Who I Kissed (17 page)

My hair is wet and sticks to my head under my cap, forming icicles in the chilly night air. I’m running up the street on the sidewalk opposite our house. My mind is full. Chloe. Casper. Zee. I need to process it all.

At our house the porch light is on, and I see Aunt Allie at the front door. Her laughter carries across the street, and a couple of extremely tall trick-or-treaters stand in front with her. Teenagers in costume. I left the pool at almost nine, so they’re definitely pushing their luck collecting leftovers this late. Every older kid knows the trick. People dump whatever’s left in the bowl to get the last of the candy out of the house. They’re lucky Aunt Allie is answering the door, not Dad.

As if she senses me, Aunt Allie looks across the street and waves. “Hi, Sam!”

Fredrick barks his raspy little woof. I see his little body as he takes off out the front door. The black wings on his bat costume flop from side to side. I can almost see a tiny grin on his face and hear his snort as he charges toward me, faster than his little pencil legs look capable of carrying him.

Behind me, a car engine roars.

“Fredrick!” Aunt Allie screams. “Come here. Come.”

“No,” I echo from the opposite end of the street. Everything slows. I turn to see a silver hatchback driving forward. Fredrick charges onward, unaware. His nails click-click on the pavement.

“Noooooooooo,” I cry again.

“Freeeeeeeeedrrrrriiickkkk!” Aunt Allie’s voice floats above the other sounds.

The driver spots the little black blur running straight for the car wheels and slams the breaks. The sound of squealing tires joins in with the voices. In stereo. A capella.

“Fredrick!”
Scrrreeeeeeeeech
. “Nooooooooooooo!”

And then there’s a tiny thwap. And silence. Fredrick’s little body hits the car, and he flops down on his side on the road. Not moving.

I run at the car, which is now spun sideways on the street, stopped. Aunt Allie races up the driveway. Teens dressed as zombies follow her but run more slowly, fueled by curiosity, not panic. I reach him first, as the front door of the car is opening.

“Fredrick?” Tears and panic mix and contort my face.

“No! No! No!” Aunt Allie is running toward us. The teenagers gawk.

I kneel down. Fredrick’s eyes are closed. He’s not budging.

“Oh, Fredrick,” I moan.

I blink, trying to process it. A feeling of déjà vu creeps into my head.

“Oh my God!” A female voice shouts. “Samantha? I didn’t see him. Is he okay?”

The voice registers in my brain, but Aunt Allie’s voice fills my ears. “Oh, Sam,” she cries. “How is he?” I reach down. Put my hand on his bulging stomach.

Cold sweat forms on my head, making icicles to match the ones in my hair.

“Fredrick?” I put my other hand on him. “Fredrick?”

The girl bends down beside me. She’s crying. “Oh my God. Is he your dog? I didn’t see him. I swear. Is he—”

“No,” Aunt Allie cries. Her hand covers her mouth. “No,” she repeats. “He can’t be dead. He can’t be.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see him,” she says over and over. Her eyes are teary and wide.

“Quiet!” I yell at her. “Chloe. Please.”

She immediately clamps her hand over her mouth. Aunt Allie kneels beside me. The teens creep forward, but they don’t come closer and don’t say a word.

Tears stream down my cheeks. Not Fredrick. Aunt Allie’s baby. He’s so little. So good. He’s never hurt a fly, never done anything except bring joy and happiness to everyone around him. He doesn’t deserve this. It can’t be happening.

His chest moves under my hand. “He moved!” I shout.

Aunt Allie and I stare at each other and then back at him.

“He’s breathing,” I confirm, my hand still on his belly. “He’s breathing.”

Her hands fly to her mouth. She stares at him with wide eyes.

I slip both hands under his tiny body, and he lets out a whimper. I’m so relieved to hear it that I giggle.

Chloe stares down at me, her eyes widening. “He’s alive,” I assure her.

“Thank God,” she says.

My brain kind of registers how strange and horrible this is, but I can’t think about that yet. Other thoughts have prominence. Keep Fredrick still. Don’t move him around needlessly. I need to let Aunt Allie hold him, though. His mommy.

“Put out your arms,” I tell Aunt Allie. “Keep him still.” I gently lay Fredrick over her outstretched arms, pull off my hoodie, and tuck it around his little body. His eyes open for a second and he looks at Aunt Allie and then at me. There’s pain in his eyes but also trust that we’re going to look after him. He whimpers again.

Chloe wrings her hands. “What can I do to help?”

“I’m sorry,” Aunt Allie says. “But I can’t deal with you right now.”

Chloe looks broken. My heart goes out to her. She didn’t mean to hit Fredrick. It was bad timing. A horrible accident.

Aunt Allie whispers soothing words to Fredrick.

“There’s a twenty-four-hour vet clinic downtown,” Chloe says.

“We have to take him,” Aunt Allie says. “Now.”

“I’ll drive,” Chloe shouts. “I’ll take you.”

Part of me wants to send her away. She hit Fredrick. She should bask in guilt. Not be a part of the rescue. Her expression is part terror and pure remorse. It’s all too familiar.

“Come on,” she begs.

“Let’s go,” Aunt Allie cries, and it’s decided. I open the back door and help her inside without disturbing Fredrick, and then I jump in the passenger seat. Chloe floors it, speeding all the way to the pet hospital. No one talks except Aunt Allie, who whispers comfort and encouragement to Fredrick in the back.

When we pull up to the front door of the vet clinic, Chloe turns to the backseat and then glances sideways at me. “I’m Chloe,” she says to Aunt Allie.

“I know who you are,” Aunt Allie says.

I help her get Fredrick inside, and Chloe parks the car. When she rushes into the check-in area, Aunt Allie is already in a private room waiting for a doctor. I’m giving the receptionist our address details. Chloe walks up beside me and offers to pay the medical fees, which I imagine will be pretty enormous despite Fredrick being such a tiny dog.

I shake my head no. Aunt Allie can more than take care of it.

“It was an accident,” I tell her.

We stare at each other. She said the same words to me earlier in the night.

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

We go to the waiting room and sit side by side. Neither of us talks. Time whirs by, and then Aunt Allie comes out and tells us Fredrick is being rushed into surgery.

Aunt Allie takes her hand, and Chloe starts to cry. I watch the two of them. Fascinated. Sad. Envious. Guilt is written all over Chloe’s face. Her remorse is clear. But Aunt Allie isn’t blaming her. She’s being kind. She knows it was an accident. Chloe didn’t mean to hurt Fredrick. She is already forgiven.

I wonder if I ever will be.

I make it through another week like I’m hanging from my life on a fishing line. Waiting for something to snatch me up, and bored with waiting. I try to function with the lowest level of involvement. I have a session with Bob, but even he seems frustrated with me. He tells me I’m not trying hard enough, but I don’t react. On some level, I know he’s right. I just don’t care.

Only Casper and Taylor talk to me at school. Taylor is busy with swimming and Justin, but she texts me several times a day. Casper’s interaction has kind of dribbled down to quoting Dr. Seuss to me in English class. Chloe and I smile and acknowledge each other in the halls, connected but staying apart, like opposing magnets. I rarely catch a glimpse of Zee, which means he’s successfully avoiding me.

Aunt Allie watches me with knowing eyes. After school one day, she catches up to me in the kitchen while I’m making a grilled cheese.

“How are things?” she asks.

“Great,” I tell her. I take the sandwich off the grill and put it on a plate. I cut it in half and hold out the plate.

“Liar.” She smiles and reaches for it. “You know, when I was downsized from my job, I thought it was the worst thing that could happen to me. I didn’t have a family of my own. Your dad didn’t want me in your life. My parents and I were estranged. My job was the only thing I had. It felt personal. Really personal. I was lower than I’d ever been in my life.”

She takes a bite of the sandwich and pauses to chew.

“But in the end, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Not that this will ever be the best thing that happened to you. But my point is you can get through and make your life better because of it.” She takes another bite.

“So what can you do to make things better, Sam?”

Tentatively, I tell her about my plans, and she smiles as she listens. When I’m finished, she kisses my cheek. “You might not know it yet, but God works in mysterious ways.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in God,” I say, as I put another sandwich on the grill.

“Of course I do. Who do you think angels are working for, butterfly? It’s not the bad guys. Write the letter,” she tells me. “I think you’re ready.”

I want to, but I’m not quite there.

***

The night of the festival, Aunt Allie and Dad are acting weird and dying to chat about my date, so I go to my room to hide from them and wait for Casper to come pick me up. They’re trying not to make big a deal out of it, but they seem to think it’s my grand re-entry into society or something. Like I should wear a ball gown and glass slippers to sidestep horse and cow patties on the fairground.

I log onto my computer, click on Facebook, and go to my wall.

Reason # 1,200,334 never to kiss Samantha Waxman. Peanut Butter Breath.

Beside the comment is a picture of Kaitlin. In a bikini. Her profile picture. Her comment already has 52 likes.

“I hear she spreads it like PB and J,” a girl commented below it. I don’t recognize her name or picture. There are more comments underneath. I see the words slut and whore.

I click the computer off without logging out. Something Dad always warns me not to do.

The bandages of self-preservation I’ve wrapped around my heart tear a little. I close my eyes, trying to close the hole the post ripped into me. As if I’m right back where I started. I lie on my bed and stare up at the ceiling, but tears threaten to spill, and I actually took the time to put on makeup. Determined not to let the nasty comments undo me, I hurry to the living room and sit stiffly on the couch beside Aunt Allie.

Aunt Allie clucks her tongue. “Don’t be nervous,” she says. “We promise not to embarrass you.” Fredrick glances up at me from her lap but closes his eyes again as if my mood bores him. He’s recovered nicely from his accident, didn’t even have to stay at the vet hospital overnight. If anything, he’s milking the little cast he’s wearing on his leg. He hardly has to walk anywhere anymore. Aunt Allie and even Dad carry him everywhere. His expression when he’s being carried is one of bliss.

“You look nice. I love that sweater on you.” She sighs. “I barely remember being able to look cute wearing jeans.”

“You’re built like Mom’s side of the family,” Dad says. The two of them are sitting quietly drinking wine.

“So you’re saying my butt has its own time zone?”

“I think you look great,” I tell Aunt Allie softly. I mean it. She’s sturdy and as colorful as a fall day, perfect the way she is. I couldn’t imagine her being thin and wearing trendy jeans, trying to look younger.

She smiles and lifts her wine glass in a toast. “Thank you. And I think you’re gorgeous. Are you actually wearing makeup?”

“You look beautiful,” Dad says, saving me from answering. “You look like your mom.”

My hand goes to the necklace tucked inside my sweater. Thankfully, the doorbell rings, and I jump up, glad he arrived before the conversation got any more embarrassing.

Dad is already standing and waves his hand at me to sit. “I got it,” he tells me.

I plop down and try to keep the swirling in my belly under the surface.

“He’s more nervous than you are,” Aunt Allie whispers.

Fredrick’s head perks up, and his ears point straight up. Tiny burp-growls erupt from his throat. He doesn’t move from Aunt Allie’s lap, though. Aunt Allie speaks for him in her fake Spanish accent.

“Aye, Chihuahua. I cannot get up. Bring me the visitor.”

She smiles at me, but I don’t smile back, and she frowns. “You okay?”

I don’t answer her.

“Sam?” Aunt Allie says in a quiet voice. “You’ll make sure this boy treats you right?”

“It’s just a festival,” I mumble. “He’s just a boy.” I want to tell her about the comments on the computer, but there’s no time to get into it now.

“Hmm,” she says under her breath.

I want to tell her people think I’m a whore.

“Come in,” Dad’s voice booms out from the front door. From the living room, I see Casper step into the house. He looks like an ad for Guess, in jeans and a corduroy jacket with a scarf draped around his neck. I stand but don’t go to him yet.

“So. You’re here to take out my daughter?” Dad says in an overly loud and unnatural voice.

It feels like I’m watching a TV show about a girl going on a date.

“I am, sir. I’m a lucky guy,” Casper tells him.

“I’m a great believer in luck. I find the harder I work, the more I have,” Dad says.

“Thomas Jefferson,” Casper says without missing a beat.

“Nice,” Dad says. “Sam said you were smart.”

“But not as smart as your daughter.”

I walk out of the living room toward the front hallway. Casper winks at me.

“Liar,” Dad and I say at the same time.

Casper laughs. “I’m always sincere, even if I don’t mean it.”

I imagine a studio audience with canned laughter and clapping.

Dad chuckles. Casper does handle parents like a pro.

“Taurus,” Aunt Allie calls.

Casper stands on his toes to see inside the living room. He waves at me when I get closer and nods at Aunt Allie. Polite but puzzled. “Pardon me?”

“When’s your birthday?” she calls.

“Hi, Casper,” I say. “That’s my Aunt Allie.”

“Nice to meet you,” he calls.

“I’m just asking,” she says to me. Fredrick burp-growls but doesn’t move. “I’d get up, but Fredrick has a broken leg and I don’t want to jostle him.”

“May sixth,” Casper says. “My birthday. Cute dog. I heard about the accident. Glad he’s okay.”

I glance back at Aunt Allie. “Thank you.” She nods thoughtfully. “Same birthday as George Clooney. I was right. Taurus.” She runs her hand along Fredrick’s back. He lets out a sharp bark.

“You want to come in?” Dad asks.

“No,” I say and give my dad a look as I open the front closet to get a cardigan.

Casper smiles and helps me put the sweater on while asking Dad if he follows Washington State football. They chat a little about his injury and college football while I shift from foot to foot.

“Okay. Interrogation over,” I tell Casper. “We can go.”

“It’s okay, Sam,” he says.

“Not by me.” I make another face at my dad and he grins. Casper passed the test.

“Fine. You kids have fun at the festival.”

“You’re not going?” Casper asks him.

“My sister can’t leave her dog for longer than five minutes. I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“What that really means is that unlike Sam, he couldn’t get a date,” Aunt Allie says.

I shake my head.

“I could get a date. I just didn’t want one,” Dad calls back. He winks at Casper, and I cringe on Dad’s behalf.

“We’re watching a movie instead,” he over-shares.

“Romantic comedy,” Aunt Allie calls.

“More information than the boy needed,” Dad tells her and smiles at Casper. “I was hoping for something with a little more action.”

“You were not,” Aunt Allie calls. “He’s mushier than I am.”

Dad’s face reddens.

“I’m partial to romantic comedies myself, sir,” Casper assures him.

I blink at him. Sir? Partial to romantic comedies?

“Let’s just not repeat this conversation to any other guys,” Dad says.

I silently agree, as Casper laughs and I roll my eyes and gesture toward the door. Let’s not repeat it, period.

“Come on, Casper. Seriously, we should go.”

Casper sticks out his hand and Dad shakes it vigorously. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Waxman. Nice meeting you too,” he calls to Aunt Allie. “Hope your dog feels better.”

Fredrick growls.

I slip on my boots while Casper winds down the small talk with Dad.

“Not too late, okay, Sam?” Dad says. He leans over and kisses my cheek, not a normal thing for him to do. It leaves a hot mark but surprisingly doesn’t embarrass me. I touch my fingers to the spot and tell him and Aunt Allie good night.

“Wow. I’m sorry about that,” I say as soon as we’re outside.

“No big deal. I specialize in parents. And your aunt is funny.” Casper opens his car door for me and tucks me inside. As soon as he’s in the driver’s seat he leans over and gives me a long, hot kiss on the lips.

I glance sideways at him when he pulls away. Where’s all this passion coming from? We’ve hardly spoken at school all week, unless it was for class. I wonder if he saw my Facebook wall. I wonder if he ever thinks about me as a person. If I even deserve that.

“My aunt’s an individual, that’s for sure.” I scoot a little closer to the door and sit straight. She’d kick his butt if she saw the way he just kissed me. I watch out the window as Casper drives and chatters incessantly without needing much input from me. I’m glad he doesn’t bring up Chloe or the accident with Fredrick. I’m not in the mood to talk about that. I’m not in the mood to talk about much.

I notice the houses getting bigger and see that we’ve turned onto his street. He pulls into his driveway and leans over and kisses me again. It makes me feel strange, this intimacy. “Want to go inside?” He puts the car in park.

“Uh.” I want to say no. I want to tell him I’m not that kind of girl. “What about the festival?”

What about the eyeliner I had to trace on and wipe off four times to get right? And the Plum Perfect lipstick, and the new jeans I bought for the occasion with the little spending money I actually have? I ignore the little voice in my head telling me I want to impress a different guy. Who is probably at the festival already.

I wasn’t expecting this. It’s such a one-eighty from the old me. I fight a desire to laugh because if I start, it’ll turn to tears that might never stop.

“We have plenty of time. My parents sponsor the rodeo, so they had to show up early. Theresa went with them. I told them I’d be by later.” He turns the ignition off and leans back, with a smug smile on his face.

“Won’t they be suspicious about what we’re doing? Don’t they know you already picked me up?”

He shakes his head and looks toward his house. It’s lit up with flood lights.

I almost let it go. But I need to know. “Did you tell them you were taking me to the festival?”

“I told them a bunch of us were going together.” He leans over and puts his hand on my knee. “Which is true. Only you’re the most special one.”

I lean my head back against the seat. “You didn’t want them to know it was with me.” I don’t ask it as a question. I should have known his parents wouldn’t want to hear that he’s with me. We’ve never met, but of course they know who I am. Being associated with me might ruin his chance to get into his first-choice university or something.

“God, Sam. No. I’ll introduce you to them when we get there. It’s not that. I just wanted to have some time alone with you before I have to share you.” He pats my leg. Rubs his hand over my jeans. “You want that too, don’t you?”

I don’t answer. He lied by omission to his parents and pre-planned private time at his house. Is that something you do with a girl you’re taking on a date? He traces his fingers over my leg, spelling out my name. “You know I’ve been dying to spend time with you. Don’t you?”

I glance at his huge house. “I don’t know. I told Taylor we’d be there soon.”

“Taylor will be fine for an hour or so. She’s with Justin.” He opens his door, climbs out, hurries to my side, and opens the door. He holds out his hand. I take a deep breath. “Come on,” he whispers. “You know you want this.”

I do?

I feel nauseous. Helpless. Like I don’t have the right to say no.

Zee is taking Chloe to the festival, I remind myself. Not me.

I take his hand, and Casper pulls me up. I take a deep breath and convince myself it’s what I want too. I follow him into the house.

He tickles me and pulls me down the hallway. As if I’ve left my body, I watch him. I pretend to laugh. He doesn’t notice that I’m faking it. Or he doesn’t care.

I follow him up the spiral staircase, hanging back, but he tugs me along and tells me not to be shy. This isn’t shy. This is dread. I imagine Alex again, and when Casper turns me around and kisses me, I’m so relieved that he doesn’t fall down and struggle for breath that I let him lead me to his room. He takes me to his bed.

I wait to lose myself in him. I want to forget everything else. Before, when Casper kissed me, I got lost in it. I didn’t have to think about anything. But I wait. And wait. And it doesn’t happen. The whole time he touches me, taking off my clothes, I wait. But instead, I feel removed. I think of Alex and close my eyes tight. I want to forget, but it doesn’t happen. And then it’s too late. I want to explain myself. But I can’t.