Kiss List (7 page)

The kiss list was done. When I got home that night after confessing to David I took the list, crunched it up into a little ball, and hurled it into the trash can underneath my desk. Then I sent a text to the girls: “No more kissing.” I wanted to forget that the list had ever existed. Unfortunately, it was too late. I had already caught the attention of the queen of Lakeville High School, Missy James herself.

With great difficulty, Alyssa and Payton managed to drag me to a party on Friday night. I wanted nothing to do with the people at school. Seeing everyone the day after the fight had been horrible. I kept waiting for someone to accuse me of starting it. The thought of being surrounded by them sounded like hell. Alyssa and Payton insisted, however, that I could not spent the rest of my high school career hiding in my room, as I had told them I planned to do. The devious little traitors invited me to a comedy club show and once I was Alyssa’s flowery car they announced that we were going to a party at Chloe Walker’s house.

“No!” I cried. “Turn this car around right now! I told you I’m not going to be around those people. They hate me.”

“Step on it, Alyssa,” Payton said. “Sadie, are you kidding? They don’t hate you. They think you’re a legend.”

“What?” I said skeptically.

“It’s true,” Alyssa said. “Molly Tate told me that she heard five boys were fighting over you and then you made out with all of them afterwards.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “You really need to stop listening to Molly Tate.”

“I heard something similar from the cheerleaders,” Payton said. “Luckily the sophomore girls have been pretty quiet. If they knew what you did to Sam they would go nuts. Seriously, those girls would cut you.”

“Well that’s just perfect,” I said. “The entire school thinks I’m a slut.”

“The entire school thinks you’re the coolest girl ever!” Payton said. “The girls are all jealous and the guys want to know what they’re missing. We shouldn’t be throwing out the kiss list, we should be expanding it! You can get any guy you want now.”

I shook my head furiously. “No,” I said firmly. “The kiss list is gone. I’m done hurting boys.”

Payton sighed. “Suit yourself. Such a waste,” she said.

Chloe’s house was an enormous brown brick building with large white pillars out front, an attached four-car garage to the side, and a pool in the back. Both her parents were doctors so she was loaded. They were far too trustworthy and went to East Coast to visit Chole’s ailing grandmother several times a year. When they did, Choe hosted parties fueled by a keg that her older cousin would bring in return for a handsome profit. Missing one of her parties was equivalent to social suicide because people talked about them for months afterwards. If you couldn’t partake in the discussion, all you could do was listen to everyone else and look like a loser.

We were handed drinks by eager boys as soon as we walked inside the house. We politely took them and then set them aside and got new red plastic cups from beside the keg when the boys weren’t looking. Even though we knew everyone at the party, we had been well warned by our parents not to take drinks we hadn’t been in constant watch over. We filled our cups with water instead. Most of time, people saw the red cup and assumed we were drinking beer. In the rare occasions that they actually looked into our cups, we would say that we couldn’t
drink because our “lame” parents always checked us when we got home and threatened to report us to the school if we ever drank. We were willing to risk being grounded, we would say, but the school’s strict “alcohol equals no participation” policy was too daunting. Sports were cool so that excuse was enough to get us off the hook and even garner some sympathy for having to put up with our parents.

In spite of my earlier trepidation, the party was fun. There were a lot of soccer girls there and we laughed and joked about our last game and the hissy fit Coach
Dumfy had thrown before we turned the table on the other team and won. We actually had a reasonable shot at getting to state this year. I also made a concerted effort to talk to non-soccer players, however. I knew I had a tendency to hang around my friends and teammates but school was more than just them. There were all sorts of other people I knew from classes and other activities that I wanted to make sure I talked to.

I ventured out into the backyard by the pool and heard someone call my name. When I looked around, however, I surprised by who was looking at me expectantly.

“Sadie?” Paul Dolan said again. The hulking basketball star had a red cup in each hand as though he were double fisting – drinking from both – the drinks.

“Uh, yeah?”
I asked hesitantly. I knew of Paul but had never spoken to him before and didn’t think he had known that I existed. He was a senior and something of a class clown who still hung out with the popular kids. Sometimes I had seen him pick on smaller kids. His bloated head had small eyes that always seemed to have a bored and malicious look in them. I avoided him as much as possible but that was impossible to do now that he had spoken to me directly.

“I know,” Paul said and gave me an exaggerated wink. Then he burped.

I looked around for help but none of my close friends were nearby. I did see Sam, surrounded by a pack of flirty girls, eying me from across the yard but he certainly was not going to be much help. “What do you know, Paul?” I asked, reluctantly taking the bait.

“I know you like me,” Paul said. “I heard it.”

My heart sank. This conversation was definitely not going the way I wanted it to. “Who did you hear that from?” I asked.

Paul giggled. “I’m not supposed to tell,” he said. “But it was Missy.”

That really caught me off guard. I hadn’t said a word to Missy all year. I looked around for her and finally picked her out of the crowd. She was talking intently to Graham Knight but I saw her eyes flicker briefly in my direction. It didn’t make any sense. Why would Missy tell Paul that?

“Are you sure you heard that right?” I asked Paul.

Paul gave a long, loud belch. “S’cuse me,” he said. “Nope. Yep, I heard it right alright. Yeah, Missy said you told her that you had a crush on me. I didn’t know who you were but she showed me a picture and I figured sure, you looked hot, we might as well get it on.”

Might as well get it on? Oh no. “Are you sure Missy isn’t secretly the one who has a crush on you?” I asked. “Sometimes girls will tell you that another girl is interested in you to see how you react. What they really want is for you show you’re not interested and ask them out instead.” Well, that reasoning didn’t make much sense to me, but maybe Paul was drunk and thick enough that it would to him.

Paul scrunched up his face as if deep in thought. “No,” he finally said after mulling it over. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Missy liked me but she’s taken. Her and Trevor are dating. They just made it exclusive a couple days ago, whatever that means. So no, I’m all yours.”

I stared at him helplessly. He was not taking my not-so-subtle hints that I wasn’t interested. Now I was out of hints. “I’m sorry, Paul,” I said as delicately and kindly as I could. “I think you are a great guy and an amazing basketball player.” Paul gave me a toothy grin at that. “But I just sort of got out of a relationship,” I continued, “and I am not ready to get back into one.
Maybe later in the year or next year or something.” I prayed he was going to school out of state next year.

Paul wobbled drunkenly like he was about to pass out but then his eyes narrowed dangerously. “What? Are you saying you don’t like me?”

“I’m sorry Paul,” I said. “I do like you as a person, I’m just not ready for a relationship now.”

“Fine.
That’s fine,” Paul said, though he didn’t look fine. “I understand.”

“Thank you,” I said. I turned to walk away from him. I wanted to quickly find my friends and get out of here. The night had just taken a very weird turn and I didn’t like it.

“You’ve got something on your back,” I heard Paul say behind me.

Then I felt something bump into my back hard and I lost my balance as I tumbled forward. I reached out with my hands to stop my fall but the only thing in front of me was the pool.

I splashed into the pool and immediately sank into its depths. I yelled in surprise at the sudden sensation of the cold water against my skin. I clawed my way back to the surface and felt my clothes, heavy with the weight of the water, resist.

When my head finally broke through to the surface the first thing I heard was laughter. As I tried to wipe the water out of my eyes I could only make out blurry faces surrounding the pool, looking down at me. Then I heard another splash and a moment later I felt hand grab hold of my arms. I tried to jerk away from them but then heard a familiar voice say in my ear, “Sadie! It’s okay. It’s me. I’ve got you.”

It was Dylan.

I stopped fighting and let Dylan guide me to the edge of the pool.

“Do you want to...” he started to say.

“Just get me out of here,” I whispered to him as the laughter continued. “Please.”

Dylan put one arm around me and used his other arm to push his way through the crowd. Paul was still standing and sneering in the spot where he had shouldered me into the pool. I heard a few other people try to speak to me but I ignored them. As soon as we got to the gate of the fence and he opened it I bolted through to the front yard. “Sadie. Sadie!” Dylan yelled. A moment later he caught up to me and I felt him throw his arms around me.

“Stop running,” he said. “It’s okay. My car is right here.”

I let him hold me. The night fall air felt cool against my wet skin and so I pressed myself against him. I could feel the warmth of his body through his wet clothing. And then I started to cry.

“Don’t cry,” he said as he stroked my head gently. He held me like that until my sobbing had turned to sniffles.

“Sadie, are you okay?” another voice said. Missy’s face suddenly appeared beside Dylan’s shoulder.

I nearly jumped back when I saw her. “What do you want?” I asked, unsuccessfully trying to stifle the sniffles.

“To make sure you were alright, of course,” Missy said. I saw her slip a phone into her purse. Had she been taking pictures of me in the pool? Crying? “I saw the idiot Paul push you. I can’t believe he did that. I’m so sorry he bothered you. I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”

“Like when you told him that I liked him?” I asked angrily.

“Is that what he told you?” Missy said. “I don’t know why he would have lied like that. Oh, I remember now, your name did come up once. Graham - my boyfriend - asked who you were. He said he had heard you were the reason why that big fight started. I was talking about you and Paul must have overheard. He was so drunk he must have misunderstood what I said.”

“So... so you what?” I sputtered. “You were jealous that your boyfriend asked about me? That maybe boys were fighting about me at school? So you decided to sabotage me with Paul?”

The mask of kindness instantly fell from Missy’s face to reveal one of rage. “I am not jealous of you!” she seethed. “Graham isn’t interested in you. We’re exclusive now. And if those other boys fought over you the only reason was because they thought you were easy,” her eyes flickered to Dylan and back to me. “Have sex with all of them and they might fight over you but you still won’t be as popular as me.”

Dylan and I were speechless. We watched her turn on her heel and storm away in stunned silence.

When Missy was out of sight Dylan shook his head in amazement. “Wow, I actually feel sorry for her,” he said. “She is so twisted and evil that it’s almost like she believes her own garbage.” He let go of me, punched the fuel door on his car, and retrieved a set of keys he had hidden there. “I leave my keys here for soccer. It’s sort of become a habit,” he said by way of explanation.

Dylan opened the trunk and retrieved a towel, which he handed to me. “Do you have one for yourself?” I asked.

“Only the one,” Dylan responded. “You take it.” He took off his shirt and then patted down and wrung out his shorts. I realized that I was staring at his bare chest and abs, glistening
with water, and forced myself to look away as I toweled off. What was going on with me? I had gone from never having kissed a boy to being boy crazy.

We didn’t say much as Dylan drove me home. That was
good, there was not much I wanted to say. I was too embarrassed from falling into the pool and then crying in front of him. In fact, I never wanted to say anything to anyone again. Maybe I could change schools so I would never have to look into the faces of everyone who laughed at me and have to answer their stupid questions. Or maybe we could just keep driving around forever like this.

My house drew gradually closer, however. When we were a block away Dylan pulled the car over.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “My house is just up there.”

“Yeah, and last time I stopped there for more than a second your dad almost killed me,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to have a moment with you before I let you go.” Then he reached over me into his glove compartment and took out his phone.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“People can be jerks,” Dylan said. “You’re beautiful. You’re the most talented soccer player at our school. Well,” he said with a smile, “the most talented female soccer player, anyway. People are jealous of you and some of them are going to enjoy seeing you embarrassed. So I think we should shut all those people up and show that you were not embarrassed and have moved on. I want you to kiss me right here, right now, and I will take a picture and upload it to
Facebook. The story tomorrow is not going to be Sadie Anderson falling into a pool. It’s going to be Sadie Anderson, life of the party, going for a swim and then finding some incredibly good-looking stud to make out with.”

I couldn’t prevent a giggle escaping my lips as I heard how Dylan
refer to himself as a “incredibly good-looking stud.” Though in truth, he was right. His brown hair was still damp and clung to his forehead but his cute brown eyes seem to shine with his usual playful excitement. His seat belt stretched across his lean shirtless body. And those abs... they were not quite as well-defined or muscular as Sam’s or David’s but they were still beautiful. Dylan was so skinny that I felt like I could wrap my hands around his waist.

This was a beautiful boy and he was kind to me. My heart filled with appreciation and happiness. I leaned forward and kissed him. I felt Dylan reach out and take a picture with one arm as we kissed but my attention was on him and those lips of his that felt so amazing against mine.

Dylan pulled back and looked at the picture. “It worked!” he said. “We got it.”

I was not done, however. His lips felt too good. I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned farther across the center console to kiss him.

Dylan laughed. “I said we got it, Sadie.” When I kissed him again, however, he got the message. He returned my kiss. I felt his tongue tease mine and then he laid back and unbuckled his seat belt. He reclined his seat, rested his hand on my hip, and applied light pressure. It was an invitation for me to join him.

I didn’t hesitate. I slid over the console and kneeled on either side of his seat, straddling him. He tilted his head up to look into my face. I bent my head down and placed my mouth on his. We began to kiss again and I felt his hands sliding down my body, feeling me, pulling me in closer to him so our bodies were like one. The smell of hair and body was intoxicating to me. This boy didn’t wear cheap colon or body spray. His car carried his usually hint of musky colon, enough to overpower the smell of salt from Chloe’s salt-water pool, and other than that he just smelled clean.
Sexy and clean. It was hot.

I had an urge to take my shirt off. I wanted to feel my skin against his, to get closer to him. When I felt his fingers begin to lift up the edges of my shirt, however, I stopped kissing him. I wasn’t ready for that. “I’m sorry, Dylan, I...”

“Don’t worry,” Dylan said a light voice. “Seriously, I want to take this slowly. We’ve gone far enough for one night. Sit back. I’ll take you home.”

Dylan did not waste any time in my driveway. Once I was out of the car he backed into the street. He really did not want another run in with my dad. I noticed, however, that he idled in the street until he saw that I closed the door behind me safely.

I bounded up to my room and logged onto Facebook. Sure enough, Dylan had already uploaded the picture of us. We looked soaking wet but also very happy and like we were in love. Below the picture he had added the caption, “Yep sorry boys I got the girl!!!”

I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes. Thoughts of Dylan swirled in my head. He had almost made me forget the torture I went through at the party.
Almost. A thought had just popped into my head.

I got up and reached under my desk for my trash can. When I got it I reached in and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. I opened it up and smoothed it flat against the top of my desk. It was the kiss list.

I grabbed a red marker and scanned the list. I added a smiley face next to Dylan’s name. I knew it was girly but I couldn’t help it. Just seeing his name made me feel so happy I needed to express it somehow. Then I found another name. I took my pen and carefully circled the words “Graham Knight” over and over again.

This one was going to be for Missy.