by Anne Eliot
I open my eyes as he lifts his head. That felt-soft gaze of his and his secretive smile pull at me but so do the watching eyes of the few people around the bonfire who’ve noticed us snuggling up really close.
I turn toward him and whisper, “Maybe this won’t be easier.”
“If we stop hiding it, people will just have to accept us as a couple. It will make for fewer questions in the long run, don’t you think?” He’s whispered all of that in between kissing and kissing the soft, indented part of my cheek. Our mouths are so close, I just turn a little more to the side and kiss him back how I’ve wanted to since he first handed me that sandwich.
And like yesterday, every move and every breath and every sigh falls into place between us. I drift away on butterflies and caramel-scented air, and he also goes somewhere far away. But we both know how close we are to each other because there’s no denying the sound coming from our hearts. They’re beating together, strong and steady. Grounding us to each other and to this moment.
He ends the kiss, probably because he knows I’m not capable, and I close my eyes, leaning back against him once more as he pulls his arms around me.
The wood on the bonfire’s popping and crackling, and we listen to the sound of the small lake waves steadily rolling in, giving the laughter, the shrieks from a nearby glow-volleyball game, and the music coming from portable speakers on the other side of the fire a perfect background noise.
He reaches around and twines his hand into both of mine all over again.
*Shouts out: Whomever is involved in this prank can come out and do the big reveal now. I’ve had my kisses. I’m good to go, AND FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I knew it all along!*
I glance around, too late noticing Bella-Jane’s eyes are glowing red-fire back at us as she comes around the fire circle. Tanner looks completely amused—joyful almost—because in his self-centered mind, Cam’s been removed from circulation. The guy probably thinks Cam and I together means he can simply move in and finally get Bella-Jane to go out with him.
“Is it really going to be just like this?” I whisper, watching Tanner and Bella-Jane begin a heated conversation.
“Like what?” Cam answers, frowning like he suddenly looks as worried as I feel.
“Like…the next time we show up at school together, you and I, will simply be a couple?”
He’s grinning. “Yes. That’s how it works, even though those two and a few more might give us some trouble about it. Are you okay with that?”
“I’m not afraid of them or anyone.”
“Good.” He frowns. “Unless that kiss has made you feel something different. Have you changed your mind?”
I shake my head. “No. Not at all. But…since we aren’t going to lie to each other, I’ll just tell you.” I pause to look back at him. “That last kiss? And that first one that was next to my hair?”
“Yeah?” He looks so completely worried he’s adorable. “What? No good?”
I fake a frown and say, “Don’t interrupt, this is difficult enough.”
“Okay. Okay. Go.” He nods, his face going all pale.
I continue, “That piggyback ride, the Timbits, the way you hold the hand I never let anyone else touch like it’s fragile and beautiful, the way you keep looking at me just how you are looking at me now—like I’m insane but like you really, truly like me despite my possible insanity?”
“Yeah?” He smiles.
I take in a deep breath. “I’ve fallen for you so hard—and so—please…please,” my voice catches into a choked whisper.
“What?” he whispers back.
I swallow. “Please don’t…don’t let any of this be a dream.”
He laughs and hugs me tight into his arms. “It’s not. It’s not. And for what it’s worth I have the same idea. I panic daily that I’m going to wake up and all of your texts will be missing off my phone. Every morning I think when I show up at that damn bus stop, you and I won’t have ever talked at all!”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” He lets out a long breath. “I also panic that there’s really not an insane Irish girl at our school and friends with me. Worse, I actually welcome going to the football practices I usually hate just so I can make sure this hulking dude named Patrick still wants to kill me. Because Patrick’s death threats make it all real.”
I laugh out loud. “As long as we always feel the same—then it can be like a sign that we’re still—good, right?”
“Yes. And for as long as Patrick wants to kill me as well, it must mean we’re better than good.”
cam
I spot Patrick’s boots before I’m even inside the darkened digital photography room. He doesn’t even wait for me to put my lunch down before he slams them on to the floor and shouts, “You kissed her? Twice?”
“She kissed me.” I shrug. “Did she also tell you we’re going out? Dating, which is more than what I can say for the fact that you—shady player—kissed Laura London in your car the night her precious Casper broke up with her! What was that all about?”
“She asked me to, dude. Said she wanted to get rid of the taste of Casper on her lips, or some such nonsense. She was so sad that I did not have the heart to tell her no.”
I snort. “And so you took advantage of her and went for it? You are one hard up bastard. The girl was vulnerable, asking you for help and advice, and you made out with her!”
I flip on the light just in time to see Patrick’s face go all red.
“A kiss. That’s all. One, long kiss,” he says. “Unlike you who’s a champion mega-kisser though. I heard you kissed—” he changes his voice to sound all girly, “‘more amazing times than I can even count. OMG. OMG. O.M.G. I’m so happy I could die!’”
I grin. I can’t help it. “Is that what she told you?”
“Texted.”
“Yes!”
“Aside from her absolute glee, I think you took advantage when you got Ellen alone down at the beach!”
“I did not. That just happened. We were taking photos and then it was windy and there were these leaves falling and—dude—I do not owe you any explanation. It was by far the best first kiss I’ve ever had in my whole life. And I sincerely hope it’s my last first kiss, because I swear to you right now I’m never letting that girl out of my sight.”
“Shut up, would you? The last time I checked we were both not yet seventeen.”
“But we’re almost seventeen.” I shrug. “Halfway to being seniors.”
“Whatever. Thanks to football, I know you know about odds and statistics. It’s never going to work out. Not for the long term. Why couldn’t you just leave her alone? I heard at the bonfire you kissed her, like—a lot! And in front of so many people! You told me—you swore—you were not going to approach. Have you heard the gossip in the hallways today thanks to your small public make-out session? Ellen’s been taking pot-shots from bullies all day long!”
I cross my arms, trying not to shout. “So what. We kissed. It’s true, but no one groped anyone or went crazy. I thought it would get the gossip going and I’m glad it did because I want it burned off fast. And it was amazing and sweet and—perfect—actually. Ellen’s taken the lead on every single kiss we’ve had so far and I haven’t pressured her at all. I figure, in a week or so, everyone’s going to be over the fact that we are a couple who’s definitely here to stay.” I add a warning note into my voice. “Soon the gossip will have moved away from me and Ellen on to some other drama. Like…” I raise my brows high. “Like how you are well on the way to knocking-up the Irish exchange student after you promised to protect her and be a gentleman, maybe? Would you like to answer to that gossip storm?”
“I never promised that. Ever. I promised that I had a crush on her and that I meant to do something about it. I also think I vowed that I’d do just
about anything to get her to have a crush on me back. Which is exactly what I’ve done tonight. Being a gentleman had nothing at all to do with it—even though I actually AM one—so if you ever, EVER, talk about Laura London in the knocked-up way again in front of me, I will take your two front teeth out of your head!”
“Then back off the attitude about me and Ellen. I’m in love with her and I’m not going to apologize for kissing her, ever!”
Two gasps echo behind us. I don’t have to turn around to see that Laura and Ellen have entered the room.
Patrick colors even more as I feel my own embarrassment rocketing up the back of my neck. “I want to beat the crap out of you so bad!” Patrick mutters, stepping around a table toward me.
“Fine. It’s inevitable, I think.” I push a chair aside. “Let’s just go outside and swing a few, maybe it could help.”
“Oh-my, Ellen,” Laura calls out in a teasing, but calm voice. “Our boys are going to go at it. I hope they take off them shirts, don’t you? There’s nothing like sweaty six packs, shoulders and backs and biceps moving all around when boys are throwing the punches and fighting over girls, don’t you think?”
“No!” Ellen shouts. “No, I don’t think that. I hate when people fight and our boys are not going to fight about us, or over us or fight over anything. We have a ton of work to do. Let’s just clear the air.”
“Oh, I’m about to clear the damn air. Just let me throw one tiny one.” Patrick fists his hands.
I do the same. My heart’s galloping in my chest.
Laura dances between us, raining her bits of glitter off the ends of her hair, some of it falling down the lowest cut shirt I’ve ever seen the girl wear. “I’ll start. I did ask Patrick here to kiss me on the lips yesterday, and he’s a right amazing kisser, too.” Patrick’s eyes go away from me and stick onto her like he’s been hypnotized. “But I’m fresh out of the mood to date anyone—even champion kissers—so he and I are just going to be friends. Right, Patrick?”
“For now.” Patrick nods. “Until I go over to Ireland and beat the crap out of that Casper guy for breaking your heart, and then I meet your father and tell him my intentions, and then…yeah…we talk.”
Laura laughs. “Sure. Yeah. After you two set up an arranged marriage, we will totally talk—from behind bullet proof glass—because after today I’m wondering if you’ll be in prison for being a psycho.” She winks and grabs his hands. It does the trick and Patrick uncurls his fists.
Ellen steps forward. “Patrick. Cam. Why would you guys get in a fight when you both know Laura and I can handle ourselves. Please. You two have to stop freaking out.”
Patrick sighs. “Damn. You’re right. It’s just—I’m all stressed and I’m worried about you. And…I don’t want people talking about you or about Laura so, I sort of lost it.” He turns to me. “Cam. Dude. I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”
“No hard feelings. Your reaction makes this all seem real.” I give Ellen a wink and she grins back at me.
Ellen steps up. “Because it is real. I’m officially dating Cam Campbell.”
“It’s not official until you tell your mom,” Patrick grumbles.
“Well…I’m officially—as of ten minutes ago on Facebook—dating Ellen Foster.” I grin. “It’s a lame way to make an announcement, and I’ll still have to tell my parents because they suck at Facebook, but it’s a start.”
Ellen gasps again, but she’s biting her lip like she’s trying not to laugh. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did. I posted and tagged a picture of you there and on Instagram so you better do the same for me over this lunch period, or I’m going to get laughed at, or worse have to take punches from Mr. Nash.”
“What photograph?” Ellen asks, frowning.
Patrick glowers. “You’re dancing around or something, laughing among some falling leaves. It’s a shot like no other. And you look very pretty. Happy.”
“And beautiful. And I’m going to say it, you look very much in love, Ellen.” Laura sighs. “The photo’s something amazing. You take it, Cam? You should turn it in to Miss Brown.”
“I did take it but Ellen is why it’s so gorgeous. Her face…that smile.”
Ellen shakes her head. “Even though I haven’t seen it yet, I know it’s your talent. Wait until you guys see what he took over the weekend. You will just die.”
“What photos we took.” My heart twists happily. “But, thank you for the compliments.” I glance between Patrick and Laura. “So…we’re good? The four of us? Despite all the kissing that’s gone on? And aside from the part where I think we would all love the chance to tell Casper back in Ireland just exactly how we all feel about him with our fists, I vote there should be zero awkwardness between us going forward.”
“Zero.” Ellen smiles up at me.
“Zero.” Laura grins at each of us.
“Zero,” Patrick chokes out, pasting on a grin.
“Awesome!” Oblivious to the thin wire of tension still coming off Patrick, Ellen reaches into her lunch sack and sits next to Laura who’s cut into a whole avocado and now is salting each half little by little, then scooping out bits of it with a tiny ice cream taster spoon. I can’t help but think she’s picked this lunch on purpose simply because it mimics her shaking white glitter out of an ultra-tiny container.
She holds the salt out over my cold pizza. “Want some magic salt from the Island of Skye? It’s off the coast of Scotland.”
I grin and yank away my pizza. “And have you trap me in your wicked, inescapable pixie spell? Not a chance, Ireland.”
Patrick shoves his sandwich at her. “I’ll take some,” he says, in this ultra soft voice. “If you don’t mind?”
Laura’s freckles brighten some because her cheeks get all red as she shakes the shaker for him. “How much do you want?” she whispers.
“All that you have. If it’s really magic.” Patrick grins.
Ellen puts her finger into her mouth and does this awesome fake gagging. “Patrick. You swore zero awkwardness. What the heck?”
Patrick never takes his eyes off Laura who’s laughing along with me at Ellen’s antics. “What? Was that awkward? I totally disagree.”
Ellen punches him in the arm. “Let’s eat and catalogue the shots. I heard it’s going to freeze tonight—and I mean major freeze—one that’s going to stick this time.” Her eyes sparkle with anticipation. “If we’re lucky, we will all be taking photographs of frozen everything very soon! I’ve even got permission from my mom to skip school if the right storm happens.”
She glances worriedly up at all of us. “Do you think your parents will allow you to skip?”
“If the right storm happens, then we’ll be on a snow day, dummy. You know my mom will let me do anything that involves being with you.” Patrick shrugs.
“My Auntie Judith will let me. I’m sure of it,” Laura says, not looking up from her avocado because I think she’s suddenly nervous to make any more sexy-eye-contact with Patrick who’s relentlessly still staring at her.
“My parents are tough—” I start, but Patrick interrupts with a laugh.
“Wait until your dad and Coach find out you’ve got yourself a girlfriend and just in time for the playoffs! You won’t be let out your front door until Christmas!”
Ellen frowns. “Is it true?”
Patrick nods. “There’s this unwritten rule.”
“Really?” Laura finally looks up.
I sigh. “The varsity players have this tradition where they break up with any and all girlfriends and cease all girlfriend contact until the season’s over. But it’s not really a tradition, it’s more of a command from Coach.”
Ellen frowns more. “Then…maybe we should take it off our Facebook pages? Your dad is really scary. I don’t want to be the reason he d
ecides to yell at you.”
“My dad is going to yell at me even if I’m single, have perfect grades, and all is well. He will find something. Am I right, Patrick? Tell her.”
I kick him under the table which makes Patrick finally stop looking at Laura like a moon-sick cow. He notices Ellen’s stricken expression.
“He’s right, Ellen. You’ve heard the stories. Mr. Camden is famous for the yelling. He’d find something to shout at Cam about. This—you existing in Cam’s life—will be good for the guy.”
“Why?” Ellen frowns even more. “Why and how could this be good?”
I answer next, “Because, for the first time in my whole life, my dad is finally going to be mad at me for something that’s worth all of his stupid shouting.”
ellen
Bella-Jane and Paige corner me as I exit my bathroom stall. I had no idea anyone had even come in here.
“Hi, Ellen,” Bella-Jane starts in. “We’ve been looking for you!”
“Hey,” I answer, slowly stepping around her while I place my sweater over my bad arm. I’m hoping she and Paige missed the part where my arm’s already trembling and starting to jerk some, because without Patrick or Laura or even Cam by my side to face these two down, I’m an instant ball of nerves. I knew a conversation like this would happen eventually today, but I didn’t expect them to find me in the bathroom next to the principal’s office! I’ve used it for years. As far as I know I’m the only one besides office staff and visitors to use it.
“I really like your…” Her eyes go up and down me as if she’s looking for something on me to like, but her expression says she’s simply repulsed. Maybe she’s searching for the reason why Cam Campbell is suddenly my boyfriend and not hers. “Shoes,” she finishes finally.
We all know it’s not a compliment. It’s a threat.
I look down at the ratty pair of old Converse I’d worn today, and switch my voice to rigid and cynical. “Thanks.” I let my eyes flick over her—mostly to look for hidden weapons—and add my own war cry to the game. “I like the way you always wear—flip-flops. Pretty.” I meet her gaze straight on. “But aren’t you—cold?”
