Dark Kiss

I watched them go back to their couches and chairs, talking amongst themselves. Then I scanned the rest of the lounge with growing dismay at the idea that I’d fainted. I never fainted. “Did Stephen see what happened?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t think so. He took off. What did you two talk about?”

Our short conversation was now a blur. “Nothing, really. I don’t even know why he wanted to talk to me in the first place. He brought me up here, said I was special or something and then he kissed me.”

Her worried look shifted to one of happiness. “So awesome.”

I cringed. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Stephen Keyes kisses you, you swoon like some girl in an old movie and you’re trying to tell me it’s not a big deal?”

“If it was that big of a deal, he wouldn’t have just walked away.” I wasn’t going to let myself be too disappointed by that, but my throat felt thick and my eyes burned. He’d even apologized. Maybe he was sorry that he didn’t find me very interesting or attractive, or maybe he was sorry that I was a lousy kisser. He had said that I was too young.

And that dream I’d had about falling and the guy with the amazing blue eyes—that had been seriously disturbing.

“Can we go?” I asked. “Sorry, I—I’m not feeling so hot.”

Actually I was feeling cold as ice.

She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then closed it, her expression growing worried again. “You don’t look so good. Yeah, we can definitely go.”

“Thanks.”

“Stupid Stephen Keyes. Who needs him?”

Frankly, I wanted to put the entire experience out of my head. Following the wickedly sexy boy off to be kissed hadn’t led to danger; it had led only to the familiar feelings of disappointment and embarrassment. Stephen was the third boy I’d liked who’d made me feel bad about myself. Three strikes. I was out.

If I looked at it objectively, maybe this was a good lesson to learn. I didn’t need any more trouble in my life.

* * *

I didn’t leave my house all day Saturday or most of Sunday and I slept in past noon all weekend. It was highly unlike me to stay in bed so long. I figured I was coming down with the flu. That could explain the passing out and my recent chills.

Late Sunday afternoon, however, I forced myself to go to the movies with Carly. Even though it was only mid-October and the temperature read fifty-five degrees, it felt like it was freezing outside. Carly picked me up in her red Volkswagen Beetle—a gift from her parents for her birthday last month. My dad was generous with my presents and weekly allowance, especially since my parents had split two years ago and he’d moved to England for his law firm, but a few gifts and some cash weren’t nearly the same as getting a car.

We paid good money to see Zombie Queen IV, which turned out to be possibly the worst movie in the history of mankind. As a self-proclaimed horror movie aficionado—with a deep fondness for all things George A. Romero—it took a lot to impress me.

“I’m so hungry,” I said as we exited the theater while the credits rolled over the bloody, severed head of the hero. Even after gobbling down a large popcorn with extra butter, I was famished. It was strange. I’d pigged out all weekend. I didn’t normally have such a voracious appetite.

“Maybe you’re pregnant,” Carly joked.

I eyed her. “Highly doubtful.”

“I guess you’re right. To be pregnant you’d have to actually be getting it on with somebody.”

“Getting it on?” I repeated. “What a lovely way to put it. Besides, I’m starving, remember? Doesn’t pregnancy make you want to throw up?”

“It would make me want to throw up. Actually, I feel sick just thinking about it.”

Carly hadn’t brought up what had happened—or, rather, not happened—with Stephen at the club. It was appreciated more than she knew. If I could, I’d take a pill to forget about the embarrassment of him walking away after our kiss and leaving me standing there all alone. My crush on him had officially been crushed.

“Hey, Samantha!”

I turned to see a boy from my history class waving at me—Noah. He stood in a line waiting to get into the next showing of Zombie Queen IV.

“Be warned, that’s a ridiculously bad movie,” I said as we passed him on our way out to the lobby.

“I’ll take my chances.” Noah grinned. “You’re looking good tonight.”

“Oh…uh, thanks.”

That was a strange thing for him to say. We’d never really spoken that much before. Maybe he was just being extra-friendly tonight.

Carly didn’t say anything until we’d moved out of hearing distance. “So what’s up with you getting hit on today? That’s the second time since we got here. Am I totally invisible all of a sudden?”

The first time was when a guy named Mike—someone else I barely talked to at school—had sat right next to me in the theater and offered me some of his popcorn after I’d eaten all of mine. I honestly hadn’t thought anything of it, but I guess Carly had noticed.

I frowned. “Who said that? I could have sworn I heard a voice, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

She swatted me. “You’re hilarious.”

“I have no idea what’s going on. Besides, he was just saying hi. That wasn’t exactly an official hit.”