Every Summer After(22)

“I’ve got a better idea,” Delilah said with a toss of red hair. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

Sam groaned.

“I don’t know . . .” I hesitated, feeling uneasy. “I’m not sure we have enough people to play.”

“Of course we do! You can play with just two people and there are one, two, three of us.” Sam eyed Delilah like she was a poisonous snake. “C’mon! It’s my last day. Let’s do something fun.”

“Just for a little while?” I directed my question at Sam.

“Okay, sure,” he sighed heavily.

Delilah clapped her hands and positioned us in a circle on the sisal carpeting. “We don’t have a bottle, so let’s just spin the remote to see who goes first. Whoever the top end is facing starts,” she directed. “Sam, why don’t you go for it?”

“If I must,” he said from under a swoop of tawny hair. He spun the remote, which pointed vaguely in Delilah’s direction.

“Delilah: truth or dare?” Sam asked with the enthusiasm of a dead trout.

“Truth!”

Sam locked his blue eyes on her like a missile: “Have you ever bullied anyone?” I shot him a warning glance, but Delilah was oblivious.

“That’s a weird question,” she said, her bubblegum lips in a twist. “But, no, I haven’t.” Sam raised one eyebrow, but let it slide.

“Okay, my turn to ask one,” she said and rubbed her hands together. “Sam: Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I do not,” he replied, sounding utterly bored and a bit condescending. I fought back a smile that started in my fingertips, and let out the breath I’d been holding since the night of the fireworks.

After fifteen otherwise dull minutes of answering truth questions, Sam rubbed his face and moaned, “Can we put an end to this if I choose dare?”

Delilah considered this until a look of evil victory fell across her creamy face. “Great idea, Sam.” She pretended to think, her index finger on her chin. Then she narrowed her eyes at him. “I dare you to kiss Percy.”

My jaw slowly dropped. I’d been trying to figure out how I felt about Sam for days. But the glare he was giving Delilah, like he wanted to chop her up in itty-bitty pieces, was a flashing billboard that read I would only kiss Percy Fraser if she were the last girl in the galaxy, and maybe not even then. My stomach lurched.

“What, don’t you think she’s cute enough for you?” Delilah asked, her voice as sweet as aspartame, just as footsteps came down the stairs.

“Who’s not cute enough for you, Samuel?” Charlie asked, stalking over to us in a pair of black track pants. He stretched up into a yawn that drew attention to his naked torso.

“No one,” Sam replied as Delilah said, “Percy.”

Charlie tilted his head toward her, his green eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh?”

“I dared him to kiss her but he obviously wasn’t going to. I’d be insulted if it were me,” she said, like I wasn’t sitting right beside her.

“Is that right?” Charlie smirked. “How come, Samuel?”

“Get lost, Charles,” he muttered, a high tide of blood red rising past his neck.

“Well, I wouldn’t want Percy to feel bad just because you don’t have the balls to kiss her,” Charlie said. He bent down, took my face in his hands, and moved his mouth over mine before I had a chance to react. His lips were soft and warm and tasted of orange juice, and he pressed them to me long enough that I felt awkward with my eyes open. Then it was over. He pulled back a few inches, his hands still on my face.

“You snooze, you lose, Sam,” Charlie said, looking at me with his cat eyes. He winked and straightened to full height, then headed back upstairs, leaving behind the spicy-sharp smell of his deodorant.

“Whoa, Percy!” Delilah grabbed my arm. I ran my tongue over my lips, the citrus tang lingering on them. “Earth to Persephone!” she giggled. Sam watched me silently, pink to the tips of his ears. I blinked away and bent my head, covering my face in a dark force field of hair.

I’d just had my first kiss, but my mind was stuck on the fact that Sam didn’t want to kiss me. Not even on a dare.



* * *





MOM DROVE DELILAH back to the city the next morning. Delilah gave me a hug, saying she had the “best time ever” and was going to miss me “so much.” I was relieved she was gone. I wanted Sam to myself so things could go back to normal, and I could forget about Charlie kissing me and Sam very much not kissing me.

The going-back-to-normal part was easy. We swam. We fished. We read. We made our way through eighties horror movies. Forgetting about the kissing stuff? Not so much. At least not for me. For Charlie, it wasn’t a problem. I’m not sure he remembered putting his lips on mine at all—it’s possible he was half-asleep or sleepwalking at the time—because he didn’t mention it.

I was sitting in the Banana Boat mulling all this over while Charlie and Sam dried off from our latest trip to the jumping rock (I stayed in the boat in a more supervisory capacity). It’s not that I wanted Charlie to mention the kiss again. I just kind of wanted some reassurance that I wasn’t a completely crappy kisser. I was studying Charlie’s mouth when I felt a tug on my bracelet. It was Sam, and I was busted.