”

  “You don’t have to be,” Lizbeth said. “I know I’ll never be like that. Besides, I’d be shocked if Matthew didn’t ask me—that’s how sure I am that he will.”

  “I like your confidence,” I said.

  “It comes in handy now and then,” she said. “How are things going with you and Eve?”

  The corners of my mouth pulled down at the mention of her name. “They’re okay, I guess. I was actually talking to Kyle about it on the way over here.”

  “What’d he say about it?”

  “He thinks she’ll come around. She just needs a little time.”

  “Smart guy,” Lizbeth said.

  “I’ve only been around her friend Marla a couple of times but I get the feeling she doesn’t like me.”

  I expected her to say, “Please! I’m sure she’s just shy,” or something like that. But she didn’t. And her silence told me she wanted to say something more but didn’t know how.

  “Hey,” I asked. “Do you know something?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know anything. Honestly. It’s just that, well, the BFF thing is tricky, even if they’re not official best friends anymore. It’s a tough force to crack through, like a shared history or something.”

  “Great,” I said. “So you’re saying it’s hopeless.”

  “No,” Lizbeth said. “But I think the key to Eve is through Marla.”

  “I’m not kissing up to her, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Please,” she said. “I would never in a thousand recommend that. But if you can earn Marla’s trust, then I bet Eve will start to see that she can trust you again, too.”

  I thought about that. I knew right away that Kyle was a good guy because he was Jonah’s friend. I knew Jonah would never hang around anyone shady. Maybe the same was true with Eve and Marla.

  “So I should join forces with Marla, huh?” I said. It might be a good idea, but I wasn’t 100 percent thrilled with it.

  “Just a suggestion,” she said, popping a now-soggy fry in her mouth.

  “Yeah, well I have a suggestion, too,” I said. “You. Me. Kristen. Dress shopping. What do you say? Thursday after school? I have to work Wednesday.”

  “All I heard was shopping so yes, I’m in.”

  I was fighting to get back one of my best friends, but it was comforting knowing that I still had an army of great ones by my side, ready to be there for me when I needed them most.

  Lizbeth and I walked out of the diner—she turned left and I went right.

  I started my walk past the shops on Camden Way, thinking about everything Lizbeth had said. She was probably right about Marla, and I should try to get in with her. Not in a deceitful way because honestly, if Eve liked her and had been friends with her all those years, she had to be a good person, right? Based on my Kyle-as-Jonah’s-friend theory, anyway.

  Suddenly, I paused. Standing outside Suds en Provence, the fancy soap shop up ahead, was the girl of the moment herself. That’s the thing about small towns—if there’s someone you want to avoid seeing, even just for a breather, you’ll probably be out of luck. It was like a statistical fact.

  I sucked up all my pride and headed straight for her. I wanted to cross the street to avoid her but knew Lizbeth’s idea was a good one.

  Marla was crouched down on her heels below the front window listening to music on her phone. She wore a black leather headband, her short hair spiking out of the top of it. I had to admit, I’d never seen someone wear a headband so tough.

  “Marla—hey,” I said, once I was standing in front of her. She looked up at me, then slowly stood up and took out her earbuds.

  “Hey,” she said. “What’s up?” She wrapped the cord around her phone like she was settling in for a long talk that I’m sure she wanted no part of. I kind of wanted to tell her not to do me any favors, but reminded myself that I was there for Eve, not Marla.

  “What are you doing hanging out here?” I asked.

  “Eve’s inside,” she said, motioning into the shop with a nod of her head. “She’s getting some bath salts for her grandmother or something.”

  “They have some really great stuff here,” I said, looking at the window display full of handmade soaps made with rose essences and kiwis and mangos. “I never knew soap could be so fancy.”

  “The smell was making me sick.”

  Some kids skated by behind me, and Marla watched them go as if she longed for them to take her away. Or maybe I was projecting. “How was the museum?” I asked.

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug as if she couldn’t be bothered to lift both. “Okay. I mean, it was a museum.”

  I put my hands in my pockets to avoid the desire to reach out and rattle her neck. The Berkshire Museum happened to be really interesting, thanks very much. Did she have to be so negative about everything?

  “Are you and Eve at least having fun?” I pressed on.

  “Yeah,” she said. “It’s good to see her. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her.”

  “I’m glad you got to come then.”

  She didn’t say anything, just eyed me for a moment. I shifted under her gaze. “You know,” she began, “just because Eve and I haven’t talked much lately doesn’t mean we’re not good friends. Because we are.”

  “I know,” I said, even though I didn’t. What was she getting at?

  “She has had a hard time since moving here. Unnecessarily. Because of you.”

  I could barely move. If a tornado swept down Camden Way I’d probably have stayed glued to the sidewalk. I was angry that she would talk about my business with Eve and embarrassed that I even had such business with Eve. I didn’t respond, just kept my gaze even with hers.

  “Look,” she said, more gently this time. “I’m just looking out for her. Okay?”

  A chiming bell shook me from my paralyzed state. We both turned to see Eve walking out of the shop. Only then did I start to breathe again.

  “Mickey?” Eve questioned as she came up to us. “What a
re you doing here? I thought you had plans.”

  “I, uh,” I began, realizing how dry my throat was. I cleared it and tried again. She probably thought she was yet again busting me in a lie. “I did. I just got done hanging out with Lizbeth. I’m on my way home now.”

  Eve looked between us and asked Marla, “You guys been out here long?”

  “Nah,” Marla said. “Just a couple of minutes.”

  “Cool.” Eve nodded. “We’re heading back to my house. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah,” I said. Despite the tension, I was sad to see her go, to know she didn’t want to spend any more time with me. “See you at school.”

  I walked home alone, wondering how long the damage would last between us. I understood Marla wanting to protect Eve—I wanted to protect her, too. But from what? Me? All I knew was that I missed her, and I needed a way to fix this.

  CHAPTER 11

  Instead of going home, I went straight to Jonah’s. I wasn’t feeling great about my run-in with Marla and needed to see my friend. I knew that even if he didn’t have a solution, just being with Jonah would assure me that I wasn’t the world’s worst friend.

  “What do you think about Marla?” I asked Jonah as we lounged on the couch in the game room and watched TV.

  “I don’t know,” he said, staring at the screen as a girl sang a country song on the competition show we couldn’t get enough of. “She’s all right.”

  “You don’t think she’s kind of, I don’t know, bullheaded?”

  “You mean like a bully?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “That’s not what I said.” The last thing I wanted was to be accused of calling her that.

  “So what are you saying?” Jonah asked. “This girl sounds like a dying whale,” he said of the girl on the show.

  “I’m just saying,” I began, trying to find the right words, “that she seems a bit protective of Eve.”