A Thousand Boy Kisses(60)

I smirked and answered, “Ja?”

“Where’s your favorite place to go here in Georgia?” I couldn’t quite make out the expression on her face, but something was going on in that head of hers. She was planning something, I just knew it.

“The blossom grove, when it’s spring,” I replied, feeling my face soften just at the thought.

“And when it’s not spring?” she probed.

I shrugged. “The beach probably. Why?”

“No reason,” she trilled, then headed in the opposite direction.

“See you at lunch,” I shouted.

“I gotta practice my cello,” she shouted back.

Standing still, I told her, “Then I’ll be watching.”

Poppy’s face brightened and she repeated, gently, “Then you’ll be watching.”

We stood, on opposite sides of the hallway, just staring. Poppy mouthed, “For infinity.”

And I mouthed back, “Forever always.”



*



The week passed in a blur.

I’d never cared about time before—whether it went fast or slow. Now I did. Now I wanted a minute to last an hour, an hour to last a day. But, despite my silent pleas to whoever the hell was up there, time was rushing by too fast. Everything was moving too damn fast.

At school, the collective interest at me and Poppy being back together settled down after a few days. Most people still didn’t get it, but I paid that no mind. In our little town, I knew that people talked. Most of the gossip was about how and why we got back together.

I didn’t give a damn about that either.

The doorbell rang as I lay on my bed, and I rolled to stand, grabbing my jacket off my chair. Poppy was taking me out.

She was taking me out.

This morning when I left her bed, she told me to be ready for ten. She wouldn’t tell me why, or what we were doing, but I did as she asked.

She knew I would.

As I walked out of my door and down the hallway, I heard the sound of Poppy’s voice. “Hey, little man, how’re you doing?”

“Good,” Alton replied shyly.

Rounding the corner, I stopped when I saw Poppy crouching down to meet Alton’s eyes. Alton’s long hair was shielding his face. I watched as he nervously pushed his hair from his face with his hand … just like I did. Poppy’s words from last week came crashing into my mind…

He has long hair because he wants to be like you. He imitates your habits, your idiosyncrasies, because he wants to be like you. He wants you to notice him. He adores you…

I watched my baby brother rock shyly on his feet. I couldn’t help curling my lip in amusement. He too was quiet, like me. Didn’t really speak unless he was spoken to first.

“What are you up to today?” Poppy asked him.

“Nothing,” Alton replied sullenly.

Poppy’s smile faded. Alton asked, “Are you going out with Rune again?”

“Yeah, baby,” she replied quietly.

“Does he talk to you now?” Alton asked. And I heard it. I heard the tone of sadness in his quiet voice, the one that Poppy had told me about.

“Yeah, he does,” Poppy said and, like she did to me, she ran her finger down his cheek. Alton dipped his head in embarrassment, but I caught a little smirk through the gaps in his long hair.

Poppy looked up and saw me leaning against the wall, watching intently. She slowly straightened and I walked forward, reaching for her hand and pulling her forward for a kiss.

“You ready?” she asked.

I nodded my head, eying her suspiciously. “You still not telling me where we’re going?”

Poppy pursed her lips and shook her head, teasing me. She took my hand in hers and led me out the door. “Bye, Alton!” she called over her shoulder.

“Bye, Poppymin,” I heard him say quietly in response. I came to a dead stop as my pet name for Poppy left his lips. Poppy’s hand went over her mouth, and I saw her practically melting on the spot.

She stared at me, and in that stare I knew she wanted me to say something to my brother. Sighing, I turned to Alton and he said, “Bye, Rune.”

Poppy’s hand squeezed mine, urging me to respond. “Bye, Alt,” I replied, awkwardly. Alton’s head lifted, and a huge smile spread on his lips. All because I’d said bye.

That smile lighting up his face made something tighten in my chest. I led Poppy down the steps and toward Poppy’s mama’s car. As we reached the car, Poppy refused to release my hand until I looked up at her. When I did, she tipped her head to the side and declared, “Rune Kristiansen, I’m real freakin’ proud of you right now.”

I glanced away, not comfortable with that kind of praise. With a heavy sigh, Poppy finally released my hand and we climbed into the car. “You going to tell me where we’re going yet?” I inquired.

“Nope.” Poppy backed the car out of the drive. “Though you’ll guess soon enough.”

I tuned the radio to Poppy’s usual station, and sat back in my seat. Poppy’s soft voice began to fill the car, singing along to another pop song I didn’t know. It wasn’t long before I stopped watching the road and simply watched her. Like when she played the cello, her dimples deepened as she sang along to her favorite songs, smiling through the lyrics she loved. Her head swayed and her body moved in time to the beat.