mustering up a smile. She tilts her head and gives me a hard look, but I turn away and grab my bag from the back of my chair. “Thanks for lunch. I better get home.”
“Do you want a ride?” Mel grabs her keys from the counter.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll walk.” It’s about a mile and a half to my house, but I’m restless and need to stretch my legs.
Mel walks me out and gives me a quick, fierce hug, shoving a folded piece of paper into my hand. “Think about it,” she whispers.
I tuck the paper into my pocket and pull away. “Pick me up tomorrow?” The dentist office where my mom works as a receptionist isn’t exactly on the way to the Float & Boat, so it will make more sense to ride with Mel.
“Can’t wait!” She disappears inside the house, the front door brushing the bright green leaves of a tomato plant as it closes.
I wander through Mel’s neighborhood, not bothering to take the most direct route home. It feels good to move. Almost every house I pass has a different kind of flower growing in the yard, erupting out of pots on the front porch or hanging heavy from vines wrapped around wooden trellises. The smells wash over me, almost overwhelmingly strong, dragging out unbidden memories of sitting in Mark’s backyard at night, our fingers tangled together as we watched our little brothers kick a soccer ball past his mother’s prize rosebushes.
I pull the piece of paper out of my pocket and smooth out the creases, Mel’s handwriting laying out the rules for how I’m supposed to get over my heartbreak. At this point, I don’t even really know how I feel. Mark and I have only been broken up for a couple of weeks, and already so much has changed—I kissed someone else and got a new job, Mel and Seth seem like they’re right on the verge of getting together, and my dad is suddenly demanding we all hang out as a family. What will it be like when Mark goes off to college in the fall? Things will be changing for both of us every day, and even if we hadn’t broken up, we wouldn’t have been experiencing them together. If we had kept dating, how would I have even known that the person coming home for Thanksgiving break was the same Mark I kissed good-bye at the end of the summer?
I kick at a chunk of concrete that has come loose from the sidewalk. I don’t want to hook up with a bunch of guys just for the sake of some stupid game. But if I don’t get out there and meet people, how am I ever going to find someone new? That’s what I want—to find a guy who makes me feel the way Mark did . . . but who won’t break my heart in the end.
I fold the list back up and put it in my pocket, then sit down on my front step and stretch, letting the tension ease out of my muscles and tilting my face up to the hot summer sun. Maybe Mel’s idea isn’t such a bad one. Maybe all I have to do is take a chance.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next week flies by. Bob has me scheduled at the Float & Boat nearly every day, desperate for the extra help. At first Killian refused to let me lift anything heavy and ran around like a maniac grabbing inner tubes and canoe paddles out of my hands until I told him that he and his oversize muscles could shove it if he kept treating me like an old lady. Now I come home every night sore and exhausted, purple bruises peppering my knees from too many collisions with aluminum canoes, and annoying pop songs stuck in my head, since that’s the only music Killian will consider listening to. The Twenty-Six Kisses resolution lies discarded under my bed, and my running shoes stay buried beneath the pile of laundry I can’t seem to find the time to take care of, even as my legs cramp and twist each night.
I go online every evening and sift through my social media, trying and failing to imagine kissing any of the guys I know whose names start with C . And then I stare at Killian’s unanswered friend request, which he hasn’t said anything at all about at work. He doesn’t seem to be the
“Do you want a ride?” Mel grabs her keys from the counter.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll walk.” It’s about a mile and a half to my house, but I’m restless and need to stretch my legs.
Mel walks me out and gives me a quick, fierce hug, shoving a folded piece of paper into my hand. “Think about it,” she whispers.
I tuck the paper into my pocket and pull away. “Pick me up tomorrow?” The dentist office where my mom works as a receptionist isn’t exactly on the way to the Float & Boat, so it will make more sense to ride with Mel.
“Can’t wait!” She disappears inside the house, the front door brushing the bright green leaves of a tomato plant as it closes.
I wander through Mel’s neighborhood, not bothering to take the most direct route home. It feels good to move. Almost every house I pass has a different kind of flower growing in the yard, erupting out of pots on the front porch or hanging heavy from vines wrapped around wooden trellises. The smells wash over me, almost overwhelmingly strong, dragging out unbidden memories of sitting in Mark’s backyard at night, our fingers tangled together as we watched our little brothers kick a soccer ball past his mother’s prize rosebushes.
I pull the piece of paper out of my pocket and smooth out the creases, Mel’s handwriting laying out the rules for how I’m supposed to get over my heartbreak. At this point, I don’t even really know how I feel. Mark and I have only been broken up for a couple of weeks, and already so much has changed—I kissed someone else and got a new job, Mel and Seth seem like they’re right on the verge of getting together, and my dad is suddenly demanding we all hang out as a family. What will it be like when Mark goes off to college in the fall? Things will be changing for both of us every day, and even if we hadn’t broken up, we wouldn’t have been experiencing them together. If we had kept dating, how would I have even known that the person coming home for Thanksgiving break was the same Mark I kissed good-bye at the end of the summer?
I kick at a chunk of concrete that has come loose from the sidewalk. I don’t want to hook up with a bunch of guys just for the sake of some stupid game. But if I don’t get out there and meet people, how am I ever going to find someone new? That’s what I want—to find a guy who makes me feel the way Mark did . . . but who won’t break my heart in the end.
I fold the list back up and put it in my pocket, then sit down on my front step and stretch, letting the tension ease out of my muscles and tilting my face up to the hot summer sun. Maybe Mel’s idea isn’t such a bad one. Maybe all I have to do is take a chance.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next week flies by. Bob has me scheduled at the Float & Boat nearly every day, desperate for the extra help. At first Killian refused to let me lift anything heavy and ran around like a maniac grabbing inner tubes and canoe paddles out of my hands until I told him that he and his oversize muscles could shove it if he kept treating me like an old lady. Now I come home every night sore and exhausted, purple bruises peppering my knees from too many collisions with aluminum canoes, and annoying pop songs stuck in my head, since that’s the only music Killian will consider listening to. The Twenty-Six Kisses resolution lies discarded under my bed, and my running shoes stay buried beneath the pile of laundry I can’t seem to find the time to take care of, even as my legs cramp and twist each night.
I go online every evening and sift through my social media, trying and failing to imagine kissing any of the guys I know whose names start with C . And then I stare at Killian’s unanswered friend request, which he hasn’t said anything at all about at work. He doesn’t seem to be the
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