Who I Kissed

by Janet Gurtler

  “I gotta get going,” Zee says with a wave to Jackson. He disappears toward the men’s locker room.

  Jackson and I are left alone. He smiles at me as he swirls a giggling Joe in the air. “I’m sorry about what happened,” he says. “To that kid.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “I saw his sister at Grinds the other night, the coffee shop where I work.” Jackson swoops the little boy in the air but looks at me. “Her and her boyfriend.”

  “Zee?”

  He glances off. “No. Her boyfriend. Um…Casper.”

  I frown.

  “That’s not her boyfriend.”

  “Really?” Jackson shrugs. “That’s not what it looked like to me.”

  I pretend to smile and nod, and he excuses himself and takes Joe to the kiddie pool. I wrinkle my nose, not envying him getting inside that water.

  I watch as he dips the little boy’s toes in the water, wondering what made him think Casper was Chloe’s boyfriend.

  ***

  When I get to the parking lot, Zee’s leaning against the driver’s side of my dad’s car. I walk slowly forward, as if I’m approaching a hangman with a noose.

  “I’m sorry,” he says when I’m closer. He pushes off the door. “For acting like a jerk in there. Taking off. I didn’t know you were coming today. It took me by surprise.”

  I click the door open with my car starter. “It’s okay.”

  “No. It’s not.” A horn honks, and Taylor waves from the passenger seat of Justin’s truck as they drive by. Taylor mouths something, but I don’t catch what it is. “It was stupid.”

  Zee ignores them and touches my arm for a second and then pulls back. “I just hate it so much that you’re with Casper,” he says. “It pisses me off.”

  I study my keys, ignoring the cars pulling in and out of the parking lot around us. “There’s nothing between Casper and me.” Not anymore. There won’t be again. I want to forget him completely, but they say you never forget your first.

  “Good,” Zee says

  “Good?”

  “Good. At least Alex was a good guy. Casper doesn’t deserve you.” He takes a step closer to me.

  I think about what Jackson said. “Are you and Chloe doing okay?” I ask him. Behind us, two boys, about thirteen, rattle the chain-link fence that separates the parking lot from the field. They leap over it and head toward the graffiti-covered mini skate park.

  “Chloe and me?” He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

  I bite my bottom lip. “Well. You’re together, right?”

  “Together? You mean together-together? No. Who said that?” His eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me. Casper.” It looks like steam’s about to blow from his nose.

  “Actually, it was Kaitlin.”

  “Well. Consider the source. Alex’s been my best friend since we were twelve.” He pauses. “He was my best friend. Chloe’s part of the package.”

  I watch the boys race each other to a concrete bike jump. “You’re not together?”

  “Friends.”

  I nod. Pretending this isn’t pretty awesome news in my world. “Well. Good. Jackson just told me he saw her with Casper. As in making out.”

  In the field, one boy falls to his knees, and the other bends over laughing.

  “Asshole.” Zee whistles under his breath. “He can’t leave anyone alone.”

  He glances over to the field, at the boys I’m watching. We both stare at them as they goof around, hurdling steel ramps.

  Zee kicks his foot at the ground. “I’m still so messed up.” He runs his hands over his hair and tugs on the ends. “About Alex…I miss him.”

  “I know.”

  He glances out at the boys, but they disappear behind a half-pipe.

  “I always thought it was supposed to be us, Sam. Me and you. I thought we were the ones who were supposed to be together.” He turns to me then and I open my mouth, struggling to think of something to say.

  My cheeks flare, and some ice slides off my heart and melts into my belly. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Me too,” I admit.

  With a graceful swoop, he slips a hand onto my back and then pulls me toward him by my waist. Our faces are less than an inch apart. Zee smells like chlorine and promises.

  My mind spins, but all I can think of is how delicious he is. His hair curls up on the ends from the cold. Our hips bones crush together.

  “But it got ruined,” I say softly.

  “So I totally messed it up?” he whispers.

  A horn blares, but neither one of us looks toward the car. “What about me? I messed up worse.”

  “I want to kiss you,” he whispers. “More than I’ve wanted to kiss anyone in my whole life.”

  I shiver and hold my breath. Waiting. But then he lets me go, and I stumble before regaining my balance. The disappointment is familiar. It’s Alex, I guess. His ghost will always be around us.

  “I have to get to Chloe’s,” Zee says. “She texted while we were swimming. She wants me there right away. Her mom wants to talk to us. Casper too, I guess.” He reaches for my hair, brushes his hand over it. “Can we talk later? Can I text you? Is that okay?”

  I pause for a second. Is it? After everything? I nod, and when Zee smiles it lights up his whole face. He waves and runs off, leaping over the chain-link fence.

  He stops and swivels around. Waves again. I watch him go. Sad. Confused. But slightly, ever so slightly hopeful.

  chapter twenty-five

  “Did Chloe ask you to come?” Casper asks. Leaves crunch under our feet as we walk down the long driveway in front of his house.

  After texting him and finding out he was home, I showed up at his door, shaking with anger, demanding to talk to him. He slid his shoes on and walked outside with me without a coat instead of inviting me in. As if I’m that offensive.

  “Why would Chloe ask me to come here?” I spit. “Because she’s your girlfriend?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he says and glances over his shoulder at the house. I think a curtain moves in the huge window in the front room.

  “Her mom asked me to go to her house earlier. But I couldn’t.” He glances at the house again. “I have some family stuff going on.”

  “Does Chloe know? About us?” I ask. Casper stops and leans against the grille of my car. He glances at his house again as if he’s worried that the windows have ears, and then he turns back to me.

  “I never said anything to Chloe. Why would I?” He seems calm and collected. He doesn’t even shiver in the cold in the thin T-shirt he’s wearing.

  “Well. Maybe because you were sleeping with her too,” I spit out.

  “I never said we were exclusive, Sam. You knew I was seeing other girls,” he says in a soft voice.

  I cross my arms and glare at him. “No, actually I didn’t know. And Chloe? That’s kind of taking advantage of someone who’s grieving. Don’t you think?”

  “We were together before Alex.” He stops, and I close my eyes and breathe in deep, fighting a desire to fire my fist into his midsection.

  “So why on earth did you bother hooking up with me?” I ask.

  Someone else who was grieving, I silently add.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” he says, and the smugness he usually wears as easily as his expensive clothes is missing. “I thought it would help. You were so sad.”

  “You thought that making out with me and having sex would help me get over killing someone?” I actually stomp my foot on the ground. “You used me to get a good grade, Casper. Which you didn’t have to do. I would have been your partner anyhow.” I squeeze the keys in my hand so hard they cut into my skin.

  “I never said we were exclusive,” he repeats.
<
br />   I fight another urge to punch him. “You did the same thing to Callie, didn’t you? Slept with her while you were working with her. For the grade?”

  His eyes narrow, and I can tell he’s fighting the urge to ask how I know about that. His lips pinch together, supplying me with my answer. “I don’t talk about girls like that.”

  “God, how many are there? Callie dated your best friend,” I remind him. “But obviously things like loyalty don’t matter to you.” I accidentally hit the panic button on my car keys, and the horn starts honking and the headlights flashing.

  Casper pushes off the car and waves his hands around. “God. Turn that off.” For the first time, he actually seems ruffled.

  I snicker at my clumsiness and switch it off, but based on the expression on his face, he is not amused. Good. That makes two of us.

  He looks at the house.

  “You did say you liked trophies,” I say, remembering. “I guess that’s what girls are to you?”

  There are so many things I want to say out loud. It’s liberating to start with him.

  Casper lifts a shoulder and stares at the bricks on the driveway. “My dad tells me that this is the time of my life when I need to have fun and keep my options open.”

  “I don’t think he meant that as a permission slip to sleep with every girl who crosses your path.” I tell him. “And if he did, he’s an ass.”

  His eyes flash and he opens his mouth, but then he seems to change his mind and closes it.

  “You suck. You know that? You totally suck,” I tell him and reach for my car door.

  “I’m sorry,” he says as I climb inside. “I thought we were having a good time.”

  “You are sorry,” I tell him. “And as a matter of a fact, it wasn’t good for me. Not at all.” I slam the door behind me, start the car, and speed away. When I glance in the rearview mirror, he’s standing with his hands in his jean pockets, watching me go.

  Thank God we got an A-plus on our project.

  Sam I am.

  ***

  I take the long way home and soothe myself with loud music.

  There’s a car in our driveway when I pull up. Something about the vehicle bothers me. I park my car on the street and turn off the ignition, looking toward our house for clues.

  The blinds are drawn in the living room, and I have no idea who’s inside.

  I tiptoe in, but Fredrick hears me and starts yapping his high-pitched bark. He wiggles over when he sees me, his butt swinging from side to side, and scratches at my legs, demanding I pick him up and give him a proper greeting.

  I hear Dad’s voice in the kitchen and a soft female voice. Not Aunt Allie. “Sam?” he calls. “We’re in here.”

  My eyebrows press together.

  I put Fredrick down and head to the kitchen. Fredrick follows me. There’s a woman at the table. Watching me. My heart stops, but I keep walking. It’s Alex’s mom. The car in the driveway is the one Chloe was driving when she hit Fredrick.

  Mrs. Waverly’s eyes fill with tears, and she stands. “Sam,” she says, and her voice breaks with emotion. I glance over at Dad for help, but his lips are pressed tight and he says nothing.

  She pulls me into her arms. She’s clinging to me, but my arms hang by my side. Fredrick growls.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers in my ear.

  Dad scoops up Fredrick. His eyes are wide and moist, and he shakes his head, though it’s barely perceptible. Something is up, but I have no idea what it is. He takes Fredrick to the door leading to the basement, opens it, puts Fredrick down, gives him a nudge with his foot, and closes the door.

  I shift awkwardly from foot to foot, until Mrs. Waverly lets me go and then look back from Mrs. Waverly to Dad, wondering what the hell is going on. Something heavy is in the air. Something big.

  Mrs. Waverly attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite work. Her lips make it halfway up and then droop. Her hands crawl over each other as if there’s an invisible itch she can’t get rid of.

  Dad steps over to her and touches her arm.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” He turns to me. “You too, Sam.”

  Frowning and not taking my eyes off Mrs. Waverly, I do as he asks.

  She sits too, her head down. “I’m sorry Mr. Waverly isn’t here too. He didn’t feel up to joining me. He’s having a hard time.” She exhales and looks up, looks me right in the eye. “I wanted to let you know in person.” She leans back slightly and wrings her hands. Looks away. “What happened. Well…it wasn’t your fault.” Her hands halt.

  I turn to my dad, but he nods toward Mrs. Waverly, indicating I should listen. I look back at her.

  “The report came in. From the coroner. According to the findings, Alex died from an acute asthma attack—not from coming into contact with peanut butter on his lips or saliva.”

  I don’t say anything. My brain tries to process the information.

  “He died from an asthma attack,” my dad clarifies quietly.

  “Not from me?” The words sound foreign and bounce around in my head. “But…” I’ve got nothing. “Wow.”

  I try to fit the new information into my brain. On a faraway level, I realize this will change everything for me. Everything I’ve thought and felt for the last couple months.

  “They ordered an autopsy. Because of the way he died.” Tears slide down Mrs. Waverly’s cheeks. “It turns out the children didn’t disclose everything that went on that night. Zee and Chloe told us tonight.” She wipes tears from under her eyes. “Alex was doing drugs. With Casper. And Zee and Chloe knew about it. But they didn’t tell us. Not until now.”

  Her voice breaks, and it validates how weak my victory is. This changes nothing for her. Alex is still gone. My insides ache at the expressions that cross her face. Embarrassment. Anger. But I’m relieved to see the love there too. The lingering and strong love for her son.

  “It’s not fair,” I whisper. “He had so much to live for.”

  “He was just a kid,” my dad says softly. “It was a mistake. God knows we all make them.”

  Mrs. Waverly gulps back a hiccupping sound, and her head bobs up and down. Up and down. “Yes. I know. He was a good boy. He was.”

  I shake off a flicker of anger at Alex. For putting himself in danger that night. And for kissing me. But I can’t maintain it. He lost. Big time.

  “It’s not fair,” I say.

  “No,” Mrs. Waverly agrees. “It makes no sense.”

  Dad takes a box of Kleenex from the top of the fridge and hands them to her. “I may have done the same thing when I was his age,” my dad says. My eyes widen, but he shakes his head at me, once. I understand the message.

  “Kids try these things. Usually it means nothing. They move on.”

  Mrs. Waverly pulls out tissues but holds them in her hand. The gratitude on her face is so earnest yet sad that I have to look away. I lower my head. “I did have the peanut butter before I kissed him.”

  She sniffs. “They said that it only lasts in the saliva so long. You’d brushed your teeth.” She stands up. “I’m sorry. You deserve our deepest apologies. I hope you can forgive the horrible accusations that you had to deal with.”

  “I’m sorry too,” I whisper back. “That you lost Alex.”

  “I have to get back.” She clutches the tissues and turns to Dad. “The coroner is going to make the report public. Because of the media exposure and the controversy about the peanut allergy. It caused a lot of panic for parents of kids with allergies.”

  “A press release will be going out in the morning. I asked them to wait until I spoke with you.” She walks out to the hallway and then rotates on her heels. “I would never wish this upon you, Sam, but at the very least, awareness has been raised. It doesn’t bring Alex back. But it’s something.”
/>   She spins and hurries toward the front door, slipping on her shoes and running out the door before Dad can even follow her.

  I stare at the empty chair at the kitchen table. “I feel like I should be happy. But how can I be? No one wins. It’s kind of anticlimactic.”

  Dad is standing behind me, watching me. “It removes the onus of guilt from you, Sam. You didn’t cause his death. The blame is gone.”

  He reaches over and pats my shoulder. I wince.

  “But so is Alex, Dad. That’s the thing. He’s still gone.”

  “He is. But you’re not. You’re still here.” He digs his finger into my shoulder. “You’re stiff. How was your swim tonight?”

  I stick out my tongue and make a face and brush his hands off me. It’s sore. “Terrible.”

  “I’m proud of you, Sam.”

  I roll my eyes, and then I put an elbow on the table and rest my chin on my arm. “You really smoked pot in high school?”

  “Oh. That.” He goes to the cupboard and reaches for a glass.

  “You were a swimmer,” I shout, shocked by his admission.

  “It was a girl,” Aunt Allie says. We both look over. She’s standing at the top of the basement stairs, holding Fredrick, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “It’s okay if I come up now?”

  “I told you to stay up here in the first place,” Dad says to her and takes out two more glasses.

  “It was a private moment. For family.” She bends and puts Fredrick on the ground.

  Fredrick hobbles over to me with his broken little leg.

  “You are family,” Dad says to Aunt Allie. Her eyes fill with tears, and Dad steps over and pulls her in close. “Did you hear? About Alex?”

  I scoop up Fredrick, and he attacks my nose and tries to kiss my lips with his little tongue.

  Aunt Allie nods and smiles at me. “I’m proud of the way you’re honoring Alex’s memory, butterfly. But I won’t lie. I’m thrilled your name will be cleared in all of this.” Dad pulls me in tight, and we all join together and squeeze each other in our first-ever family group hug. Including Fredrick.

  When we let go, I pinch my thumb and finger on my free hand and pretend to inhale from a marijuana cigarette. Aunt Allie chokes, and then she laughs and laughs and laughs while Dad pounds on her back.