Say You Still Love Me(21)

By the time my turn comes, my palms are sweating.

“Okay! And last but not least . . .” Darian makes a drum roll with her palms on the back of the cardboard box used to shuttle over wood scraps for the fire.

I stand, feeling everyone’s gaze on me once again.

“Hope you like sour apple,” Kyle murmurs, and I can hear the smug smile in his voice.

And I hope this doesn’t backfire terribly on me.

“We have turtles at home, I’m crushing hard on Kyle, and I dumped my high school soccer team captain’s ass for trying to pressure me into having sex.”

Probably not what Darian had in mind for this ice breaker, but there you have it.

Eyes flash wide, mouths drop, and shocked, nervous giggles sound, and then people begin shouting out numbers. I stand with my head held high, like I’m unfazed, even as heat crawls up the back of my neck. Thank God for the cover of night, finally.

“Okay, that was . . . interesting.” Darian’s own eyebrows are arched as she looks at me, her words failing her. “Well, Piper? What’s the lie?”

Taking a deep breath, I finally dare look over my shoulder and down.

Kyle peers up at me with a small smile on his lips, dipping his head once as if in approval. I guess I didn’t totally fail. He holds up his index finger.

Number one.

I feel the triumphant smile take over as I turn to the group. “I’d never date a soccer player. They’re a bunch of crybabies.”

Laughter and jeers explode around the circle as I settle back down next to Kyle, my blood still racing through my ears, my eyes on the flames, unable to gather the nerve to meet his gaze.

Darian begins addressing the group—reminders for where to be tomorrow and when—but I dismiss her instantly. With Christa as my bunk mate, I basically have a walking, talking agenda anyway.

“You do not have a turtle farm,” Kyle mutters.

“I didn’t say I did.”

“Yeah, you . . .” His words drift as he realizes his own error.

“We have two snapping turtles living in our pond at home. They’ve been there since April.” My mother has tried to have them relocated, but they’ve somehow eluded the animal control guys so far. “But thank you for the idea. I never would have remembered them.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, and a soft curse slips from his lips.

“So . . .” I swallow away my nervousness. “Was that shocking enough for you?”

Kyle leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees again, making it impossible for me not to look at him, short of turning away. “Well, let’s see . . .” He uses his fingers to count out. “The most fucking convenient truth, if I’ve ever heard one . . .”

I giggle.

He hesitates. “ . . . a pretty ballsy admission . . .” But by the soft smile touching his lips, I’d say one that he’s pleased with. Is that a slight flush in his cheeks? “ . . . and then your lie.” A frown touches his brow. “So who was he, then?” He tilts his head to meet my gaze, and for the first time I see a genuinely somber look.

My breath hitches at the beauty of it. “Captain of the rugby team,” I admit. “How’d you know that part was true?”

He shrugs. There’s a long pause. “Sounds like he was a real dick.”

“You’re perceptive.” Please don’t be a dick, like him.

Kyle’s face splits with a wide smile. “So I’ve been told.” His gaze dips to my lips.

I feel the overwhelming urge to find out if Kyle is as good at kissing as he seems to be at guessing lies, and the brazenness to make sure I find out on my first night at Wawa. “Hey, so do you want to—”

“Miller! Rematch time!” a guy yells out, pulling Kyle’s attention away from me. A group of guys are jogging toward the nearby field, where a bright overhead light has been turned on to illuminate the grass. A guy bounces a soccer ball off his knee.

“Oh, you mean Eric. I don’t play soccer!” Kyle hollers back.

“What? You scored five—umph!” Eric’s words cut off when Kyle elbows him in the ribs.

“These guys don’t know what they’re talking about,” Kyle dismisses, then stands and stretches, his T-shirt lifting to give me a glimpse of a narrow but chiseled waist and dark hair trailing south of his belly button, his jeans sitting below the elastic waistband of his navy-blue Calvin Kleins. “But you know, I should, uh, head over there to, you know, console all those crybabies.”

I laugh. “Right.”

“I mean, I don’t play.”

“No, of course not.” I mock-frown.

He begins walking backward, away from me, grinning. “Because I’m not a crybaby.”

“You’re not. And by the way, did you want those ten sour apple Fun Dips with breakfast or lunch tomorrow?”

He gives me a gritted-tooth smile. “Canteen opens at ten thirty.”

“Mid-morning sugar rush it is.”

“Can’t wait.” He saunters away, Eric jostling him playfully.

“Oh my God!” Ashley squeals, sliding down to me. “I can’t believe you actually said that in front of everybody!”

“I know. Me neither.” And a quick glance around the group, namely at Avery’s and Olivia’s tight expressions, tells me they aren’t exactly pleased by it. But I guess when the new girl strolls in and basically stakes claim to the boy everyone else wants on the very first night, that’s bound to happen.