The Start of Me and You (23 page)

I’d seen my friends exchange looks once or twice when I mentioned Max—Morgan pressing her lips together to lock a gossipy comment inside of her mouth. But I never thought anything of it. Morgan could read relationship chemistry into me and a bag of potato chips.

Nearly everyone had arrived, now busying themselves with the superfluous amount of streamers and balloons. Ryan and I were in the kitchen, setting out the food and drinks.

“Hey,” a guy’s voice said. “Sorry I’m late. I parked all the way down the street.”

Connor was one of Ryan’s track friends whom I hadn’t officially met. I’d always thought of him as a frat-boy-in-training type, but up close, he looked nicer—dark eyes and an easy smile. In addition to Connor, Ryan had invited our usual group, plus Malcolm and Lauren.

“It’s cool,” Ryan said. “Max won’t be here for another few minutes. He thinks we’re going to a seven-twenty movie.”

“I brought bottled root beer,” Connor said, heaving
two six-packs onto the counter, “since you said no real beer.”

“That’s awesome,” Ryan said. “Max will think that’s funny.”

I nodded, smiling at Connor.

“You want one?” Ryan asked me, pulling a bottle out of the pack.

“Sure.”

“There you go, ma’am.” He twisted the cap off and slid it to me, winking like a flirty bartender in a sitcom. My mind went blurry with swooning. “Can you get everyone together? I’m going to start watching for him.”

“Max is always on time,” I told Connor before calling for everyone to assemble.

“Everyone, quiet!” Ryan yelled as he hurried back into the kitchen. “He just pulled up!”

All nine of us crouched behind the kitchen island. From outside, Max beeped his horn twice.

“He’ll come in,” Ryan assured us. “Give him a second.”

We waited a few beats, an excited silence buzzing through the room.

“Ry?” Max’s voice carried in from the front door. I ran my fingers against my palms, stomach tight. “You ready to go?”

I could hear Max’s footsteps, getting closer to the kitchen.

“Ry?” he yelled louder.

“Now!” Ryan stage whispered.

“SURPRISE!” It was loud, collective, and excited, as we all sprung up from behind the island.

Max jumped backward, wide-eyed, as he took in our sudden appearance and the ridiculous decorations strewn around. Tessa held up her phone, capturing Max’s genuine surprise. Everyone clapped and cheered as Max’s mouth slid into a slightly embarrassed grin. I exhaled in relief, half because we’d really surprised him and half because he was still just Max—no matter what insinuations my grandmother made.

“You
guys
,” he said, sheepish.

“Happy birthday, bud,” Ryan said, putting his arm around Max.

In the basement, streamers were taped at every angle around the walls and ceiling. Ryan set up video games on the big screen, and I settled into a corner of the L-shaped sofa to take in the festivities. Tessa cranked up the playlist she’d made for the party as Tyler and Connor broke off to play pool. I sat back and watched everyone settle into comfortable conversations. “Our friends” Ryan had said, and that’s exactly what this group of people had become.

The energy died down after a little while. I kept one eye on Kayleigh, who wasn’t quite herself. She was leaning against the pool table, locked into whatever Connor was saying. Her laugh rang out—forced and overdone—and it
triggered a gut feeling that something was wrong. Her body language bordered on flirty, like she’d get this attention from the other guys if she couldn’t get it from Eric. I flashed back to the night I’d snuck out to get her and the wistful way she’d said love wasn’t what she thought it would be.

“Is she okay?” I whispered to Morgan.

“Who knows?” Morgan gave me an eye roll that was so drawn out that I momentarily feared for her ocular health. “Why does he never come to stuff like this? It’s like he thinks he’s too good for us.”

We’d been around Eric only three times. He was cute—wide in a football-player way—but still distracted, constantly texting. I figured he was shy, overwhelmed by meeting lots of new people at once. That I could certainly understand.

“We should play a game or something,” Tyler said.

“Well, if it’s up to the birthday boy,” Ryan said, “we’d be playing a rousing game of Scrabble.”

“Shut up,” Max said, smiling good-naturedly. “You’re still mad about
aliquot
.”

“It’s
not
a word!” Ryan said.

“It is,” Tessa interjected. “It’s a math term.”

“Traitor,” Ryan said, but he grinned at her like a fool.

“I have a game,” Kayleigh announced, smirking as she downed the final sip of her root beer. She then held up the empty glass bottle and jiggled it back and forth.

Tyler, the first one of us to process what she meant, made a whooping noise as everyone else caught up.

“Kayleigh,” Morgan said sternly. “No.”

Tessa looked disgusted. “What are we, in fifth grade?”

Morgan’s head shot toward her. “You played spin the bottle in
fifth grade
?”

“No,” Tessa said. “Because
nobody
actually plays it.”

“False,” Kayleigh said. “I played at camp.”

“I want to go to that camp!” Tyler said.

Everyone laughed, easing the tension.

“In popular culture,” Lauren said, “spin the bottle is played after the participants have been imbibing alcohol. I don’t imbibe alcohol. So.”

Connor muffled a laugh with his hand, and I felt a surge of protectiveness toward Lauren. Yes, she sat with ramrod-straight posture and spoke like we were in a formal debate at all times, but there was more to her than that. Malcolm patted her leg. “No one’s drinking tonight, Laur.”

“I’m in,” Ryan said. Cold sweat broke out across my back. This couldn’t really happen. It was too awkward, too public. Tessa was right: no one really did this—and certainly not us.

Tessa sighed, shrugging. “All right. Why not?”

There was clapping and laughing as everyone agreed. My stomach already felt sort of jittery, but now it was grumbling inside of me. I looked over at Morgan, hoping
she would call the game to a stop. She didn’t, probably owing to the chance of kissing Tyler or even Malcolm, whom she’d been eyeing all night.

Kayleigh centered the empty bottle as everyone positioned themselves into a circle.

“Now,” she said. “We’re playing with one little modification.”

“The ‘camp way’?” Tess asked, making air quotes as she rolled her eyes.

Kayleigh ignored her.

“So, same rules as spin the bottle only every seventh spin, those two people have to go in there,” she said, pointing to what seemed to be a closet door, “for seven minutes in heaven.”

Max groaned. “So we’re combining the two most clichéd kissing games in history.”

“Yep!” Kayleigh looked around at everyone. There were no protests as the music switched to the next song. I thought about ways to get out of playing, but the possibility of actually kissing Ryan Chase kept me anchored to the ground, silent.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” Lauren announced. I wanted to throw my arms around her neck and bear-hug her.

“You could think of it as a sociocultural rite of passage,” Malcolm suggested. “Plus, statistically speaking, the
odds that it lands on you after any given spin are relatively slim.”

“A fair point,” she agreed.

“Oh, what the heck,” Morgan said, sighing. “Just spin.”

The way that Tessa and I looked at her, she might as well have announced that she was dropping out of high school to become a stripper.

“All right, Morgan!” Connor said, laughing. “Spin, Kayleigh.”

I sat cross-legged and relaxed my arms, trying not to look as tense as I felt. For a moment, I considered excusing myself to the bathroom and staying there until the game concluded. But, as I glanced around, no one else seemed to be defecting or even making a big deal about it. For once in my life, I wished my friends would think of Aaron and realize that I hadn’t really kissed anyone since him. Sure, I’d given Ryan Chase a peck on the cheek, and while it was sweet, it wasn’t the same as kissing someone on the lips.

But maybe it was as good a time as any—get it over with, less buildup for later. There didn’t have to be a right reason, or even any reason at all. Besides, I didn’t want to be seen as the only girl who wasn’t fun. I took a deep breath as Tyler gave the bottle a decisive spin that landed on Kayleigh.

Everyone clapped as Tyler laid a chaste but dramatic kiss on Kayleigh. I took a sip of my soda as Kayleigh’s spin
landed on Malcolm, whose spin pointed to Max. We agreed that spin would count for the nearest girl: Tessa.

These were just little pecks, but still the blood thumped in my ears. Tessa steadied herself for her turn. She spun the bottle and it loped around, finally landing on Ryan.

I wrinkled my nose, blurring my vision as Tessa leaned in to kiss the love of my life. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck. She jerked back and smacked his arm. “Ryan! Honestly!”

He grinned. “I knew you loved me, Tessa.”

Tessa’s cheeks reddened. “One more word, and I
will
have Morgan give you the consent lecture.”

This was it. Ryan Chase’s spin. I didn’t breathe as it spun around, slowing and slowing.
Come on, a few more degrees in my direction
, I begged. But the open bottle pointed directly at Morgan. It was the first time in my life that I actually hated Morgan.

The group—except for me, horrorstruck—hooted as Morgan squirmed.

“I’m not going to embarrass you,” Ryan said. “That was just for Tessa.”

Tessa made a face, and I averted my eyes. Watching two of my best friends kiss my ultimate crush was not my idea of a fun evening.

Morgan took a deep breath and spun, watching the bottle land on Max.

“Whoo!” Connor yelled. “Both cousins in one night!”

Kayleigh made a
tsk
-ing noise. “Promiscuous!”

We all giggled as Morgan gave her a death look, blushing furiously. Max looked down at Morgan.

“Are you going to freak out on me, Morgan?” Max asked.

“No,” she mumbled, smiling as Max kissed her. It was sweet and quick, and Morgan giggled as he sat back.

In truth, Morgan looked pretty pleased with herself. And, in more truth, I was now a little peeved that the bottle hadn’t landed on me yet. Even Morgan was kissing people, and I was sitting there like an idiot.

“By my count,” Kayleigh called, “this is spin seven!”

“Ooh, pressure!” Connor yelled as Max’s hand hovered over the bottle.

He really put his wrist into the spin, and the bottle went wild, veering sideways as it lost momentum. I can’t explain why I knew in my bones what would happen one second before it did. The bottle circled back, slowly now, as it stopped so closely that the top almost touched my knee.

It was pointing, irrefutably, at me.

There was uproarious cheering as I looked up at Max and shrugged, an embarrassed smile creeping onto my face. I mean, we didn’t actually have to do anything in the closet. This was the ideal compromise: I would participate, but I didn’t actually have to kiss anybody.

“Rules are rules!” Kayleigh called over the cheering.

Max stood up calmly, smoothing his shirt.

“Janie,” he said, formal as he offered his hand to help me up.

I took it, much to the delight of everyone else in the circle. Max seemed to be playing along, so I did, too. I turned around and winked at them as Max shut the door behind us. This set them off into a frenzy of catcalls.

“Seven minutes,” Kayleigh yelled through the cheers. “And counting.”

In the dark silence, a shiver shuddered down my neck and spine. I reminded myself that I was alone with Max all the time. But the expectations radiated from the other side of the door, altering our dynamic before we’d even spoken.

“Hold on, there’s a side light,” he whispered. I brushed my bangs out of my face, just for something to do with my hands, as the light popped on overhead. It wasn’t a closet, but a small, unfinished space with cement floors and shelves of Christmas decorations. The water heater hummed in the corner. I pressed myself against a shelf behind me, looking over at him.

“We obviously don’t …,” Max started.

“I know.” I crossed my arms.

“Right.” He nodded decisively. “Definitely not.”

I tried to laugh, but it sounded shrill and uneven.

“Yeah, obviously that would … you know, mess up our friendship.” I made the laugh noise again.

“Right. It’s lame that we’re playing this game anyway.”

There were a few beats of quiet. In reality, it was probably five seconds, but it felt like five minutes. Five excruciating minutes of throbbing, hot-faced awkwardness. Outside, I could hear people exchanging stories about worst kisses. I strained to hear Tessa launch into her lizard-tongue story.

“So,” Max said. “Who was your first kiss?”

I thought for a moment. “Brian Marburg, sixth grade. We went out for two days. Ah, true love.”

Max laughed, eyebrows shooting up. That was all it took for me to relax. It was just us.

“What about you?”

“Technically, Lauren,” he said, gesturing to the closed door. “In fifth grade. She was in sixth grade, that cradle robber.”

“No
way
.”

“Yep. Of course, it was exploring a scientific theory more than a kiss. Very clinical.”

I smiled, but neither of us said anything more, and I pulled my arms in tighter without really meaning to.

“It’s okay.” He pushed up one of his cuffed shirtsleeves. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

Blood rushed to my face all over again, even though I wasn’t sure why.

“Embarrassed about what?” I asked. But he was right. I was embarrassed, and Max pointing it out made it worse.

“How badly you want me.”

“Ha-ha.” I rolled my eyes as I stepped forward to push his shoulder lightly.

“You have a thing for nerds, and that’s fine.”

“I do
not
!” I laughed. “No offense or anything.”

He held his hands up dismissively. “No offense taken, since you’re lying.”