Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(12)

"I swear by all the is holy Jenna, I don't mind if you say anything, but if you exaggerate or make shit up, I will tell your mom you took her Gucci purse to school the week she was on vacation, and that you spilled Pepsi on it during lunch and that you had to have it dry cleaned."

Jenna's skin blanches a little.

Her mom takes her designer bags very seriously.

"Molly! I promise. And you know what? Kudos to you on trying to blackmail me..." She tips her head to the side thoughtfully. "So, okay. What were you wearing in the library when he was eying you up?"

I set the pretzels I've been holding on the bed, and crack open a sparkling water. It's lemon flavored and is my mom's new favorite beverage apparently, because there's a whole case of it from Sam's Club in the pantry.

I take a sip then sputter, "Ugh, this is so gross! How do people drink it?"

Jenna snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Molly, the library. What were you wearing?"

"Huh? Oh. Um, I think I was wearing a jean skirt. The short one my mom hates, and my Boston Bruins' tee shirt."

In case you're not up on your hockey trivia, the Bruins' won themselves the Stanley Cup last year. Another interesting fact about me: I am a closet hockey fan. Now, before you go and start jumping down my throat let me clarify: I am a fan of professional hockey, not the student athlete variety. I won't bore you with the details, because it's common knowledge my brother Matthew is a senior playing for the Wisconsin Badgers.

What's not common knowledge: my cousin Travis plays for Pittsburgh Penguins (an NHL team). My parents have always been fanatical hockey fanatics - but now that their nephew plays in the "big league" and their son plays for a Big Ten school, they're psycho about it.

It's not something I go around broadcasting unless you count the team bumper stickers on my Jeep. Wait. I guess that is broadcasting it...

"Is that the hockey shirt you reworked to make it tighter?" Jenna's eyes are sparkling.

"Yup."

"Damn girl, I bet you looked hot as hell. Especially to a guy like him. Man, I wish I'd have been there." She flops down backwards and lays flat on her back staring dreamily at the old Justin Bieber poster I have taped to the ceiling.

It's from fifth grade, okay?

"Maybe he was looking so hard to see what my shirt said?"

"Or maybe he was just looking at your ta-ta's," Jenna says. "Do you know how awesome it is that you had that shirt on? I mean, think about it. You've never been to a Ravens game, and here you are wearing a shirt from the NHL. I bet he got all hot and bothered - you know how 18 year old guys are." She flips over to her stomach and reaches for the pretzels, popping two in her mouth at a time. "He was probably wondering what the hell the deal was."

River Glen Ravens is the name of our high school athletics program, and yes I have been to a few of the games - but it has been a couple of years. I think I was in 8th grade or a freshman the last time I went to see my brother Matthew play.

"So what else were you wearing? What shoes did you have on?" Jenna takes the can of sparkly water I had discarded and takes a healthy swig. "Wow, this really does taste like shit."

"I was wearing wedges, and I don't see why that really matters - Hey! I can't believe you don't remember any of this. I see you every day, and this was only a few days ago."

She shrugs. "I have my own issues I'm dealing with, okay?"

"Like....??

"Like, hello, I can't find shoes to match my Fall Formal dress and its driving me mental. Let's go to the mall in Clintonville this weekend. Maybe they'll have something." I watch her take another chug of the water before handing it to me. "Ugh, why are you letting me drink this? It's so shitty."

Taking the can, I set it on the bedside table, grinning.

Seriously, sometimes all you can do is laugh.

And that's what we do - burst out laughing on my bed. Then I ask, "Why are you so worried about finding shoes? Fall Formal isn't for like, an entire month yet."

Jenna looks at me like I've sprouted two heads. "How can you not be worried about it? You haven't even found a dress yet."

"Well, that's an easy one. I don't have a date."

"That's your fault. You won't give anyone a chance."

"Honestly Jenna, that's because all the guys I have to pick from act like jackasses, and you know how that drives me crazy. And it's not exactly a crime waiting to look at dresses until I have a date. I'm okay not going."

"I don't even know you anymore," Jenna says in a staged whisper of mock horror.

"Seriously, how did I find you?" I ask, chuckling.

"I think you're remembering it all wrong. I totally found you. Now pass me that hideous water."

***

I am lying in bed, staring at my ceiling.

No matter how hard I try, it's impossible to fall asleep. It will not come to me.

Glancing at my clock, I note the time: 12:17 AM. Groaning, I flop to my side and grab the iPod off my bedside table, put in the ear-buds and click to my 'Mellow' playlist.

Letting out a long breath I didn't realize I was holding in, I close my eyes and give in to what I've been fighting all day long: the image of Weston. The undeniable attraction I feel. The flutters I felt throughout my whole body when I caught him watching me.