Unmaking Hunter Kennedy (47 page)

Her entire core flamed against him while their tongues found each other yet again. This time she sort of knew him. The weird awkwardness had disappeared.

It—
he—they
—felt completely right.

She had no concept of how long they kissed after that, but possibly forever had passed them both by.

He straightened, looked down into her eyes and let her go.

Vere stepped back. Her heart felt heavy and her gaze riveted on the pulse beating in his neck. She had no air left in her body. Her knees shook, and the butterflies from her stomach had flown to block her vision and flooded her head with noise.

Any clear thoughts were now impossible.

He said, “If you have nothing to say, I’ll go.”

Confused and shaken, a lump had formed in the back of her throat. Speaking was now impossible, could he not see that?

She needed time to think.

How was she supposed to know how to define any of this when she’d had no other kisses than his?

So, YES, fine. I felt something wonderful. Special.

Did that make it love? Was one kiss reason enough for both of them to lose their minds and try to change everything in their whole lives? Her heart ached at that thought.

No. He’s Hunter Kennedy. I don’t even know him, and he can’t be serious about a girl like me...he even said so...many times.

Vere knew she needed to be practical for both of them. She operated on facts, and facts would get her through this. She struggled to keep her voice from breaking. “I have to stand by what I said before. Dustin McHugh is not real. We both know it’s true. I don’t know what else to say to you as Hunter Kennedy,” she finished with a helpless shrug. “I just don’t...”

His eyes looked funny, different. They’d somehow turned a darker blue. Before she could look again he’d put on the glasses and his hat.

“Why did I think you, of all people, wouldn’t use me like everyone else?” His voice sounded tight, horribly cold.

“You offered. I didn’t—”

“Didn’t you?” He buttoned his retainer in to his shirt pocket. “Whatever. It’s for the best.”

Vere glanced at the ceiling.

No more words could come out right now. If any fresh air touched the back of her throat, she’d start crying. His comment was only fair—since they were dealing in facts.

I did just use him. I suck.

“You were right about the kisses. I lost my head after such a long, dry spell. I take it all back. There’s nothing there, like you said. We’re even now. You helped me. I helped you. The friendship thing is over, though. Thanks for the—fun.” He pulled his hat down low and glared at her before turning his back. “Good luck with Curtis.”

“What the
HELL
is going on in here?” Charlie’s voice exploded into the room.

Vere looked up and gasped, surprised at her brother’s intrusion. The cold air blasted her throat, making tears fill her eyes. She struggled to hold them back.

Charlie stood at the base of the stairs with his arms crossed. “Dude. Don’t think I don’t know you just made a move on my sister. I saw you kissing her.”

“How long have you been standing there?” Dustin flicked a sneer back at Vere. “Another Roth kid spying on private conversations. Chronic, that,” he said, his voice loaded with pure contempt.

Vere’s soul crumbled into bits. She locked gazes with Charlie and shook her head in warning. She would not survive another fight between them. Thankfully Charlie didn’t punch him.

“Move aside. I didn’t do anything Vere didn’t beg me for. Ask her. Or, maybe you approved this part of her ridiculous plan.”

Dustin shoved Charlie out of the way and took the stairs two at a time, not once looking back.

“What did you see?” she asked, after they both heard the back door slam.

“Only the two of you, full on, making out,
Vere!
  What was that all about? I took off to be polite, but when I didn’t hear anything I came back in time to witness the end of your little fight. I’m glad you were fighting and not something else, or that guy would be dead right now. What were you thinking? Did you really ask him to kiss you?”

“Holy crap! You’re nuts, you know that?”

She nodded. More tears crept out.

“What about Curtis? What if he finds out you kissed another guy?”

“Curtis and I are still on. Nothing’s changed. I sort of did it for him.” She winced. “I was being stupid.” Vere cried openly now. “Don’t tell. Don’t tell
anyone
. Please.”

“More crying? That guy has turned you into a crazy person. Since when do you cry all the time?” Charlie yelled, but his hug said he loved her. He kept his arms around her as she sniffled into the front of his shirt. He added, “I’ll bash the pop-star anyway, if you want me to. Just for making you cry. AGAIN.”

“Oh, shut-up. You will not. He didn’t make me cry. I’m just crying because—I don’t know. Because I like to cry.” Vere sobbed again, now gripping on to Charlie for dear life. She let her tears flood.

“Whatever. That guy is officially on my hit list,” Charlie muttered, awkwardly patting her back now. “He’s not long for this world, that’s for damn sure.”

Vere wiped the tears from her face and looked up. “Just stay out of it, Charlie. He was helping. I swear. This is all my stupidity—my fault. I think I led him on. Leave it alone.
I’m, I’m, I’m, just...
” She gasped for breath and started sobbing again. “
Fine!
”

She wished she could explain what Hunter had said to her. Tell Charlie about Hunter’s life. How he’d been so depressed and alone. How he’d said he loved her.

But she didn’t know where to start. How could she talk about something—
someone
—she didn’t understand herself?

Besides, she had a party to go to.

39: people missed, things forgotten

HUNTER

He kicked holes in the Roth’s lawn on his way back to his aunt’s house. Everything Vere had brought up had hit the mark, dead on.

How in the hell could he expect Vere to want to be with him when he wasn’t even a real person? When he had no idea who he was anymore? Was he Hunter Kennedy, the shut-down pop star from Los Angeles?

Hell no. I know I’m not that person anymore.

But am I some geeked-out, normal dude? A guy who just made out with a girl, thinking he had a chance with her and got shot down?

Double hell no.

I’m not that either...but it just happened to you so...shit. What does that mean?

Was he simply just the most messed up person in the world?

Are you Hunter Kennedy, or are you Dustin McHugh?

As he made his way onto the front porch, he turned and sat on the top step, taking in the purple-orange sunset. He rested his elbows on his knees and let his hands support the impossibly heavy weight of his head.

He couldn’t believe how much he really had fallen for Vere, not to mention how he’d pinned his heart to his sleeve back there. How badly she’d crushed it, even though she’d been
right
.

He couldn’t stand that he’d let himself even be in such a vulnerable position. It was so not like him to leave himself unguarded.

Rejection—real rejection—was way more painful than anything he’d been through so far in his whole life. He shoved away the images in his mind of the unbelievable kisses they’d shared. How Vere had felt so perfect wrapped in his arms.

He owned the desolation he was feeling now.

He’d walked right in and asked for it.

He should never have kissed her. He should never have played at being
Dustin
so deeply...

At least she’d helped him see that he had an even more disturbing thing to ponder now. Before he could even address how badly Vere had broken his heart, he had to deal with the reality of himself.

According to Vere, Dustin McHugh wasn’t real.

According him, Hunter Kennedy—the old Hunter Kennedy—wasn’t real anymore either.

Hell. The girl had every right to say what she did.

Are you Hunter Kennedy or are you Dustin McHugh?

Hunter sighed, not wanting to admit what scared him the most: He couldn’t ditch the nagging thought that he might be no one. No one at all.

The porch light flipped on, and the door behind him opened. But he didn’t turn around. Aunt Nan was probably wondering what the heck was going on. Hopefully she was making some sort of awesome dinner.

Whoever he might be—he was definitely always starving.

He stood and straightened quickly, but kept his back to the door, trying to compose himself. He didn’t want her to worry or catch him on the edge of bawling like a baby.

“I’ll be right in. Give me a second. Okay?”

The door closed and he was glad she hadn’t seen his face. He’d have to hide behind his glasses until he got himself together.

“Hunter?”

He tensed and held his breath. Had he imagined that voice? He looked straight ahead and shook his head.

“Hunter.
Hunter Kennedy.
Can I at least have a hug?”

“Mom?!
” He turned to see a very different mom standing by the door. She’d cut her hair short, and was wearing jeans.

Mom never wears jeans, does she? Am I dreaming this?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Please know. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes looked huge and very blue under the porch lights. The apology in them seemed so real his heart swelled with hope.

Hunter took off his glasses to get a better look as he approached her. Some more of that suspect moisture had come back around his eyes.

Damn. But it can’t be helped.

He launched himself at his mom and gave her the biggest hug he’d ever given anyone in his life. “You got my message,” he whispered, not caring that he might be clinging to her.

“Yes,” she sniffed, possibly clinging right back. “I was packed that night. I had to see you, sorry it took all week for me to get things arranged with Martin and...other stuff.” She wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“I missed you so much. God. Mom, did I miss you.” He let the tears come, so grateful to know at the very least, he was still someone’s son. He’d figure out the rest soon.

“I missed you too, Hunter. I missed you too.”

40: telling the truth

VERE

It took Vere an entire hour to stop crying. Then it took another hour for her stupid red eyes to un-puff, and it took another whole thirty-two minutes after that to stop thinking about all the insane things Dustin, or...Hunter...had said to her and to get her courage up to come to this party at all. Which is why they’d made it to Kristen’s quite a bit late.

But cool people usually came late, and that’s who we are now, right?

Cool. Super cool.

Even though I don’t want to be here? Even though I have the urge to go back home and cry some more?

UGH.

Vere tried to psych herself up. She was here now, and it was all going to be fine. Everything would iron out the moment she saw Curtis. Just the sight of him would set this straight. She knew it.

Thanks to what happened between her and her
x-BGF
, she had bigger plans than ever to kiss Curtis tonight.

I have to know...

I have to know...what?

She lost her train of thought and pictured herself kissing Curtis. She had to know something about how his arms felt around her.

Yeah, that’s it. I’ll analyze how his arms feel around me. How his lips fit against mine...and compare. Compare his kiss to the best kisses I’ll never get to have again? OMG. Never again?

Vere swallowed and put her hand over her racing heart. She felt herself starting to blush.

Jenna tapped her foot nervously against the freshly painted wood on the Hodjwick’s front porch. “Okay. So...yeah...are we really going to enter this madhouse?” Jenna asked.

Music blasted from the open dining room window. They could hardly hear themselves talk on this porch. The noise inside had to be deafening.

“Of course. We can
so
do this. Come on.” Vere rang the doorbell but nobody came.

Jenna rolled her eyes. “We’re idiots. I’m sure you just go in, or whatever.” She pushed the door and it swung wide.

The place was filled to the brim. Plastic cups and odd shallow puddles of spillage littered the floor in the entryway. Vere’s eyes widened. Mr. and Mrs. Hodjwick were out of town (or tied up in the basement) because,
no way,
would they have allowed a party like this.

She darted a glance at a huge mass of people in the front living room. The whole soccer team it seemed (boys and girls) were crammed onto the formal velvet couches, flinging quarters at a coffee table so they would bounce and land in cups.

“Yeah. Pretty intimidating.” Jenna’s eyes looked like saucers.

The entire football team was spilling out from Mr. Hodjwick’s den as they all crowded around the flat screen, watching some game.

Vere’s eyes rounded-out more than Jenna’s when they spotted Howie Rutherford sitting crossed legged in the center of Mr. Hodjwick’s desk, downing a beer.

Jeez. Play it cool, Vere. Pretend you’ve seen it all before.

Jenna was lost in the crowd right about when Vere located Curtis dancing with what appeared to be a somewhat drunk, Kristen Hodjwick.

Ugh. Ugh. And Ugh.

It took Vere only three seconds to realize she did not want to be with Curtis Wishford. Not at all. Not one bit. She understood with almost painful clarity what she’d already suspected when she’d been on the front porch.