by Erica Kiefer
Shane’s kiss was the first thing I remembered when I awoke in bed Saturday morning. I had replayed the scene repeatedly in my mind, recalling the startling way our kiss began, and then how I’d allowed it to transform into something I wanted—something I needed.
Regret hit my empty stomach.
My hands rubbed at my eyes, and I ran a hand through my loose, wavy hair. I groaned and sat up in bed, draping my head over my knees. I shouldn’t have allowed the kiss to happen. It didn’t mean anything. I knew Shane wouldn’t think twice about it, and I wondered if I should feel used.
But I had used him, too. Maddie’s death lingered over me like a rain cloud, every day threatening to pour down the accompanying guilt and despair linked with her memories. I’d enjoyed the temporary amnesia from constantly thinking about her. I supposed that made Shane and me even. We both got what we wanted, and we could move on.
My cell phone chirped, signaling a text message. It was from Shane and read, “Good morning, beautiful. Do I get to see you today?”
Wait, what?
I read the text one more time, confusion hitting my eyebrows. What happened to the one-night stand idea? Not that I liked the idea, but it was certainly easier than… whatever Shane’s text implied.
In less than thirty minutes, I was dressed in warm running gear, an iPod attached to my arm and headphones dangling loosely around my neck.
“Allie, are you sure you want to run this morning?” Mom asked from the breakfast table. She took a bite of pancakes from the plate she’d put together for me, claiming them after I politely declined. “It’s cold out there. Why don’t you wait for it to warm up this afternoon?”
I lifted my shoe onto the chair to tie my lime-green shoelaces, a brilliant contrast to the black Asics encasing my feet. “It’s just one of those mornings,” I said, the line I always used if I’d had a Maddie-related nightmare or a case of insomnia. Mom knew that running cleared my head and often helped me sleep better at night. She never questioned me once I released my key phrase. I felt bad for lying this time, but I didn’t feel like hashing out boy issues with her right now. I would figure it out.
My feet hit the pavement, thumping in steady repetition. The chilly November air folded me in its embrace and I fought against it, my muscles fighting to warm up and push through the cold. Saturday mornings were often peaceful at this time. Cars that normally sped by on the way to work rested quietly in their garages. Doors and windows remained shut while families enjoyed their day off together. I passed a few people walking their dogs, a few joggers… I returned a friendly nod and kept running. Eyes didn’t follow me, wondering if I was ok or pausing to judge my behavior. I didn’t have to accept advice or explain how I was feeling. I simply ran until I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and feel my breath inhale and exhale methodically.
Three miles out, I paused to catch my breath, my chest slightly burning from the cold. I wiggled my fingers for warmth and stretched my tight hamstring. A car pulled up alongside the road with the window rolled down. Tara called out to me.
“Good morning, crazy girl!”
I walked over to the window and peered inside. Resting my hands on the window frame, my fingers appreciated the flow of heat from the vents. I needed to start wearing gloves. “Hi, Tara. What are you doing here?”
“I stopped by and your mom told me your route, so I thought I’d pick you up for breakfast. We need to talk!” Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she smiled knowingly.
I groaned. “What is it you think we need to talk about?”
“Oh, stop it already. I know about you and Shane. Come on, get in here! Let’s grab some breakfast.”
Hesitation and annoyance dragged my movement, but I relented. It was better that I explained the situation to her than allow Tara to spread faulty news. There was enough of that going on already. Stepping into the car, the radio blared the latest hits. I took a final glance at the peaceful, empty sidewalk with longing.
We drove to a café just down the block. Tara sipped on hot chocolate while I wrapped my hands around a mug of herbal tea. Blueberry muffins sat between us on our small, round table for two.
“What do you mean—you’re confused?” Tara asked, leaning towards me. “This is awesome! Me and Austin—you and Shane. It doesn’t get any cooler than best friends dating best friends!”
“So you’ve said,” I murmured, picking at the streusel on my muffin. This whole thing started because of that ridiculous notion of hers. I rubbed the grains of sugar between my fingers. “Shane’s hot and everything, but I’m not sure there’s more to our relationship than that.” I reflected on the fumbled conversations we’d had so far, none of which were inspiring, or comforting in the least.
Tara put her muffin down from her mouth. “Well, don’t you think there could be? You’ve only hung out a couple of times.”
“I don’t know,” I said, “But right now, he’s a temporary distraction and I’m content to leave it at that.”
Tara tapped her finger on the table as though stifling impatience. “That’s not how he describes it from his end.” She held out her iPhone, scrolling through text messages between her and Austin. Some of them were texts between Shane and Austin that had made their way to Tara.
One text from Shane in particular caught my eye. “I don’t know, man. There’s something about her that I really like. She’s a little tough to crack, but I’m up for the challenge.”
I didn’t know if I should feel flattered or irritated at being perceived and discussed as a “challenge.” And didn’t the term “crack” suggest I was a nut?
“The point is,” Tara interrupted, “he likes you, and I really think you two could hit it off.”
“Why do you care so much?” I asked, not hiding the annoyance in my tone.
“Because Allie, it’s been fun going out on dates and to parties with you. It almost feels like it used to be, you know… before.” Tara dropped her lashes momentarily, rubbing her lips together with uncertainty. She glanced back up at me, probably wondering if I caught her meaning. Of course I did. All anyone wanted was for me to go “back to normal,” so they could cross me off their list of worries and return to their normal life, too.
I stood up, wrapping a napkin around my muffin and unintentionally molding my grip into it. “Let’s just get out of here, ok? Thanks for buying breakfast.” Before I could stalk out the door, Tara grabbed my wrist, standing so her eyes met mine.
“Look, I’m sorry, ok? I know your cousin’s death still affects you. I’m your best friend—I understand how you feel.” I fidgeted at her last statement, but she carried on unaware. “Allie, I’m not trying to be rude, but at some point, don’t you think it’s time to move on? You can’t let Maddie’s death hold you prisoner. She wouldn’t want that for you.”
I didn’t like her speaking for Maddie, like she knew her. Tara knew next to nothing about her. My eyes brimmed without my consent. I swallowed hard, hoping to somehow drain the tears before they spilled over. “Tara… don’t you think that if I could forget about Maddie’s death, I would? Do you really think I’m choosing to feel this way?” If I’d learned anything so far, it was that grief didn’t have a switch to conveniently turn on and off. On the contrary, sometimes it felt like grief flew on autopilot, navigating my emotions against my will.
Tara wrapped her arms around me momentarily. She faced me again with her hands on my shoulders. Her olive-green eyes glistened just a bit. “Maybe it’s time you at least talked about it. Nobody knows exactly what happened out there but you. That’s why all those stupid rumors are going around. People probably wouldn’t care so much, except that you’re being so secretive about the whole thing that it peaks their interest.” She grabbed one of my hands. “I’m your best friend and even I don’t know what happened. She just fell in… right?”
I fell back into my chair, glancing out the window. “No good will come from me rehashing that day—trust me.” My mouth tightened, teeth clenched.
Tara put up her hands with a shake of her head. “Ok, fine. I get it. Keep it to yourself if you think that’s best. But I just hate to see everything you’ve worked for at this point in high school get kicked to the curb. We could have a lot of fun this year.” She peered at me earnestly. “It’s your senior year. It’ll be gone before you know it.”
I stared back at her. “Is this why you brought up Shane today? You want me to embrace senior year by pretending to like him?”
Tara shifted her stance. “Not ‘pretend’ necessarily. But give him a chance. I think it’d be helpful for you to have something else to think about.”
While I could agree that the distraction with Shane over the last week had been refreshing, I didn’t know how helpful it could be in the long run. I told Tara I’d consider it and asked her to let it be for now.
When she dropped me off at my doorstep, I didn’t return with the clear head I’d hoped for. I frowned at the Lexus parked in my driveway. Someone quite wealthy was visiting my house—or at least the son of someone quite wealthy. With anticipation, I stepped into the house.
Shane sat on my couch, chatting comfortably with Mom, while Leah and Taylor peeked at him from the hallway. I glared at the two of them, and they smothered giggles. Shane and Mom turned my way.
“Hi, honey! Your friend stopped by…” She raised her eyebrows at me and failed to contain a teasing smile.
Oh, come on... Her, too? I knew she would love nothing more than to believe I was hanging out with friends and even dating again. Maybe she was the one planting ideas in Tara’s head.
I met Shane’s penetrating gaze. Despite the annoyance at myself for kissing him, I couldn’t help the instantaneous butterflies in my stomach. Some of my confusion flew out the window as a magnet of attraction drew me towards him. I couldn’t help but like the way he was checking me out, even with Mom present. There was an arrogance about him that both repelled and lured me. Tightening my tousled ponytail, I asked, “Shane, what are you doing here?”
He stood up and closed the gap between us. Mom also rose to her feet, watching us carefully as if she were trying to clue in on the status of our relationship.
Good luck with that.
“You never responded to my text,” Shane said. “So I figured that meant you wouldn’t mind if I stopped by.”
“That was your conclusion, huh?” I folded my arms but released a half-smile, realizing I didn’t entirely mind him being there. It was easier to write him off when he wasn’t standing in my presence—especially with his cologne baiting me.
“I thought we could team up and sell raffle tickets together this afternoon,” Shane suggested.
Raffle tickets… I’d forgotten we needed to go door to door in support of our basketball fundraiser. “Uh, sure, if that’s how you want to spend your Saturday,” I said.
Shane puffed out his chest, deepening his voice for effect. “Well, you know, with our powers combined…”
“Our powers being?”
Shane smirked. “Well, obviously, I have all the charm. We just need to hope women open the door.” Noticing my jaw drop in disgust, he added, “And you have all the wit!” When I still appeared less than impressed by his chauvinistic sales pitch, he continued, “My looks will lure them in, and you can hook them with an intelligent, convincing speech about our basketball teams’ need for cash. The girls’ team was all the rage last year at Sectionals, so your part shouldn’t be hard.”
I scoffed at him. “When you put it that way, I have the know-how and the reputation. Sounds like you need me more than I need you. That’s why you really came by, isn’t it?”
Shane took a step closer. He lowered his voice, his fingers lightly touching my hand. “What do you think?” He paused to briefly trace his finger along the back of my hand. “You don’t really think I forgot about last night so easily, did you?”
I swallowed, my nerves dancing inside me. I cast my eyes in search of Mom, but she, thankfully, had already stepped out of the room—probably to chase away my spying sisters, who were also nowhere to be seen.
I had a decision to make, and only moments to do it. Everything about my response would determine where Shane and I were headed. The question remained—to acquiesce or shut him down? The natural chemistry between us grew every time I saw him. There was no doubt about that. Perhaps I’d discover more depth to his personality, like Tara said. Or maybe I could just go through the motions long enough to thwart everyone’s ongoing assessment of me.
My lashes slowly drew upwards to meet Shane’s striking features. Placing a tentative hand on his arm, I smiled.
“Of course not. And I’d love to go with you.”
