First Kiss (5 page)

She has shown me who the boss is and who
is
in control, and it will never be me.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

I smile, looking up. His voice makes me smile.

Bastion is dressed in a light-blue, long-sleeve polo and a
thick, navy down vest. I can't help but enjoy the cut of his dark-navy jeans.
He’s yummy, and for no reason at all, we’re grinning at each other like fools.

"How do you know where I live?" I ask. "I
forgot to ask last night."

He leans against the fence he’s in front of, "You have no
secrets in a town this size, Erralynn." He bites his lip and I imagine it
between my teeth. It’s an odd image for someone who has never been kissed, but
I read a lot.
Black Dagger Brotherhood
is my favorite by far. There
is a decent amount of biting in those books.

I realize what he has said and clench my jaw as I walk up to
him. He wipes the peeling white flakes of paint from his hand and holds it out,
making me frown.

He pulls his hand back when I don’t take it. He frowns back,
"We just never really got properly introduced."

"I'm cool with it. You know, since you saw me in fleece
and all."

He chuckles. "So what's the news on you and jock?"

I shake my head, "No news yet, I haven’t seen him since
last night."

"He didn’t message you?"

I shake my head—I don’t want to tell him I have no cell
phone. It always makes the people of my generation uncomfortable. Like I am
some kind of freak.

"I have a pretty bad feeling about his intentions."

I flash him a grin, "Me too." Excitement is
everywhere. I pretend it’s all for Sam but it’s not.

He watches me like he’s searching for something in my face.
"Have you ever met someone and wondered everything about them all at
once?"

I laugh and am about to lie but I don’t. I nod and look down.
I can't be forward and look at him.

He turns me around to face him, "You are bewitching me. I
am starting to think the rumors are true about you."

I freeze in my steps and literally wait for the sound of my
heart smashing on the cold cement. That had been the thing I liked the most
about him. Until the moment we are frozen in, he had seen me and only me. No
rumors or stupid curses.

I like being the girl with the guitar, the voice, and the red
hair. I hate being the Lake girl who is from the Lake family and suffers from
the Lake curse.

He cocks his head, "I was joking." His eyes seem
like they are searching my face for something.

I shake my head and pull free of him, taking a step back and
looking down at the broken sidewalk. "It's cool."

"I'm beginning to see that it was a bad joke. I was
honestly kidding."

I shrug and try to laugh it off but my eyes are close to
welling. I hate that he sees me the way they all do.

He grabs my hands and holds them. "I don’t know what
happens in small towns, but I know the minute I watched you enter that house, I
have thought of nothing but you. I don’t think
it’s
magic or curses. I don’t believe in them." He lifts a hand and tilts my
face, "It was a bad joke. Brandon told me about the Lake curse. He was
making jokes up about it. I didn’t know it was something you have actually
suffered from. You seemed popular at the party. I assumed no one but the
elderly believed it."

My eyes dart, avoiding his. The pity on his face stings in my
heart. I pull my hands away and walk past him, "It's no big deal." My
voice is soft.

"Please, don’t do whatever you're doing."

I shake my head and smile at him, "I'm not doing
anything. Really, it's fine."

He frowns, "Your smile hasn’t reached your eyes, and I
can almost feel you pushing me away."

His warmth against me gives me chills but everything feels
different. He knows the truth. I should have assumed he would.

Four months and no one will know about it.

"So can we just talk about the whole curse thing for like
a minute longer?"

I laugh bitterly and wrap my arms around myself. I have to
hold myself together.

"I don’t get it."

I look straight ahead and try to let it all be nothing. I
speak with a hollow voice and avoid his eyes completely. "What did Brandon
tell you?" I ask flatly.

"That your great-grandmother angered her husband and he
killed himself and offered his soul up to the devil so he could haunt your
family. Every woman in your family who marries or loves a man is cursed and the
men all die from some sort of accident."

I nod, "That’s about it. She was my
great-great-great-grandmother though. She settled here with my
great-great-great-grandfather. They were the Lachlan family then. They were
given the hundreds of acres surrounding the lake and named it after the family,
Lakeland. They built the mansion—he had self-esteem issues, clearly. The
house is ostentatious now, so back then, when people were building cabins to
live in, it was a castle. It made him like royalty around here. The story goes
something like that."

He whistles, "Sounds spooky." I can hear him mocking
me. "So that’s it? Every man who loved your grandma would die?"

I nod, “Sort of.”

"That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

I snort, "Okay. Well, the story has more details than
that. When they settled here, my grandpa went away to do business. When he came
home, my grandma was pregnant. He'd been gone too long for it to be his baby,
or so he thought. He couldn’t bring himself to murder her or abandon her.
Instead, he went to the South and found a woman who did hoodoo—a slave
from Africa.”

“Surely you mean voodoo?”

I shake my head, “The story I was told was
hoodoo
.
It’s an ancient evil kind of magic. Anyway, he bought her and brought her back
to the farm. Grandma had had the baby. He couldn't prove it wasn’t his kid and
Grandma swore it was his baby, so he had to raise it. But he knew it was his
best friend's—the man who had stayed on the farm with her while he was
away. Grandpa forced the slave to perform a ritual and curse my grandmother's
loins, but she was pregnant again already with his child, and no one knew. The
curse was so that any man who loved her or slept with her would die tragically.
It was his way of guaranteeing that she would be his. She didn’t know he did
it. The best friend was dead within the year, dropped dead in the field. Heart
attack we think."

"Okay, I'll admit it sounds interesting. But coincidence,
I would say. No other man died? How can you all be cursed?"

I nod, "Grandpa was dead two years later. My grandmother
gave birth to the third child, just after my grandfather died. The slave had
made the curse so powerful that when my grandmother’s second child, a daughter,
got older and she fell in love, her husband was dead within the year. My
grandmother and the slave lived out their years on the farm until the next
generation took over. Every one of them lost the person they loved. With most
of them it was after they gave birth to several children, but some were young,
and sometimes the person they loved most in the world died after just one
kiss."

He chuckles, "Okay, adding that to it makes it heavy. Has
it happened to recent generations?"

I shrug, "I don’t know, I guess. My grandfather had a
massive heart attack just after he lost the mansion, leaving Mary alone with
her kids. Her son—my father, died in a car accident and my mother killed
herself out of desperation."

He nudges me again, "Well, small towns are sad little
places where people need to find something to gossip about. They'll find
something else."

I glance at him and fight the smirk eating away at my face,
"It's been hundreds of years and they haven’t, so I'm going to say no. No,
they won't. My sad little family will always be the gossip of this crap hole.
But it dies with me. I am the last of the Lakes and Lachlans of Lakeland, and I
will never have a child."

His eyes twinkle and then he laughs and nods exaggeratedly,
"I guess so, huh? I am sorry." He steps in front of me again and
grabs my arms, "I swear from this moment on, I won't bring it up or talk
about it. Your family just seems interesting, that’s all."

I look into his eyes and watch for his smile to reach them.
Apparently, he is serious. I nod, "Okay."

He stares back at me with such intensity, I have to look away.
He shakes his head like he’s coming out of a daydream. "Weird. I just find
myself getting so lost when I'm with you," he mutters. He sounds shocked.
I don’t get him.

I bite my lip and push past him again, "I can’t talk,
I
have to go to school. I work in the library and am taking
summer math and English classes at the community college.”

He nods, “I know, Brandon told me you were. That’s why I'm
here. I'm working there too this summer. I’ll be the math tutor at the college.
The professor wants to meet with me. My uncle called her yesterday, and she
pulled some strings to get me in right away.”

I sigh, “So you’re going there now?”

He nods.

“Fine, but I need to hurry. I don’t like being late. The prof
is kinda bitchy and we lose all of our attendance points for the day if we’re
late.”

He grabs my hand and makes my skin light on fire where he touches.
He walks toward the school, almost dragging me.

He looks back and grins, "You don’t think it's weird we
feel so close, so suddenly?"

I pull my hand away, leery of him. "I think it’s
weird."

He reaches over and pulls my backpack off my shoulder, "Let
me carry this for you."

I let him. It’s heavy and I like being with him, even if I’m
sure I should be terrified of him.

Heads turn, like they’re witnessing a car accident, as we
cross the grounds to the school. Everyone knows who I am, from the eighth graders
on the high school side of the building, to the teachers. But he’s oblivious to
it all.

My hand rubs against the back of his, we are so close. I want
him to touch me and hold me, and maybe even kiss me. I think he might be strong
enough to live through kissing me and loving me.

Then again, maybe not kiss me, just in case.

I think I like him too much.

Chapter Three

"What is up with you and Brandon's cousin?" Sarah
asks, watching him from across the class. He speaks to the professor, nodding
his head and looking over some of the work.

I feel my face heating up, "Nothing."

She giggles, "So I can ask him out?"

My gaze lifts. She points and smiles, "Ha, I knew
it."

I sigh, "He's just hot and amazing and sweet." I
lean in and whisper, "He came to my window last night and we talked. It
was weird."

She looks bothered, "Ewww, stalker much?"

I shove her and watch him again, "No, sweet. He's caring
and kind. I think I
kinda
like him. It actually wasn’t
weird at all." I look back at the face she’s making and roll my eyes,
"You suck."

She laughs, "What? You know you're thinking it too. You
can't help but wonder if he’ll be the one to pop that cherry."

I groan and shake my head, "No, I'm not. I have four
months and I am free. I am not thinking about some boy messing with that."
I know my stare is betraying every word I speak. I can't help but notice
everything. The way he walks down the aisle of the class and slumps into a seat
near mine, off to the side. The way his gaze slides smoothly in my direction,
making my heart beat rapidly. The way he wets his lips and then they turn up
into a slight grin and make my heart stop completely. I want every moment and
detail on instant replay. I’m hot and bothered and uncomfortable for the first
time in my life, and not by one of the members of
The Black Dagger
Brotherhood
. Instead, it is because of a smart, sweet, and caring guy.

"Yeah. You really look like you aren’t interested."

I swat at her weakly, "I may look it but I swear, I am
not."

She laughs, “What about Sam?”

I feel my cheeks heating up. “I don’t know. You know me,
nothing is going to happen with anyone.”

Mrs. Benson looks at us all and speaks in her usual dry tone,
"Okay guys, we need to flip to page seven-eighty in the math books. I want
everything on that page on my desk in the hour we have left. You all have final
exams coming up."

I hate math. I turn to the page and look at the problems,
"I wish I'd just done better in math in high school. Community college
sucks butt."

Sarah groans, "Oh man. I don’t even know how to do this.
I am never going to transfer into a good college."

Bastion leans over our way, "Want some help? I am here
for helping." He says it sarcastically.

Sarah beams at him. My stomach twists when she giggles,
"Yeah, we both suck at math."

He smiles at her, "I gathered. People who are good at it
don’t usually have to take a class such as this one. Let me just get in between
you two."

I move over to the desk to the right and he slides in the
middle of us. He leads us through the problems, and I notice right away he is
flirting with Sarah. She is touching her hair and giggling. I don’t even
understand it. I would never have done that to her, not after she just finished
telling me she liked him. I shake my head and feel a little sick. I can hear
Maggie telling us how he was sleazy and had been eyeballing every girl at the
party. I had missed it. I was dancing with Sam and trying to ignore the fact
Bastion was glaring at me.

He keeps his body close to mine but angled at hers. I finish
my page and walk it up to Mrs. Benson. She takes it and smiles, “Thanks.”

“I need to use the washroom, and I was thinking since I’m done
I could just head over to the library.”

She nods.

“Okay.”

I leave the classroom in a hurry. My stomach feels bad. Like
I've done something horribly wrong but haven’t been caught yet. The nauseating
anxiety is trying to kill me. How could I have been so dumb? Of course, the
only guy who would be involved with me would be a player. He was sweet to me
when no one was around; that always was the worst red flag.

I round the corner and pick up my pace. I swear, I feel the
wind, but I ignore it. I push my way into the bathroom and into a stall. I sit
on the toilet with the lid down and suffer each flash of every moment we have
spent together. I think about all of the insta-love instances I have mocked in
books and movies, and how I have foolishly succumbed to my own.

It is the worst feeling I've ever had.
Worse
than waiting for Mary to beat me, or hiding from Mary, or waiting for Mary to
scream at me.
It is worse than everything all together.
Worse than being a Lake.

I pout for the thirty seconds I need and head to the library
to work.

Mrs. Hamilton, the librarian, gives me an odd look when I
wave. I sigh and grab the cart to start shelving books. I love books. I love
the smell and feel of them and the stories. I love the fact that everything in
them is a lie. The curses are not real and the beasts are never as bad as you
think.

I make it half an hour before my stomach is killing me and
anxiety has completely taken over. The whispers and glances from the people in
the library are bouncing off of the walls and shelves around me. As if it were
even possible, I think they’re worse than normal. My face is red and sweaty. I
hate it here. I wish the library and me were just transported somewhere far
away. Or even better, into one of the books where the world doesn’t make sense
and it doesn’t have to. The weak girl who is cursed finds her strength and
defeats whatever monster created the curse. In this world, I know I will never
be that girl. I will be the girl who runs from her curse and recreates herself.

When I can’t take one more second of the whispering, I walk
back to the bathroom and sit in the stall again, desperate to be alone.

"Lynnie?" Lune is outside my stall. I didn’t even
hear the bathroom door. “You in there?”

I look up at the closed metal door. I give myself one more
second and then walk out of the stall and smile at Lune, "Hey. Why are you
here?" Seeing her in the bathroom brings back old memories of high
school—me hiding in the bathroom and her talking me down.

She looks worried, "How’s it going?"

I frown, "With what? Why are you here?"

Her face is still, like she’s waiting for it. I refuse to give
in to my sadness. It’s crushing me like a weight on top of me and I can't
breathe, but I refuse for anyone else to see it.
If I share
it with her that makes it real.

"You heard, right?"

I frown harder, "What?" God, has Bastion asked Sarah
out already? How did Lune hear already? Why is she at the school? How does she
know I like Bash, like a
moron.

She sighs, "Oh, thank God. I got a text from Maggie and
went to the library to see you, but Mrs. Hamilton said she saw you leave.”
Something is wrong with the look on her face, “I assumed you came here to hide
out."

She’s scaring me, "From what?"

She gulps, "That party. The wind."

I roll my eyes, "The wind?"

She pales, "It's Sam."

My stomach drops. I feel weak and sick all at once,
"W-w-what happened to him?" I’m puffing my breaths out in shots of
air.

She looks
down,
her breath matches
mine, "He's sick, Erralynn."

My face is concentrated on the emotions and tears that I
refuse to unleash. My breaths become the lifelines I grip to, waiting for the
tears to pass. “No.”

She covers her face and shakes her head, "I'm so sorry."

I drop to my knees, "What happened?"

She shakes her
head,
"He just
started to choke on his breakfast this morning, like he couldn’t get air. His
mom rushed him to the hospital, but they couldn’t get his airways to open. So
they cut a hole in his throat and he's breathing through that. He's still
there."

I start rocking back and forth, "I never kissed him. I
never kissed him. I never even loved him, not really. It was a crush. The curse
doesn’t affect a crush.
It's not fair
,
I didn’t do this
.
I swear, I never kissed
him."
Tears stream down my cheeks.

I cover my face and heave into my hands. She doesn’t touch me.
I wish she would, but I understand why she doesn’t. I never even kissed Sam and
look at him.

I tremble and sob, but I can't get a grip on what it means.
The bathroom door swings open.

"Get out. This bathroom is busy." Lune shouts and
kicks the door shut.

"ERRALYNN!" Bastion’s voice rings out. The door
slams hard and I feel warmth surround me.

He lifts me off the ground, sweeping me up. I shake my head,
"Don’t touch me." I whisper into his chest and shoulder.

"Open the door," he growls. I assume Lune obeys him,
because it isn’t long before we are outside. The wind is there, checking on me
like a mother would. My arms wrap around his neck but my sobs never stop. He
carries me for what feels like an eternity. I hear the old gate and look
around. I’m home. The tears have stopped but my eyes are train-wreck puffy and
my throat hurts.

He looks at
me and smiles
, "You
okay?"

I shake my head. He looks at my house and frowns, "Would
you prefer to go somewhere else? I know a place we could go and you would be
safe. I would keep you safe."

I look at the old house and shake my head again.

He walks up to the front door. Mary opens it in her muumuu.
"What the bloody hell is this?" she asks with a cigarette clenched
between her teeth.

"She was injured at school today. I carried her
home," he speaks softly.

I try to get down but he holds me tightly.

She looks at me, “Faking hurt so you don’t have to work like
the rest of the free world? Just pathetic.” She opens the door wider, "You
can set her down. She can walk the rest of the way."

"No." He is firm.

I squirm, "I can walk, Bash. Thanks." I can't look
at him. Not yet.

He steps into the house, "I come in with her or I take
her elsewhere."

Mary flashes her dark-brown eyes at me fiercely, “Got him
under your spell, harlot?”

I swallow hard and lean into his chest. I can't stop the way
I’m trembling.

"You gonna take her somewhere else, are ya?" She
laughs at him. "She already got her devil hooks in ya, huh? Did you hear
about the boy in the hospital breathing from his neck after only one
kiss?"

I close my eyes. Tears drip down my cheeks silently.

She cackles and continues, "Did you hear about him? You
ain’t nothing but another victim, son."

He steps up, right into her face and growls. "He had an
allergic reaction, you filthy hillbilly. Any doctor worth their salt could have
told the doctors here that. You small-town people with small minds have no idea
what you're talking about. Now get out of my way."

She gasps and chokes on the smoke. He brushes past her and
climbs the stairs and walks right up to my door. I pull the key from my skirt
pocket and pass it to him. He smiles at me but I can’t meet his eyes. He turns
the lock and opens the door and closes it. He lays me on the bed and kneels
beside me.

"I'll not have you in there fornicating with her, she’s
the devil. I'm calling the police." She bangs on the door. He scowls,
standing up and storming to the door. He rips it open with such
force,
I swear the door has come off the hinges. He towers
over her, vibrating. His voice is frightening, "You do it. You call the
cops and tell them to come on down. I have some interesting bruises to show
them. Bruises you gave her. I know you beat her, you old hag." He pokes
into her chest hard and fast, "But that stops now. You lay a finger on her
and I will kill you." He pounds on her chest with every word he speaks,
"I.
Will
. Kill. You."

She cries out and steps back. He slams the door, seething in
anger and taking deep breaths. He keeps his back turned to me. I watch his back
rise and fall with his breaths, like a monster trying to gain control.

"Bash," I whisper. I almost feel sorry for Mary,
almost.

He turns around, nodding, "Sorry. I just can’t stand her
or anyone hurting you."

I see something on his face.
It’s contorted
in anger
,
rage
. It’s creepy. He walks back to
me and drops to his knees, taking my hand and wrapping his around mine.

"You should go," I whisper.

He shakes his head, "I can't go without you. Come away
with me. This isn’t you, this place . . . it’s horrid."

“No, thanks.” The image of his laughing and helping Sarah is
trying to overtake my brain. I feel sick about Sam. Everything is bad. I roll
on my side and bury my face into my pillow.

He rubs my back.

"Just don’t touch me," I snap in a muffled voice.

"You need me, Erralynn. You need me as much as I need
you."

I lift my face and shake my head, "I'm going to hurt you.
Just like Sam."

He smiles, "I don’t believe in curses. I believe in
anaphylaxis. I believe in allergies and insect bites. I don’t believe that
kissing your cheek is what did that to him. Anyone who does believe
it,
is a fool."

"But they all do."

"To hell with them all then. I mean, who cares? They are
beneath you."

He says the craziest things. I shake my head, "I do. I
care. I have to live here for four more months. I have already lived through
years of it, I can make it a few more months." I curl into a ball and try
to fight the tears that stream down my cheeks.

He climbs onto the chair in the corner next to the bed. I hear
it creak under his weight. His being in my room makes me feel more alone than I
ever have. He is something else I can't ever have. He is added to the list.

I try to fight the sleep but I can't. The emotions have me
exhausted.

I don’t dream and when I wake, the blankets are wrapped around
me. There is a sound filling the room. I open an eye, seeing him passed out in
the chair. His phone is vibrating in his pocket. I turn over and poke him with my
foot, "Bash."