Dark Kiss
Page 6

 Michelle Rowen

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Did I mention she hated me?
“I heard what you did at Crave on Friday night, you slut,” she snapped.
“Great to see you, too, Jordan,” I said.
“Julie said you were throwing yourself at him.”
My stomach sank, but I tried to look confused. “Throwing myself at who?”
Her green eyes narrowed. “My boyfriend.”
“Stephen Keyes is not your boyfriend,” Carly interjected. “Not anymore.”
Jordan’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
Oh, crap. I’d totally forgotten the rumors that Jordan and Stephen had dated over the summer.
Carly might not have a great deal of self-confidence when it came to standing up for herself, but when it involved protecting me, she did a great impression of a cute blonde pit bull. “From what I’ve heard, he dumped you last week, right? Sounds like he wanted to start seeing other people. And, FYI, Sam didn’t throw herself at him—he approached her. So if you want to blame anyone for your object of lust’s lips wandering elsewhere, it would be Stephen himself.”
Jordan ignored Carly like she was a mildly annoying insect and focused on me. I could see the confusion in her eyes. “I guess I don’t understand why Stephen would want to be anywhere near a nobody like you.” Her words were sharp as glass as she twisted them into me.
In the answering silence, my stomach growled again. Loudly.
Jordan’s expression soured further. “You’re disgusting.”
“Yeah, well, you’re—”
“Go to hell, klepto.” She spun around and walked away.
The klepto crack was a familiar insult from her, but it still made me flinch as if she’d slapped me. She’d been at the mall the day I’d been caught and had witnessed my humiliation firsthand.
“What a bitch!” Carly exclaimed. “Just ignore her.”
“I’ll try.” My face felt hot. It sucked to have the subject of the kiss—and my shoplifting embarrassment—brought up by someone I really didn’t like.
“She’s welcome to Stephen, anyway. But I don’t think he’s interested in dating redheaded giraffes anymore.”
I snorted. “That’s the best you can come up with?”
“Give me a minute. I’m sure I can think of a better insult.”
Jordan had succeeded in knocking my relatively decent mood right out of me. “I think I’m going to head home. Don’t worry about driving me. I need some fresh air.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Besides, I have to make myself a sandwich. Maybe ten. I’m starving.”
“If you don’t gain any weight with this new diet of yours, I’m going to be mad. I hate being cursed with a slow metabolism.” She placed her hands on her curvy hips. “Fine, you go pig out and I’ll see you tomorrow. And, Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Forget about what Jordan said. She’s a troll who’s just looking to get a reaction out of you to give her pathetic little life meaning. And forget about Stephen, too. Seriously. It doesn’t matter how hot he is. If he can’t appreciate how amazing you are, then who needs a loser like him?”
I shook my head and finally managed a real smile. “What would I do without you?”
She grinned back at me. “That is an excellent question.”
Even when Carly was dealing with her own romantic woes, she still did everything she could to make me feel better about mine. It definitely helped to have that kind of support in my corner.
My stomach grumbled again as I headed for home. I didn’t know why I was so hungry now. But I had the strangest feeling that a sandwich wasn’t going to help me very much.
Chapter 3
McCarthy High was a mile east of the movie theater and I lived a few blocks north of the school. While there were still plenty of shops and businesses in this area, it didn’t have the same cold, gray cement look of downtown. Here there were tall oak trees that were turning gorgeous fall colors and well-manicured lawns, still green, lining the side streets.
I’d lived in Trinity, New York, all my life. After my parents’ separation, my mother and I had stayed in the same house I grew up in. She hadn’t worked when they were married, but since the split, she’d gotten her real-estate license and started a job that quickly took over her life. She loved it, or at least she spent so many hours at it that she should love it. I practically felt like an orphan.
A distant rumble of thunder reminded me that a rainstorm had been forecast for tonight. I wanted to get home before it arrived, so I picked up my pace for a couple of blocks.
Then something slowed me to a stop.
A boy sat with his back pressed against the front of an office supply shop, the closed sign in the window just above his head. His long legs lay straight across the sidewalk in front of me. His hands covered his face. I eyed a couple of people as they passed by, but they didn’t even glance in his direction.
Typical. Everyone minded their own business in this neighborhood. Especially when it came to someone who looked like he might be a street kid. This boy wore ripped jeans, scuffed black boots and a plain blue T-shirt. No coat. I drew my own black trench tighter around me to help block out the chill.
Just after my parents separated and my father moved away, I’d reacted by running away from home after a huge fight with my mother. I’d been sick of her ignoring me and I’d wanted to make a statement, make her appreciate having her only child around a bit more than she seemed to. Even though I’d known that the world didn’t revolve around me, I’d figured that her world should. At least, a little.