Girl on the Run (15 page)

I
sat on a stool with my hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea. The kitchen had been dead quiet since I burst through the door and dropped my bombshell. Lewis leaned against the counter studying my face. The cinnamon bun dough lay in a blob, forgotten on the floured surface. “How long have you felt like this?” he asked.

“Since I saw Lacey dancing with Kirk.”

He glanced toward the door. “When was that?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” I sniffed.

Lewis adjusted his glasses. “Um, this seems out of the blue,” he said. “Are you sure? I think you're jealous.”

“But it would explain all the kissing problems,” I said.

“Kissing problems?”

I related the celery issue with Keith, and Devin's invasive technique. “I'm wondering if it's me who's the difficult one, not the guys.”

“You're crazy.”

“Lewis!”

“Seriously,” he said. “If Lacey were here right now, would you want to kiss her?”

I made a face. “Of course not, I hate her.”

“That's not what I mean.”

I stared into my tea. “No,” I admitted. “I wouldn't.”

“So…”

“I guess I'm not gay.”

“You sound disappointed.”

I pressed my lips in a thin line. “That leaves only one conclusion,” I said.

“I can't wait to hear this.”

“I must be a terrible kisser.”

“Oh my god.” He closed his eyes.

I put down my mug. “Maybe I should become a nun and put this all behind me.” I looked to Lewis for support.

“I don't think the abbey could handle you.” Then he smiled. “Or maybe you haven't kissed the right guy yet.”

“But if I'm a horrible kisser, then I'll turn off the right guy as soon as I kiss him.”

“But if he's the right guy the kiss will be amazing.”

I thought of Chloe's kissing clause. A weight of hopelessness settled in my heart. I folded my arms on the table and laid down my head. “This sucks,” I mumbled. “The more guys I kiss, the more horrible my summer gets.” I sniffed. “Maybe I should practice on grapefruit or something. We could invite Cabin 4A to watch and critique. That would be fabulous, huh?”

“You're overthinking this.” Lewis sounded like he was biting back a laugh.

“No, trust me. That's what would happen. I should face the next humiliation straight on the chin, no more surprises.” I pushed myself off the stool and went over to the large basket of fruit on the far counter and picked up an orange.

“Hey fella,” I said seductively. “Looking for a good time?” I flicked my tongue over its dimpled surface.

“Oh, Christ. Please stop.” Lewis took the orange from me. “I don't want to have to explain this to a therapist someday.”

“Bugger off.” I grabbed for the orange. “That's my date for the night.”

Lewis's long arms stretched out of my reach. He plopped the orange back in the basket. We both stared at the citrus for a few minutes. Then Lewis shifted his weight closer and let out a long sigh. “What if,” he started, his voice careful, “…what if I kissed you.”

I looked at him sideways, “You want to kiss me?”

His expression was pained. “Well, no, but I don't want you miserable either.” He cleared his throat. “You need an objective opinion about your…technique, right?”

I glanced at the half finished mound of dough on the counter. Lewis probably wished I'd never burst through the door. “But what if my technique does need work?” I asked.

We both glanced at the fruit basket.

“One step at a time.” The colour was high in Lewis's cheeks. He raised his eyebrows at me. “Okay?”

I nodded. Then we both stood there staring at each other. “Um…should we just, you know, start?” I asked.

“You start,” he said. His Adam's apple moved up and down.

I was the same height as Lewis with the wedge sandals on. I put my hands on his shoulders. He shuffled closer and put a hand on my waist. “Okay,” I said. I wanted to lick my lips so they wouldn't be dry, but I felt too close to him. I leaned in, then stopped.

“What?” he asked.

“Should I close my eyes?”

“If you want.”

Another pause. “Are you going to take off your glasses?” I asked.

“I hadn't planned on it.”

“Oh.” I could feel my pulse in my throat. “Hold on,” I said, leaning back. “What kind of kiss are you expecting?”

“Your best effort.”

I swallowed. “I mean, specifically. Like, what are my boundaries? If I were doing the same for another girl…I'd want her to be, you know, careful.”

A hint of a smile curled at the edge of Lewis' mouth. “Open mouth, but no tongue.”

I let out a breath. “Got it.” Then I closed my eyes and kissed him. His lips were perfectly soft and moved slowly with mine. I only had one shot with Lewis. I began to worry the kiss had gone on too long, and that I should have set up a time limit as well. I was about to pull back and mention this when we were interrupted.

“Lewis?”

There was a comic suction sound as we quickly unfastened ourselves, then turned our heads in the direction of the voice.

“Um…I'll come back later?” Kirk said, looking completely confused.

“That's okay,” Lewis said, sounding a little too bored for my liking. “I think we're done here.”

I stepped out of the embrace, amazed my hair wasn't on fire from embarrassment. I should have known; Kirk had some kind of homing device that alerted him to my most vulnerable situations.

Kirk was still staring at us. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No,” I said. “It's okay, I was just going.”

I ran past him and pushed through the door back into the dance. I zigzagged my way through the throng of gyrating bodies and almost made it to the doorway.

“Just Jesse,” he said, grabbing my wrist.

“Get away,” I almost cried. “I can't take any more.”

“What?”

I looked at the floor. “You always find me in every embarrassing situation.”

The music changed to a slow song. Kirk's feet stayed in front of mine, blocking the way. I kept my head down, wishing he would move to the side and let me escape. I could be tucked in right now, comfortable in my soccer shirt instead of being propped up on stilts looking like an extra on
Gossip Girl
. Enter loser, stage right.

Kirk's fingers left my wrist and held my hand. “Dance with me,” he said. I didn't say anything. I felt numb and boneless.

He led me between the other couples to a clear spot in the middle of the room. My legs were made of Jell-O. He linked my fingers behind his neck then pressed his hand against my back. We began to sway side to side. After a few beats of music I turned my face toward his. He was grinning.

“Stop it,” I said.

“I'm not allowed to smile when I'm dancing with you?”

“You're laughing at me.”

“That's nothing new; I've been laughing since you got here.”

We did a few rotations in silence. I could feel the heat from his hands radiate through my dress.

“I saw you leave looking upset,” he explained. “I guess I should have knocked first.” The playful hint in his voice was obvious.

“What you saw in the kitchen…isn't what you think.”

Kirk didn't even break rhythm. “I've known Lewis for a few years. I don't consider him competition. By the way, he said your concerns are unfounded and that he's glad you didn't break his nose. I'm assuming you know what that means.”

I stayed quiet, feeling my ears grow warmer, wishing my hair covered them.

“You're a little taller tonight,” he said.

I couldn't help but notice our mouths were perfectly lined up at the same height. “I should have worn flats. I feel like an Amazon warrior.”

“It suits you.”

“Oh.”

His hand moved up my back, resting on the bare skin between my shoulder blades. “It's nice dancing with you, I don't get neck strain.”

“Thanks,” I whispered. My finger managed to wrap itself around one of the black waves lying against the back of his neck. Something was happening. I pressed into Kirk, moving with the music, acutely aware of each spot our bodies connected. Everyone else in the room disappeared.

I closed my eyes and breathed in. He was spicy and sweet at the same time, layers of deodorant and aftershave combined with toothpaste and shampoo. The combination made me dizzy—but in a good way. I pictured him swimming ahead of me, then pulling himself up on the dock, standing there waiting for me.

I definitely had proof I wasn't gay. In fact, I couldn't believe I wasn't spontaneously combusting on the spot. I was loopy with pheromone overload.

Feeling way too brave, I let my check brush against his. “Remember in the lake,” I said, “when you asked about getting even?”

The song ended, and the fast tempo of the next selection brought a crowd around us. But we stayed still.

“Kirk!” Lacey arrived, breathless. “I've been looking for you.”

I let my arms drop and backed up a few steps. I'm sure my face showed off a nice neon shade of red.

He said, “I was about to walk Jesse back to her cabin.” He looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

“Let's go,” I said.

We left Lacey with her arms folded across her chest, sporting a confused pout.

The grass was cool through my sandals and the latest rain had cleared the humidity, but the weather was the last thing on my mind. As we walked away from the main hall, Kirk and I said nothing. We didn't cough or sniffle. All the way back to Cabin 4A, we were in deafening silence.

I reached the bottom step of the cabin, then turned to see him stop a few feet from me.

I smiled and my teeth felt stupid. Everything felt stupid. “Well, this is me,” I said. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, like he was waiting for something.

“I'm wondering,” I said. “What it would be like to have a normal day with you?”

He looked pleased with my question. “Very boring,” he said, leaning closer. “It's much more fun surprising you in the lake.”

And there it was. That sweet and spicy smell that made me automatically smile.

Crap. I've turned into a cupette!

Kirk reached out and brushed a wave of hair off my shoulder. I stared back, holding my breath.

A bang from inside the cabin made us jump. The door burst open and out tumbled the twins, wrestling on the spot.

Liam screamed, “You shithead!”

Kirk rushed past me to break up the fight. Grunts and pants were peppered with more of Liam's curses.

“Stop it!” I ran up the steps as Kirk pulled Duff off Liam.

“Knock it off!” Kirk held Duff by the shoulders as I pushed Liam back.

They glared at each other, red faced and breathing hard, with their polo shirts twisted and half pulled off. Duff began to sign wildly.

“How was I supposed to know?” Liam yelled back.

“What's going on?” I asked.

Duff began to sign again.

“Why are you pissed at me?” Liam said. “It's not my fault she doesn't like you.”

Duff lunged at his brother again, almost getting out of Kirk's firm grip.

Spencer and Scotty clambered up the steps with two of the cupettes following behind. Duff dropped his head and tugged free of Kirk's hold.

“Let's take this inside,” I said.

Half an hour
later, Kirk and I stood on the porch. The boys were quiet in their bunks. Earlier, Lacey had taken her charges back to their cabin.

I gripped the porch railing. “It's my fault,” I said.

“It was an honest mistake.”

“How could I be so stupid?” I cringed. “You saw the look on his face. He's so hurt.”

“He's twelve,” Kirk reasoned.

I crossed my arms in from of my chest. “What she did was stupid and cruel,” I said.

Kirk looked surprised. “You sound like you care.”

Lacey danced up the steps. Her pink sweater was wrapped around her shoulders. “We'll have to meet with Susan,” she said.

“Is that really necessary?” I asked.

“She thought he was Liam!” Lacey said. “It was a mean joke to play.”

“It wasn't a joke,” I said. “It was a misunderstanding. And speaking of mean, your little snotty-faced crybaby owes Duff an apology.”

Lacey's mouth dropped open. “An apology?” she said.

“It means saying you're sorry,” I said.

“I know what it means,” she glared. “Diana is so upset she can't concentrate on the decorating contest.”

“Who gives a shit?” I said.

Kirk moved between us. “It's too late for this,” he said. “I'll let Susan know in the morning.”

Lacey stood on the porch, not moving. “It's dark,” she said. “Kirk, please walk me back to my cabin.”