17 First Kisses (30 page)

“Did I tell you how pretty you look?” I hear him say as he holds open the lobby door for her.

“He did not just try to pick up both of us while he was waiting to go skinny-dipping with some chick,” I say when the door closes behind them.

“Yeah,” says Megan. “He did.”

“Jerk.”

“Loser.”

“Ass clown.”

We go on like this for a minute, calling him every name we can think of, when I have an idea.

“Let's follow them.”

“What?!”

“Let's follow them and steal his clothes.”

Megan's face lights up. “YES.”

We hurry across the lobby and out the door, knowing they've got a head start. We peer around the pool area. Nope. The pool is crowded with people, including Glenn and a few other kids from school. They must be in the ocean. Pulling off our heels, we open the gate and run on tiptoes across the sand and take cover behind a lifeguard stand with our hands held in front of us to form fake guns. We peek around the wooden base of the stand, the sand digging into our knees.

There they are. Twenty yards away on the beach, stripping off their clothes. The girl falls over when she tries to pull off her skirt. Megan snorts and we both start giggling. Luke and his new friend leave their clothes a few feet from the surf and totter into the ocean bare-ass naked.

“How are we going to pull this off?” I whisper. “If we run at the clothes, they'll see us.”

“I've got an idea. Just follow my lead.”

Megan stands up, brushes the sand from her legs, puts her heels back on, fluffs her hair, and saunters over to where Luke and the girl are skinny-dipping. I follow a step behind her, and we stop just in front of the pile of clothes.

“What are
they
doing here?” The girl sinks lower in the water and looks up at Luke.

“I don't know,” he tells her. “What's up?”

“Claire and I felt like swimming after all.” Megan smiles her
sexy vixen smile at him. I try to mimic her, even though I still don't get what we're doing.

“You did?” He coughs. “I mean, sure, come on in.”

Megan catches my eye as she leans over to take off her shoes, stepping right up to Luke's shorts as she does so. It finally clicks. She's getting us closer and buying us time. I shuffle over to where his T-shirt sits discarded on the sand.

“Now,” she hisses.

She snatches up the shorts, and I reach in every direction for everything else, a handful of boxers here, a T-shirt there. I try to grab the last thing, one of Luke's flip-flops, but it's too close to the surf and the ocean sucks it away from me.

“What the . . . ?” It finally dawns on Luke that he isn't about to be wet and naked with three chicks.

“Run!” yells Megan.

We bolt toward the pool area like the sand is on fire.

“I left a flip-flop!” I shout.

“It's okay. Keep going. He's after us!”

I glance over my shoulder to see Luke scrambling after us (still bare-ass naked), and in case you're wondering, a naked guy running is not an attractive sight. I think I see a flash of light, but I can't stop to see what it is. We make it to the gate, me first, Megan close behind, and he stops short. People will see him if he gets any closer.

“Give me back my clothes!”

“Nope. You deserve what you get,” she says.

“Pleeease. I'm really sorry. Can you at least give me my
underwear?”

I glare at him even though he probably can't see me in the starlight. “I wouldn't give you a Band-Aid.”

“You stupid bitches. This is bullshit! Give me my clothes or I'll . . .”

“Or you'll what?” says Megan.

He doesn't reply. “That's what I thought.”

We prance inside and slam the gate behind us. Once we're safely within the confines of the pool area, I collapse on the cement, laughing.

“That. Was. The coolest thing we've ever done,” I manage to get out between bursts of laughter.

“It gets better,” says Megan. “I snapped a picture with my phone.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

T
he next day Megan and I retell the story to the other girls in our room. Repeatedly. In detail. We do impressions of Luke and the girl. We show them the blurry picture of Luke naked and running. While we're laying out, we spot Luke a good ways down the beach from us. He has on swim trunks, so he must have managed to get inside eventually.

After sunset, most people trickle down to the pool to hang out because there's no teen night tonight. The other girls went to Buck's room with Britney, but Megan and I put on swimsuits and cover-ups and head downstairs.

“So, how did it go with B?” I ask. I saw them disappear for over an hour at the beach today.

Megan shrugs. “She gets that what she did was really screwed
up, but she said she knew how much I really liked Luke and she was just trying to protect me. I know what you think of her, but I don't think I can handle cutting another friend out of my life right now.”

I nod. I kind of knew that was what was going to happen. As we walk down the rough plank boardwalk, the kind that will give you splinters the size of coffee stirrers, drunken voices carry over the gate.

“. . . got to second base in the bathroom of La Vela,” says Jimmy Marcus to a chorus of whoops.

“I can beat that,” says another voice. Luke's. Megan and I exchange frowns and let ourselves into the pool area, but he's surrounded by a crowd of people, mostly guys, so he doesn't see us. “Last night, I went skinny-dipping with this chick from Mississippi, and she is into some
freaky
stuff.”

Jimmy slaps him a high five. “Aw, yeah.”

“I thought I saw Megan and Claire go down to the beach right after you,” says Glenn. “You must have seen them, right?”

“Oh, uh.” Luke looks petrified, but just for a second. “I mean, yeah, they followed me down there. I don't know if they wanted to watch or what. Hey, it's been a long time since they've seen me naked, so I'm not . . .” He finally spots us. “Judging,” he finishes quietly.

Most of the guys are laughing and nodding their heads, but Sam looks like he wants to murder Luke. His knuckles are white where he's gripping the stone table in front of him. Everyone watches Megan and me, waiting to see if we'll confirm or deny.

I put my hands on my hips. “You are so full of it.”

“We pretended we were going to skinny-dip with you so we could steal your clothes,” says Megan. “He chased us all the way back to the pool gate naked.”

Some of the guys snicker.

“Oh, okay,” Luke says. “You just came down there to ‘steal my clothes.'” He makes air quotes with his fingers.

I glare at Luke. “We can prove it. Megan has a picture of you.” I grab her phone and start scrolling for the photo.

“That only proves you wanted to see me naked. If a girl wants to take naked pictures of me, I'm not going to stop her.”

Glenn clears his throat and takes a long pull from his beer. “Well, I saw you sneak in through the pool gate last night with a flip-flop over your pecker, so I'm more inclined to believe them than you.”

Everyone laughs. Guys who doubted our story when it was Luke's word against ours believe us now that Glenn is on our side.

“Here,” I say, waving the phone triumphantly.

“Fine,” Luke says, standing up to get the attention back on him. “So you've got a naked picture of me. It's probably safer that way.” He leans so close to me that we're almost touching, and I can smell the Jack Daniel's on his breath. “You wouldn't know what to do with the real thing, would you, virgin?”

The next few seconds are a blur. Sam stands so fast his chair flips over behind him, and before I know it, he lands a sucker punch across Luke's jawbone. Luke crumples to the ground. He rolls around, holding his face. One of the guys from the soccer
team crooks an elbow under each of his armpits to help him up. Blood dribbles from the corners of his mouth and down his chin.

“I bih mah thung,” he says as the guy walks him inside.

Sam shakes his punching hand. “Wow. I didn't realize that would hurt so much.”

He sucks on one of his fingers. I rummage through a nearby cooler and scoop a handful of ice into my towel.

“Here.” I lead Sam to a table in the corner, away from the crowd.

The pool light overhead fizzles in and out, dying a slow death while moths flutter around the carnage. I gently pull Sam's hand onto the stone table between us. His knuckles are swelling like sausages, but his fingers look normal and straight.

“Are you okay?”

He nods, but he can't help but wince when he flexes his fingers. “I don't think anything is jammed or broken. It just hurts.”

“This'll help.” I hold his hurt fingers with one hand and press the makeshift ice pack lightly against them with the other. He blows a slow breath out through his mouth.

“Thanks for sticking up for me,” I say.

“How could I not? The guy's a douche.” Sam's eyes get angry for a second, but then they soften. “You deserve better, CJ.”

“Well, it means a lot to me. You're probably the only person I can always count on.” I say all of this to Sam's hand. I didn't realize what a personal thing I was saying until it was already out there. It's true, though. Everyone else in my life has let me down at some point. Sam is the only constant. I've never thought about
it quite like this. I always assumed I knew everything there was to know about Sam. But since this whole “digging deeper” experiment is working so well with everyone else, I decide to try it out with him too.

I glance up from my hands, still holding Sam's swollen fingers, feeling the calluses on his palms and his strong, bony knuckles. And I look at him. Really look. Something sparks when my eyes meet his. A feeling so big it makes me suck in my breath. I've felt that whacked-over-the-heart feeling with guys before, but never with Sam, and never this strong. I don't know what to do. This is Sam.

Sam.

My friend.

My buddy.

Not a guy I have feelings for. Except now maybe I do. My hand tingles where it touches his, and when Sam watches me pull it away, I can't shake this feeling I get from the way he's looking at me.

He knows.

I go back to the room with Megan and try to forget the way I felt when Sam and I looked at each other. He's just my friend. He's
just
my friend. And besides, even if I did like Sam (which I don't!), I'm done messing with other people's boyfriends.

Two hours later, Amanda comes flying through the door with mascara running down her cheeks.

“What's wrong, girl?” asks Britney.

“Sam broke up with me.” She flops on the bed and sobs into
the tacky plaid comforter.

“Oh, no, honey.” Amberly squeezes on the corner of the bed next to her and gives her a hug. “Why?”

“He says it's because we're going to school in different states, and he thinks we'd be better as friends. But the real reason he broke up with me is the same reason he punched Luke.” She glares at me through her tears. “He's in love with
her
.”

Kiss #16 xoxo

Even though I felt that spark with Sam, and even though we're both single, I don't do anything about it. I've had enough romantic drama this year, and the last thing I need is to ruin my oldest friendship on top of it. So we have a normal summer of hanging out, watching movies, and playing soccer—except now I sometimes get a fluttery feeling when he touches me.

The night before Sam leaves for the University of North Carolina, and a week before I leave for Georgia Tech, there's a knock at my bedroom door.

“Come in,” I call. “Oh, hey, Sam.”

“Hey, I let myself in. Where is everybody?”

“Tonight is third-grade orientation for Libby. But I really needed to start packing.”

I gesture around the room at the half empty crates and boxes. There's still so much I have to do this week. My desk chair is piled with junk, so Sam sits on my bed.

“I leave for UNC tomorrow,” he says.

“I know.” I continue packing books into a cardboard box. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah. I think I'll like my marketing classes. And it'll be nice to start over in a place where nobody knows me as the fat kid.”

“Aw, Sam. Things really changed this year, though. You dated Amanda Bell.”

“I know. But I think there are some people who will never see the new me.” He looks so sad when he says it.

“Yeah. I'm ready to leave it all behind too.”

I think about this year, and my reputation, and how I've been trying to think differently about people. I ponder this while I sort through my closet for summer clothes (pack) and winter clothes (leave). Sam's hand closes over my shoulder, and I try not to jump. I didn't realize he had gotten off the bed.

“Can I talk to you about something? It's important.”

I stop pushing around hangers and turn to face him.

“Sure.”

“I don't know if I should even be saying this, but there have been times this summer when you looked at me, and it made me think . . .”

He waits like he's hoping I'll interrupt him and rescue him from whatever he's about to say.

“Anyway, I'll regret it forever if I don't.” His eyes are so scared, so vulnerable. They search mine like they're looking for an answer, but I don't know the question.

“I never stopped liking you,” he finally blurts out.

Chill bumps pop up on every inch of my skin.

“You didn't?”

“Are you really that surprised?”

I kind of am. “I know you liked me when we were little, but you never act like that anymore.”