by Kaye Kennedy
"And if you really meant what you said, I'd like to take you out."
"Really?"
He chuckled. "Yes, really. I like you. And I think you already know that."
I bit my lip and nodded. "I'd love to go out with you."
"Cool." We arrived at my Social Studies class and Ian handed me my books. "Friday night?"
"Friday works."
Ian surprised me by leaning down and kissing me softly on the cheek. "See you later, Allie."
"See ya." I was screaming with excitement on the inside.
11
Kyle
9th Grade - February
Allie hadn't spoken to me for two days, not since she'd gotten mad at me about the whole Ian thing on Tuesday. We'd never really fought before. Maybe a little when we were younger, but it was always over stupid stuff and never lasted more than an hour. This was different. I'd tried talking to her at school, but she'd been doing a hell of a job avoiding me. Even in class, she'd slide into her seat right when the bell rang so I couldn't talk to her and she'd disappear as soon as class had ended. She wouldn't even take the notes I'd tried to pass her.
After dinner, my dad asked me to help him in the garage, so I followed him out there. Except he didn't actually have something for us to do.
His blue-gray eyes narrowed. "What's going on with you?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Nothing."
"You've been moping around here for two days, so talk to me. Is it Melissa?"
I laughed. "No." I wasn't entirely sure why I was even dating Melissa. Truthfully, the girl made me crazy, but it was fun making out with her.
"Then what?"
I leaned against the work bench and crossed my arms. "I got into a fight with Allie."
He nodded. "I should've guessed that first."
"That obvious?"
He perched on the hood of his car. "That you're in love with her? Yeah."
"I'm not—"
"Don't bother lying."
I ground my teeth. Despite my best efforts to move on and forget about my feelings for Allie, it was a struggle.
"What happened?"
"She found out I told this guy she likes that she's not allowed to date until sophomore year."
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "And why do you think you did that?"
I kicked my foot against the concrete floor. "Trying to protect her I guess."
"And maybe because you don't want her dating other boys?"
I took a breath and nodded slowly.
"Does she know how you feel?"
"Hell no. I can't risk our friendship."
My dad crossed over to the bench and leaned next to me. "But maybe she feels the same way."
I scoffed. "Doubtful."
"How do you know unless you talk to her about it?"
I ran my hand over the stubble on my jaw. "We're friends. And that's how I want it to be." The thought of losing her terrified me. "Besides, I think she's going to date Ian." I looked around the garage where I’d spent quite a bit of time with my dad growing up. He’d taught me how to change the oil and tires on a car in that garage.
"Have you apologized to her?" Dad asked.
"No. I was going to on Wednesday, but she wouldn't talk to me."
He rested his hand on my shoulder. "She'll come around, son. Don't give up."
"Yeah," I sighed.
Suddenly, I felt like I needed to go for a walk to clear my head, so I excused myself, grabbed my coat, and wandered toward the park. If I couldn't see Allie, at least I'd feel close to her at our spot. As I turned the corner and the swings came into view, I noticed a familiar frame swinging gently on the playground and my stomach turned. I almost chickened out and went home, but I forced my feet forward and took the swing next to her. She didn't run away, so I took that as a good sign, but she also didn't say a word.
"I'm sorry, Allie."
Nothing.
"I really hate fighting with you."
"Me, too." She sighed. "But I'm mad at you."
"I know." I moved my swing back and forth slightly. "And I truly am sorry."
"You embarrassed me and basically told Ian that I'm a baby. Yeah, I know I'm not allowed to date. You know I'm not allowed to date. But no one else needed to know that. If anything, it would have been my place to tell Ian that when he asked me out."
I kicked the sand. "You're right."
"So why'd you tell him?"
The truth fell out of my mouth without thought, "Guess I got jealous."
She stopped swinging and looked at me. "Kyle, you're my best friend. If I start dating, I promise to still make time for you. That's not going to change. I mean, you're dating and we still hang out, so it won't be any different when I have a boyfriend."
"Yeah. You're right. It was dumb." I went with it because telling Allie I liked her as more than a friend would've been foolish.
"So you’ll stop interfering and you won't get upset with me for dating?"
I wanted to wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight and never let her go because she was mine and only mine.
Except she wasn't.
"I promise," I replied.
"Good." She sighed. "Because I really need my best friend right now."
"What's up?" I asked.
"I'm going on a date with Ian tomorrow night and I'm kinda freaking out."
I forced the jealous monster back into its box deep inside me. "Why are you freaking out?"
"It's my first date. Ever. What if I'm bad at it?"
I laughed. "How could you be bad at it? It's like hanging out with a friend except it's called a date."
Her eyes widened. "But what if he kisses me?"
I smirked. "Then you kiss him back."
She bit her lip. "But I've never kissed anyone before. I don't know how."
I feigned offense. "Excuse me? I seem to recall a very romantic moment in the hammock in your backyard in fifth grade."
She laughed. "That so doesn't count. I mean a real kiss. How did you? You know...figure out how to do it?"
"You're serious? You're really worried about it?"
She nodded. "I don't want to suck at it."
I sighed. "You won't. Follow his lead. Lean your head the opposite direction as his, so you don't bump noses, and move slowly so you don't crash your teeth together, then let him kiss you."
"And what exactly does that entail?"
I laughed under my breath. "I can't believe we're seriously having this conversation."
She playful punched my arm. "Don't be mean. I need help here and you've kissed a few girls, so that makes you an expert as far as I'm concerned."
"Shouldn't you maybe ask Melissa about this?"
"And listen to her talk about what it’s like to kiss you? No way! That would be disastrous. She'd probably have me making out with a pillow like in those bad teen movies."
I chuckled. "Yeah, you're probably right." I took a breath. "Okay. When he opens his mouth, part your lips and take one of his between yours. Then kinda move around a little and suck gently."
She scrunched up her face. "That sounds ridiculous when you put it that way."
I kept going because why not? I'd already crossed that line. "He'll probably probe his tongue out and then you do the same, but not too much or it'll be sloppy and weird." I knew that from experience thanks to my homecoming date.
"How do I know when to stop?"
I shrugged. "You can kinda feel when it's done. You'll both slow down and pull back."
She pursed her lips. "And what do I do with my hands?"
The idea of her hands on another guy—and his on her—made me cringe. I forced the lid back onto that box. "Umm, well, you can put them on his neck, or his chest, or in his hair, or move them around."
"So I've got to think about what my mouth is doing and what my hands are doing? That sounds complicated."
"Don't think, just go with it."
She got off her swing and stood in front of me.
"Like this?" She put her hands flat on my chest and my breath hitched as she slowly eased them up to my shoulders. Her eyes were focused on where her hands were, but my gaze was fixed on her and how beautiful she looked under the moonlight. She glided her fingers up my neck and I shivered from the coldness of them, but also from the contact of her bare skin on mine so intimately. Her hands cupped behind my head, then slid up into my hair and she tugged softly.
When she stilled, I swallowed. "P—perfect."
She dropped her hands and grinned. "Thanks. This was helpful." She got back on her swing.
Discreetly, I tried to adjust the crotch of my jeans to hide my excitement. "Glad I could help."
She changed the subject and I did my best to picture naked old ladies to keep my erection at bay.
12
Allie
Summer After 9th Grade
Freshman year was finally over. Kyle had invited me to family dinner at his house because he was leaving the next day for hockey camp. Over that past year, he'd bulked up quite a bit. Between the muscles and him hitting six-feet in height, he no longer looked like a kid. As I'd predicted, he and Melissa had broken up and he'd dated at least five girls since then. Pretty much every girl in school had noticed Kyle's rise on the hotness scale. And since I was his best friend, they all came to me and asked about him. All of the time. I'd told him I was going to start charging him to be his secretary.
"Mrs. H, this shepherd's pie is delicious," I said between bites. Mrs. H was an excellent cook. I suppose it should've been weird because she was my principal, but I was a solid B student and I kept out of trouble, so I was fine with it. Besides, she was basically my second mom.
"I'm glad you like it, Allie."
Family dinners at the Hogan’s were always reserved for just family, but I was practically one of them, so I got invited a lot. Kyle's girlfriends had never liked that because they'd never been invited. Oh well. His choice in women was questionable at best. I'd always thought he could do better, but he went for the pretty ones that lacked...substance. And he never got serious with them.
"You all packed to go, Kyle?" Mr. H asked.
Kyle nodded. "Yup." He'd be in Canada for the next six weeks for a hockey intensive. It was a great opportunity. The program was invite only and Kyle had been chosen to be one of the fifty high school students who got to attend. While he'd always been good at hockey, it was becoming clear that he was exceptional. I wouldn't have been surprised if he’d ended up in the NHL one day.
"Dad, can I go to hockey camp, too?" Dylan asked. All of the Hogan boys had gotten into hockey. The whole family was going to drive Kyle up to Toronto and make a vacation out of it.
"Not this year, but maybe one day if you keep working hard," Mr. H replied as he scraped the last bite onto his fork.
I admired Kyle's dad. He was what a father should be. Unlike mine who’d turned his back on us as though we'd never existed. I tried not to dwell on it, but sometimes when I was around the Hogans it made me a little sad. My mom did her best, but it hadn't been easy for her working full-time and raising three kids alone.
After dinner, Dylan and I did the dishes while Jesse and Ryan cleaned up, giving Kyle some time with his parents. Six weeks alone in Canada was a big deal and I knew how much I was going to miss Kyle; it couldn’t be easy for his parents either. He'd been to sleep away camp before in New Hampshire, but that was only for a month and it was a five-hour drive.
As I was putting the last plate into the dishwasher, Kyle came up behind me and squeezed my sides—where he knew I was ticklish—making me jump and scream. I slapped him in the chest with my wet hands while he laughed like crazy. "It's not funny!"
"Oh, I disagree. It's hilarious."
"Because you're not the one being tickled." I reached up and smushed his spiked up dirty blond hair that I knew he made an effort to gel like that.
"Hey," he scolded as he hopped away. Using his fingers, he tried to put it back into place. "You're so annoying."
"Now you know how I feel," I retorted as I turned off the faucet and dried my hands.
"Want to go to our spot?"
"Sure." I said bye to his family and we walked the few blocks to the playground. The sandy lot was bordered by woods on three sides. A comforting calmness washed over me as the familiar sight of the seesaw, slide, monkey bars, and of course, the swings came into view. It was simple, but it was ours.
Being June, it was still light out at eight o'clock when we got to the swings. The park was almost always empty at night, which was why it worked well when we wanted to go somewhere private.
I sat on my swing. "So, you excited to head out tomorrow?"
"Yeah." He kicked his legs and got his swing going. "But I'll miss you."
"Aw, how cute," I teased.
"Yeah, yeah."
I got my swing up high like his. "I'll miss you, too."
"What are you gonna do this summer?"
"Not sure." I sighed. "I think I'm going to break up with Ian."
He slowed his swing down and looked at me. "Seriously?"
I slowed down as well. "Yeah."
"Why? I thought it was going well."
Ian and I had been dating for four months, but I simply wasn't feeling it anymore. "He's kinda boring."
Kyle laughed.
"I'm serious. All he talks about is sports, which was cool at first, I mean I like sports, but I think that's the only subject he's capable of discussing and it's getting old."
"Huh."
"What?"
"Just surprised."
"Really?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "You've never been thrilled that Ian and I were dating."
"True, but still. I thought you were happy."
"You know, Kyle, I'm still not sure why you've never been a fan of me and Ian. The two of you are friends."
He kicked at the sand. "Guess I think you can do better than Ian Baxter."
"Like who?"
He shrugged and didn't say a word, but I could practically feel him thinking.
"You're not getting off that easy, mister. Tell me."
He ran his hand over his jaw. "Not sure. I have a feeling I'll never think any guy is good enough for you, Al."
"That's weirdly sweet."
He grinned. "It's true though. You deserve the best."
I smiled back. "Well, when you find him, please send him my way because clearly I didn't do a great job of choosing my first boyfriend."
A flash of sadness crossed his eyes, but before I could ask about it, he changed the subject and I respected that. "Let's have a jump competition."
"For real?"
He couldn't be serious. It'd been years since we'd done that.
"Yeah, why not?"
"Umm because you're much taller than me now so you have an unfair advantage."
He pumped his legs to get his swing up higher. "Yeah, but you're lighter so you'll fly further."
I brought my swing up to speed as I considered it. "Is that actually true?"
"No idea, but it sounded good."
We laughed.
"Okay," I acquiesced. "You jump first."
He swung back and forth a few more times before launching into the air and sticking the landing. Super far away.
"I'll never beat that," I shouted.
"Don't be a chicken, Allie. Jump!"
So, I did. As I'd assumed, I fell several feet short of him. "Best out of three?"
"Hell, yeah."
We got back on the swings and played like we were kids again.
13
Kyle
10th Grade - November
After the last football game of the season, Allie dragged me to a house party that Chelsea, one of the senior girls on the cheerleading squad, was throwing. I use the word dragged loosely because I didn't need much convincing. It was our first real high school party. We'd been to a few, but not any of the big ones with students from all of the grades. Naturally, Allie and I went together. Neither of us was dating at th
at moment, although, even if we had been dating, we probably would've still gone together. I always had way more fun with her anyway. It was really no surprise that when it came to Allie, all of my ex-girlfriends had serious jealousy issues. But as far as I was concerned, she'd been my best friend for over a decade, so they could just deal with it or leave because she wasn’t going anywhere.
Chelsea's dad was the CFO of a major bank, so their house put Melissa's to shame. It looked like a freaking castle. Set back from the road, there was an iron gate at the end of the stone driveway, which led to the giant stone structure complete with a turret. It was opulence at its best.
Tyler had driven us there, but when we’d arrived, he sought out his friends and we went off on our own. There were kegs in the kitchen and an actual ping pong table was set up in the living room where some guys were playing beer pong.
"Want a beer?" I asked Allie as I reached for a red plastic cup.
"Um, sure."
I knew she'd never really drank before, beyond having a few sips here and there. I poured one from the keg like a pro and handed it to her.
"Something you wanna tell me?" she asked.
I smirked. "I may have attended a few parties at hockey camp over the summer." The drinking age in Toronto was nineteen so it had been easy for a lot of the older guys to get convincing fake IDs.
She gasped and pretended to be hurt. It was cute. "You got drunk without me?"
I finished filling up my cup. "Not drunk, no. But I've had one or two beers." Getting drunk for the first time was one of those milestones and I hadn't felt right doing it without Allie.
She took a tentative sip.
I couldn't fight the grin.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing. You're cute."
She rolled her eyes at me. "Whatever." She hated it when I called her cute. According to her, cute was for children. Truth was, I thought she was gorgeous—sexy as hell in that cheer uniform she was wearing—but telling her that wouldn't come across as friendly.
We weaved through the crowd and found our group in the den along with several of the football players and cheerleaders, including Chelsea. Normally, you wouldn't be able to pay me enough to hang out with Chelsea, but I figured it wouldn't be so bad at a big party. She was one of those stereotypical mean girls just because she was pretty, popular, and had a sizable trust fund.
