Kiss List (8 page)

Dylan and I were officially dating. The announcement brought squeals of joy from my girls and ones of jealousy from all the other girls at school who found Dylan’s playfulness and boyish looks irresistible.

“He is so cute and such a nice guy,” Alyssa gushed.

“Forget nice,” Payton said. “I would grab hold of that fine ass and...”

“Anyway,” I said quickly, blocking out whatever vivid and very inappropriate thing she was doubtless about to say, “it’s still really early but yeah we’re having fun.”

Getting my dad on board wasn’t so easy, however. The first time Dylan came over to pick me up for a date I thought my dad was going to kill him. I managed to cool him down with the promise that Dylan would come over for dinner so dad could get to know him better.

When Dylan arrived at the door for dinner I was convinced things were not going to go well. He was wearing khaki pants and a nice tucked-in dress shirt. He had actually combed his hair, which for him just looked weird. He looked like he was going to church or something instead of a casual dinner. He even brought flowers for me. I had never seen him so nervous. During the entire first half of dinner, dad just glared at Dylan. For some reason Dylan reacted by adopting 19th century mannerisms. He stood up every time Caroline or I did and he kept on calling my dad “sir.”

It wasn’t until my dad asked whether I thought my soccer team had a reasonable shot to qualify for state that Dylan finally opened up and showed his true self.

“Oh, they’ll definitely make it,” Dylan jumped in before I could. He picked up a steamed carrot with his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. He swallowed and then said, “At least, they will if Sadie keeps on playing like she has been.”

“So you’ve been playing well?” dad said to me.

“Well?” Dylan said as he unsuccessfully tried to lift another carrot to his mouth. It slipped off his fork and landed with a splat in the middle of his mashed potatoes and gravy. “She’s the best player in the state. We’d be playing a lot better if we had her on our team, that’s for sure. I’ve never seen anyone play like her. You must’ve played with her a lot when she was growing up, sir.”

My father couldn’t help it. His chest swelled with pride at hearing the praise about me. He asked Dylan about how Dylan’s soccer team was doing.
Get Dylan talking on the subject of soccer and he can go on for hours. His eyes lit up excitedly as he spoke and his passion was obvious. This was the Dylan I knew. Though I don’t think he wanted to, my father was soon taken with Dylan as well. Dylan was just too funny and nice to dislike. Soon the two of them were talking like old pals, which was definitely not cool with me because it led my dad to discover a new activity he could enjoy: embarrassing me in front of Dylan.

“And when she was three,” dad said with tears of laughter in his eyes, “we went to a hardware store and she told me she had to go to the bathroom. I told her to wait. I let her get out of my sight for two minutes and there she was sitting on a model toilet...”

“Okay dad, I think that’s enough,” I said in panic.

No sooner had I gotten Dylan away from the dinner table than Caroline snatched him away again. She asked him if he wanted to see her paintings. Of course he said yes and she dragged him up to her room to show them to him. My jaw dropped when I saw how often she touched his arm or batted her eyes at him. The little brat was trying to steal my man!

By the time Dylan was ready to leave for the night I was horrified. I led him out to the front porch and closed the door behind us. “I’m so sorry for...” I began.

Dylan waved me off. “Are you kidding?” he said. “I had a blast. It was hilarious.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well I’m glad you at least enjoyed it,” I said. “I was horrified.”

Dylan laughed. “You have an amazing family,” he said. “You’re very lucky.”

Then he took my hand softly in his and stroked the back of it gently with his thumb. I felt a tingle inside of me as we kissed. The kiss quickly grew passionate but then I heard a loud, “Ahem,” from my dad on the other side of the door. Dylan and I both broke out in laughter but I noticed that he didn’t waste any time getting to his car and leaving after that.

Unfortunately, my time with Dylan was not always so lighthearted. Dylan’s parents were going through a divorce and he often wanted to video chat at night. He was so sad and I knew he needed someone to talk to so I never cut him off. Sometimes we would talk for hours and then I would be exhausted the next day at school and at practice. Dylan seemed to have some deep reservoir of energy and he would be all excited and funny at school. At night, however, I saw an entirely different side to him, one that nobody else got to see. I loved him for letting me in and for not being afraid to show his sensitive side. It was just hard to be there for him and also compete at an elite level athlete while maintaining a top-notch GPA.

It was Aaron Caldwell, of all people, whom I finally opened up to about it. I let a rookie defender steal the ball away from me one afternoon during practice and Coach Dumfy exploded. He told me that I couldn’t slack off this close to state and said I was letting the whole team down. My game had deteriorated significantly and he had seen enough. He yelled and told me to go home, to get some rest, and to come back the next day with my head screwed on straight.

I was furious with him but mostly with myself as I stormed out of practice. I saw my blue water bottle sitting on the edge of the sidelines and wound up and punted it away from the field as hard as I could.

“Hey!” a boy yelled. A moment later Aaron Caldwell’s beautiful chiseled face and tussled blond hair appeared in front of me. “What’s the big idea?” he demanded.

“I’m just angry,” I said. “I screwed up at practice.”

“So take it out on someone else’s water bottle,” he said.

I frowned. “That’s my water bottle,” I said.

“No, I imagine that’s your water bottle over there on the other side of the field,” Aaron said, pointing to where the girls’ stuff was. “This is where we guys have our stuff and that’s my water bottle you just booted.”

I was horrified. Of course I had to kick Aaron’s bottle. He had only been my crush for years. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll go get it for you. I thought it was mine.
My bad.”

Aaron looked me over. “You seem to be having a lot of ‘
bads’ these days,” he said. “Getting involved in a fight. Falling drunk into a pool. Is there something you need to talk to someone about?”

“I was not drunk when I fell into the pool,” I said indignantly. “I was pushed by Paul Dolan and Missy James was responsible. I don’t see how that’s any of your concern, though,” I said.

“Oh you don’t?” Aaron said. “Well let me explain it to you then, princess. Like you, I’m the captain of a soccer team, but unlike you I look out for my teammates. You’ve dragged Dylan into your drama twice now and I want to make sure you’re not messing with my boy.”

“Dylan and I are dating,” I said. “We’re supposed to be there for each other.” Why was he being so mean to me? Why was everyone being so mean?

And then, inexplicably, I burst into tears.

Aaron’s expression instantly softened. “Oh, hey now, there’s, uh, no need for that,” he said. He looked back awkwardly at his teammates practicing on the field. I turned away from the field. I didn’t want anyone else seeing me like this, especially Dylan. “Let’s, um, go for a little walk. I need to get my bottle anyway,” Aaron said.

We walked awkwardly side by side to get the bottle. I brushed my tears away with the back of my hand.

“So what’s going on?” Aaron asked.

“I don’t know, I’m just in such a bad mood,” I sniffled. Then everything poured out of me in a torrent. “Everything should be great. Dylan and I are dating and he’s really a great guy and I think I love him but he’s going through a lot too and it’s affecting my school and my game. I don’t know I just feel worn down and stressed right now.”

“Ah, so boy issues,” Aaron said uneasily. “Not sure I’m the right person for that. Uh, do you have a friend you can talk to about this?
Ya know, a bit of empathy from the right person goes a long way.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I shouldn’t be troubling you with this,” I said. “I’m sorry. Dylan is your friend. Forget I said anything.”

“No, look,” he said. He touched my shoulder and turned me to face him. “I didn’t mean to pass you off to someone else.” Aaron took a deep breath. “I know Dylan can be a bit bipolar and that’s difficult at times if you’re just getting used to him. He’s a romantic at heart and when he finds a girl as great as you he wants to spend every moment of every day with you. It’s a lot to take at first and I think with everything else you’re doing you’ve let yourself get overly tired. Let’s do this. I’ll grab a few of the guys and we’ll take Dylan out tonight for a boys’ night. He won’t be bugging you. You just go home and go right to bed and get as much sleep as you can. By tomorrow you’ll be thinking clearly again and sometimes that makes all the difference. Sound good?”

I nodded. Who knew Mr. Popular with the amazing blue eyes and incredible abs was so sweet?

“Good,” Aaron said. “And the thing with the fight and Paul and Missy... that’s all good too?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sam started the fight with Dylan and we’ve... come to an understanding, I guess you could say. Between that and the right hook you gave him, I’d say we’re even. I’m not worried about Paul; I don’t think he even remembers what happened. His hangover is probably punishment enough.”

“And Missy?” Aaron said. “You girls are getting along as well?”

“I’ll take care of Missy,” I said.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I want to hear,” he said. “Promise me no more drama, okay? Trust me, that will not end well. It can only get worse and given how bad it’s been, I don’t want to be around if that happens.”

I looked into his beautiful face. Who could say no to that? “Promise,” I said. Not really. I had a score to settle with Missy before letting bygones be bygones.

“Good,” Aaron said. Then he gave me a hug and all thought of Missy evaporated as I felt Aaron’s body pressed against mine for even the briefest moment. I had never been this close to him before. How could he smell so good in the middle of his workout? This boy was perfect. I knew that I was dating Dylan and I had no intention of jeopardizing our relationship but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy one little hug from a new friend, did it?

Aaron retrieved his bottle and walked back to the field. I watched him go and then thought I saw Dylan staring at me. I waved to him but he must not have seen me because he didn’t smile or wave back.

As I walked to the locker room my thoughts turned to a long night’s sleep. First things first. I would get some rest and then I would get even with Missy. Once Missy was no longer an issue, I would be able to focus on getting my team to state and being a better girlfriend to Dylan by meeting his needs. Dylan and I would ride off into the sunset together... right after Missy got what was coming to her.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Alyssa said.

I looked up from my laptop where I was writing an essay for my History of Ancient Rome unit in History class. I saw Olivia and Payton look up from their textbooks as well. We had all gathered in my room for a “study night” but Alyssa was holding her drop box for yearbook photos. “What is it?” I asked.

“Missy sent in another photo,” Alyssa said. “It’s the one with her and Graham kissing but this version is photo-shopped. I don’t even know how she got it to us, she’s on the other side of the country doing college tours this week. She must have had someone drop it off for her.”

She held up the photo for us to see. Photo-shopped was putting it mildly. Missy had gotten the quality of image of her kissing Graham enhanced and then had it superimposed in front of a wildly enthusiastic audience of football fans. A banner floated above them in the background surrounded by semi-transparent images of Graham and Missy laughing and wearing their recently-awarded homecoming crowns. The background was all black and white while Missy and Graham were vibrantly colored. It was stunning and very professional looking.

Payton whistled. “Looks like our homecoming queen is gunning for the cover of the yearbook or at least her own page with that photo,” she said.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Olivia said sarcastically. She had joined Alyssa and was searching through the drop box. She held up a CD and what looked like a check. “Was it the CD labeled ‘Yearbook Cover Photo’ or the $100 donation to the Yearbook Club from Missy’s dad’s law firm with ‘Cover Photo’ written in the memo line?”

“Are you serious?” I asked, stunned. “She’s trying to buy her way onto the cover?”

“Looks that way,” Alyssa said. “This photo is amazing. She must have gone to a graphic designer to get it looking this good.”

“Little good it will do her,” I said. If Missy thought she could bribe us to put her on the cover she had another thing coming.

The girls, however, gave me strange looks.

“Well, we’re not putting it on the cover, right?” I said.

“We’d have to license another photo or pay someone to punch up one that’s been submitted by a student,” Alyssa said hesitantly

“And it would be nice to have a bit of extra money for the club,” Olivia said. “We could use some of it for snacks. It would be sort of like getting the last laugh by using Missy’s money for our enjoyment.”

“You would actually put her on the cover?” I exclaimed in shock. “Let her go down as the immortal symbol of the year?
After what she did to me?”

“In fairness, you did go kind of boy crazy,” Payton said. “I mean, you spent an entire afternoon with a boy in the therapy room. Missy thought you needed to be brought down a peg; that’s just how she thinks. She could have done a lot worse than telling a boy you liked him when you didn’t.”

My jaw dropped. “You all practically forced me to do it!”

“We forced you to kiss a few boys,” Payton said. “We didn’t force you play baseball with Sam or skip school to be with David. You’ve taken this a lot farther than we planned.”

“Not that it’s a bad thing,” Alyssa said quickly when she saw my face flush with anger. “We are just saying we can understand where Missy is coming from. Not condone what she did, certainly, but we understand it.”

“It’s still not a reason to give up money and a free cover photo,”
Oliva said. “I mean, at the very least we have to put it in somewhere. It’s a pretty cool photo.”

“She...
argh!” I thundered in frustration. “This is insane! I can’t believe you’re all turning against me!”

“We’re not turning against you, girl,” Payton said. “We’re just not for throwing money out the door and going to war with Missy. No matter what you do she’s never going to understand that what she did was wrong. You can either fight her or you can forgive her and save many lives in the process. Come on, turn away from the dark side and join us over here as we bask in the light of free snacks.”

Et tu, Brute? I eyed them all with as much disdain as I could muster. These traitors had turned on me for the price of a few twinkies. The betrayal stung deeply.

Payton sighed. “Okay girls, let’s go,” she said as she closed her textbook and stuffed it into her backpack. “I know a hopeless cause when I see it. Call us when you’re ready to wave the white flag, Sadie,” she said.

I was alone and besieged on all sides but I remained defiant. I was Hannibal at Zama. I was Mark Antony and Cleopatra on the Ionian Sea. I was Spartacus. And I had clearly spent too much time studying history for one night. As the girls showed themselves out I closed my laptop and lay down on my bed. I closed my eyes but I was still too worked up to sleep. The photo of Missy and Graham was frozen in my mind.

I knew I should just let it go. Somehow, however, the idea of enshrining the too-perfect image of Missy in history was unbearable. I thought about my children years from now asking who the superwoman on the cover was and if I had known her. That could not happen, not when Missy had ensured that the lasting image everyone had of me would be crawling out of Chloe Walker’s pool in humiliation.

I wanted to destroy the photo. It was even more than that, though. I wanted to corrupt it and sap the energy and excitement out of the people in it. Unfortunately, that was impossible. There was no way to change a photo after it had been taken.

I thought back to Graham’s circled name on the kiss list. I couldn’t destroy the photo but maybe I could change the way someone looked at it and interpreted it. If I got a photo of another girl kissing Graham the same way, Missy would cease to be the queen of the school by virtue of being linked to Graham, the king. Everyone would see her as just another one of his many girls. The photo would no longer be unique and special. In fact, the more photos I could get of Graham with different girls, the more boring and commonplace Missy would seem.

I picked up my phone and texted Doug, the pot-smoking photographer of the Yearbook Club, telling him to show up at the football field tomorrow after football practice. The wheels in my mind were churning. I cackled with pleasure, sounding a bit like an evil mastermind from the movies, when Doug texted back “k.” The one good thing about having a stoner for a photographer was that he never really had any plans to schedule around.

The next morning I broke out the ivory dress that had worked so well on Sam. If I was going to make my plan work, I needed all the help I could get. I wanted Graham feeling as horny as possible when I made my proposal to him.

When I got to school that day I headed straight for the common area, knowing that Graham would be hanging around there until classes started. As I walked that way I passed Alyssa. Alyssa took a look at me at and frowned and shook her head warningly. I ignored her. If she wasn’t with me then she had lost the right to advise me. Then I saw Dylan, however, and all thoughts of Missy momentarily fled from my mind.

“Wow,” he said. “You look amazing. Who is that dress for?”

Dylan seemed less energetic than usual. Things must have gotten worse at home. I hadn’t really had a chance to speak to him since the day I had unloaded my emotions on Aaron.

“You, of course,” I said as brightly as I could, trying to cheer him up. “Who else could it be for?”

Dylan shrugged. “I just haven’t talked to you in a few days,” he said. “I guess the last time I saw you was at soccer practice but you were talking to Aaron.”

That caught me off guard; I didn’t think he had seen me. Was he jealous? “Yeah,” I said with a giggle, trying to sound upbeat, “that was bad. I sucked it up at practice and got mad and kicked his water bottle by accident. I think he was offended. I felt really bad about it.”

Dylan looked at me like he was trying to stare into my soul. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’ve just had a rough couple days and I was looking for someone to blame. Of course there’s nothing going on between you and Aaron.”

I felt myself well up with emotion as I saw the pain in his eyes. “Dylan, I care about you,” I said. “Trust
me, I’m not going to get into anything serious with any other boy.”

He nodded but still looked a bit defeated. I needed to do something to raise his spirits.

“Come with me,” I said, taking his arm. I led him to the other end of the hall. There was a staircase there with a small pocket of empty space beneath it.

“What are you doing?” Dylan asked.

I ignored him and poked my head under the staircase. A little freshman couple was making out. I thought I recognized the girl from the freshman soccer team. Perfect, she would be terrified of me. “Psst!” I hissed. “You two. Out!”

The girl squealed in surprise and darted out into the hallway. The boy ran after her. Dylan started laughing but I grabbed him and pushed him down under the staircase.

I squeezed into the space beside him. “Is this where you kill me?” he joked.

“Not yet,” I said. “I’ve got a few other things I want to do to you first.”

I slipped my arm under Dylan’s shirt and caressed his abs. Then I kissed him. I loved the feel of his skin under my fingertips as I pressed my lips against his. I wanted to feel more. I let my fingers follow his waistline. I slid my fingers under his belt but it was too tight to go any farther. Instead, I let my hand slip down over the top of his shorts and I rubbed his thigh suggestively. Dylan shuddered and pressed his lips harder against mine. Then not even his leg was enough. I shifted my hand decisively into dangerous territory.

Dylan eyes took on a glazed unfocused look as if he was having some sort of stroke but then he pushed my hand away. “We better stop that or I’m not going to be able to focus for the rest of the day,” he said.

I smiled. “That was my plan,” I said.

Dylan smiled back. “You’re evil,” he said. “You like to torture me? I can torture back you know.”

And then Dylan’s hand began to caress my thigh. I stared back unwaveringly, daring him to do his worst. His hand continued up my body until it rested on the zipper between my breasts. I had forgotten that my dress had a zipper in front but Dylan certainly hadn’t. He undid the clasp over the zipper and then slipped it down. Then it was his turn to move his hand into dangerous territory.

By the time we had left the stairwell, Dylan was in a very, very good mood. He looked a bit like a kid who had just tasted chocolate for the first time. I had to admit that he was not the
only one with a stupid smile plastered across his face. I walked through the hallways as if in a dream, savoring the memory of his hands on my body.

When I got to the common area, however, the smile slipped off my face. I could see Graham Knight over the heads of the crowd.

Target acquired. The fun was over. Now it was time to go to battle.