His Kiss (15 page)

“I didn’t know that,” I finally managed to choke out.

Destiny was still so red. She rolled her eyes. “I know. I was too embarrassed to tell you—and hurt. It was embarrassing!” She looked down at the ground and then into my eyes. “That night was so humiliating! I didn’t want to talk about it—I wanted to forget it ever happened.”

She gave me a wan smile. “Well, I better get to class. Good luck with whatever guy you go with.”

She said the last part over her shoulder as she was walking away and she said it like she was still jealous of me. Like I should be glad I was having all these guy problems, like it was a big party she wished she could be invited to.

She had no clue. But she was my good friend, so her words and wistfulness tugged at my heart.

“Destiny!” I chased after her and gave her a hug.

***

In cooking class we made pumpkin cookies with chocolate chips and I ended up putting mine into two separate
baggies
. One
bag
for Aiden … the other for Griffin.

I had promised myself all through class I would give them all to Aiden. Swore I’d be strong and swear off Griffin for good. But then, all through class, I kept thinking about Griffin’s text message in study hall,
Don’t
delete the picture
, and his adorable grin when he had said, “I like you, Heaven.”

Purrrrrr.

My heart melted into a puddle.

Still, at the last moment, I reconsidered and gave each of the guys one less cookie, so I could fill up a third baggie—for Destiny. I mean, she was jealous of me.

Then: in between fifth and sixth period, I was almost to Griffin’s locker, cookie in hand, when I saw him standing a tiny ways off with Hailey. He was watching me with an intrigued grin playing on his lips.

Busted!

Grr!

I turned around and was going to walk the other direction, like he misunderstood. Like, silly him, thinking I was going to his locker with a pumpkin cookie when really I was just walking aimlessly through the school halls.

But then I heard Griffin’s rough voice call out, “Heaven!”

I stopped, frozen. But I didn’t turn around. I just stood there, not moving, holding my breath. Griffin sauntered over to me, his smile not full of intrigue anymore—it was totally amused now, highly entertained. He leaned against the nearest row of lockers, his eyes dancing. “Is the cookie for me?”

“Cookie?”

I said it like what
are
you talking about? Which was, you know, stupid, since I was holding a cookie. But I smiled when I said it, ‘cause he was smiling so big and I couldn’t help it—I smiled back.

I let out a breath of resignation. “Yes, the cookie’s for you.”

I handed it to him feeling sort of brave. I mean
,
he already knew I was a weird stalker fan-girl. Why try to hide it? “Is it totally dumb that I give you cookies?” Then, before he could answer, I added, “I just—have a weird crush on you.”

His smile grew. “So, the cookies
do
mean you like me.”

I nodded, unable to say anything.

He stroked his chin, still smiling. “You know, there’s other ways to show me you like me.”

I stepped away from him, unnerved and unhinged and every other “un” word I could think of.

He laughed a little. “I mean, don’t run away from me.” His lips twitched. “That would be a start.”

He watched my eyes, his glistening as he studied my reaction, then he leaned in close to me again. “A bunch of us are going to hang out at Jake’s tonight,” he said. “His parents are gone. We’re going to have a party.” Griffin raised his eyebrows. “You want to come?”

My heart sank.

I shook my head. Talking with him was always such a roller coaster ride, bringing me up so high I was practically flying, then crashing me back down to reality. We couldn’t date. We couldn’t even “hang out.” We were too different. He was a party guy, a “bad boy.”

I didn’t want a bad boy—at least I didn’t
want
to want one.

I wanted a boy that would take me on dates and to dances, not parties where he’d get loaded and we’d make out in a van. (I heard people do that at Jake’s parties. The girls in my pre-calc class were always talking about them.) It didn’t sound like fun to me. That kind of stuff wasn’t what I wanted. It was exactly what I
didn’t
want.

“I’m going to get back together with Aiden,” I told Griffin.

Then I ran from him, into the mob of students rushing to get to their classes. For some stupid reason, I was almost crying.

***

During sixth I got a text message from this horrible, bossy cheerleader named Bianca that I pretty much hated. Unfortunately, she was kind of my “boss” at the moment as she was head of the dance committee. She texted,
“We’re decorating the gym for the dance Friday right after school. Expect to stay until six or later. Tons of work to do!”

Ugh!

I groaned, dreading the thought of working with her. But then I smiled, thinking about the dance itself—
that
I might be going with Aiden. The thought cheered me up since lately I’d been worried I might not be going to the dance at all.

I tried to concentrate on that—the dance—to get my mind off Griffin. But it didn’t work. I couldn’t get Griffin out of my head, the way he had looked into my eyes as he said, “There’s other ways to show me you like me.”

Ugh! Why did The Griff
—
a guy totally, totally wrong for me—have to be so hot? And tempting? It wasn’t fair—crushing on a bad boy.
Stupid!

There were other ways he could show he liked me too—I mean, besides flirting with me whenever I happened to come within his radar. That was the only time he even gave me a second thought—when I was right in front of his face.

Agitated, I read Aiden’s text from this morning again—again and again—trying to get Griffin’s eyes and lips and hotness out of my head.

Aiden is right for me,
I told myself
. He’s what I need right now—he soothes my heart. We should definitely get back together.

***

My heart was all agitated as I waited outside the gym for Aiden after school. I was sweaty and shivery, like maybe I was getting sick. But I knew it wasn’t really that. It was just nerves.

I paced back and forth, back and forth, wondering how this was going to go. Would we really get back together? Could things really go back to the way they were? I wanted that. I hated the way I’d been lately—on a Griffin-induced roller coaster. I wanted off. Now. I hated feeling all topsy-turvy all the time and full of strange wantings and yearnings: longing for a boy I could never have. It was depressing and pathetic.

I wanted to go back to feeling peaceful and content with my life—like I used to feel with Aiden. Only, I didn’t feel peaceful or content now, waiting for him. I felt cagey and restless and … sweaty. It was weird being so worked up about seeing Aiden—Aiden who I had dated for over two years.

But I
was
worked up. So worked up that when the gym door flew open, I sprang to alert. But it wasn’t Aiden that came through the door. It was … Griffin. When he saw me, he did a double take.

“Heaven,” he said with a surprised smirk, like I’d been standing here waiting for
him
—doing more stalking—but then he turned sort of serious. “Hey, I have something for you.”

Oh?

I stood frozen and breathless as he unzipped his backpack. Griffin had something for
me
? The thought had my heart racing because usually it was the other way around—no, scratch that—it was
always
the other way around. I
always
had stuff for him—always, always, always.
Cookies, enchiladas, poems, gummy bears.
But he had never, ever, ever given me anything, ever. Or gone out of his way to let me know he even thought of me—other than, yeah, when I was right in front of his face.

What could he possibly have for me? Just that he had
something
for me filled my entire being with excitement. But I tried to calm myself down and be
reasonable,
telling myself it would probably be something silly. Something in keeping with “Macho Guy-ness.” Or “hockey humor.”
Something rough and tough and totally not romantic.

Still … I was excited. Too excited. As I waited, curious and flushing, I steeled myself to be let down.
Because this was Griffin.
The Grief-Master.
The school Bad Boy.
He’d never even had a girlfriend, ever—because he just liked to “hang out.” Not date or be romantic … or do anything sweet. He was the total opposite of Aiden. I needed to remember that—I wanted a sweet, sensitive guy I could write songs with. I wanted
Aiden
, not Griffin.

As I tried to remember all this, I watched Griffin rummage through his backpack, watched his dark hair fall over his gorgeous brown eyes as he explained, “I was going to give this to you at a better time. I mean, that’s what I’d thought when I got it—that I’d give it to you for some sort of ‘occasion.’ But I guess not.”

Finally, Griffin pulled out what he’d been looking for from his backpack. I blinked, tilting my head. It was a book.

A gorgeous, fancy, elegant book.

He held it out to me. Only, I didn’t take it. I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. Griffin bought me … that?

When I just stood there staring at it, my heart ready to explode, Griffin grinned. “Here,” he said. “It’s for you.”

My brain was in a confused daze, but I guess I took the book. I must have. It was in my hands. I sucked in my breath. “Wow,” I murmured.

 
My heart leapt up to my throat as I leafed through the elegant pages. Each page was empty—blank.

“It’s a journal,” Griffin said. “I saw it and it made me think of you.”

I swallowed, tears welling in my eyes. This beautiful journal made him think of … me?

It was so sweet and touching. I was seriously going to start bawling any second. He
did
know me. Griffin knew me!

But … how?

“Back—freshman year,” Griffin said as though I’d asked the question aloud, “you had geometry with Mr. Mohammed the hour before me. You sat in the same seat as me.” He paused a moment and I could feel his eyes on mine, but I couldn’t look up at him. Instead, I stared at the beautiful journal, trying to hold back my tears.

Finally, Griffin went on. “One day you left a ratty notebook on the desk. It was full of … stuff. Music and poems and … thoughts.”

“It was a journal,” he said.

My heart stopped. Heat rushed through my body. “It was you,” I whispered in awe. “You mailed my notebook back to me.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “I didn’t know what else to do with it. It didn’t seem like I should leave it there—I mean, it had personal stuff in it.”

Yeah, no kidding,
I thought, cringing. But I didn’t say it aloud. I couldn’t say anything because I was going to cry.

Griffin gave a soft laugh, the sound musical to my ears. “I couldn’t give it to you,” he said. “I tried a couple of times, but every time you saw me coming towards you, you’d run the other way.”