Kissing Lessons Read online

  “What did she say?” Priscilla asked, clearly anxious to find out the story.

  Impatient for Emmaline’s less-than-speedy reply, he went ahead and dialed her number. After a few rings it went to her voicemail. “She’s not picking up.”

  Priscilla looked annoyed, which actually annoyed him.

  Emmaline was his sister. His responsibility. Why was Priscilla so annoyed? He kept those feelings to himself though. He didn’t want to pick a fight with her. Especially not right now. They didn’t fight often, but when they did it was exhausting. She talked in circles and went over every little thing he said . . . every little thing he didn’t say. It was better just to avoid a fight altogether. Yes, in the back of his mind he wondered if that avoidance was healthy.

  He glanced back down at his phone as though it would give him the answers he sought.

  His sister was usually quick to respond. This wasn’t like her at all. At least, it wasn’t like how she used to be. It was just more of this new Emmaline with her scowls.

  “Oh, look.” Priscilla pointed across the parking lot. “There’s Lia.”

  His gaze followed the direction she pointed, and he spotted his sister’s best friend, walking with her gaze down.

  “Lia,” he called.

  The girl looked up and froze.

  He strolled over to her, wondering why she looked like a cornered animal. “You seen my sister?”

  “Uhhh.” Her gaze darted back and forth between Priscilla and him. “She already . . . left,” she replied haltingly as her hands tightened their grip on the straps of her backpack.

  “Not with you?” He angled his head, studying her. If he didn’t give Emmaline a ride home, then Lia did. It had always been him or Lia.

  “Uhhh.”

  Priscilla sighed with exasperation. “Who is she with, Lia? Did she skip class? Do you know where she is or not?”

  Lia’s knuckles turned white where they clutched her straps. “She might have mentioned something at lunch about needing to talk to . . . someone.”

  The way Lia’s eyes avoided his sent up a flag. She was being deliberately evasive.

  Priscilla’s fingers tightened ever so slightly on his arm. “Someone, who?”

  “Hey, I really need to go. My mom is expecting me at home. I need to watch my little brother.”

  “Come on, Lia. This is ridiculous. What’s going on?” Priscilla demanded.

  He’d been relatively silent up until now, letting Priscilla do the talking. “Lia.” It was all Nolan said. He let her name drop as he looked at her, letting her see the concern in his eyes and compelling her to speak the truth.

  She released a heavy breath. “Fine. She wanted to talk to Hayden Vargas.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

  Instantly, he had flash of the party last Saturday, of Hayden Vargas with her heavily lashed eyes peering up at him. What was it she called herself? Oh yeah. Atypical.

  She was certainly that. Until Saturday night, he hadn’t fully understood that.

  His face went hot just thinking about the other things she had said. All your friends want to—

  He cut off the thought. Because it led to other thoughts about her. Thoughts that led him into thinking about her in ways he shouldn’t.

  “What does she want with Hayden Vargas?” he demanded. Evidently Lia knew what was going on with his sister. More than he did . . . which wasn’t saying much, since it didn’t seem he knew anything about his sister anymore.

  Lia’s gaze shot longingly toward her car. “I really don’t know.”

  Nolan figured that was a lie, but he wasn’t sticking around for the truth. It wasn’t Lia’s job to keep him up to date on his sister.

  He turned away and started walking toward his own vehicle. Priscilla stuck close to his side. “Why would your sister need to talk to Hayden Vargas?”

  He shook his head, not bothering to point out that he just asked Lia that very question with no success. “I have no idea.”

  First his sister was talking with Hayden at the party this weekend and now this? It seemed far too coincidental. Had something happened between them that night? As far as he knew, it was the only time they had ever talked. They weren’t in the same grade or any of the same classes and they didn’t run in the same crowd. What could possibly motivate this . . . whatever it was?

  “Well, you better nip that in the bud. Hayden Vargas is not someone you want hanging out with your sister,” Priscilla chirped beside him.

  “What do you know about Hayden?”

  “I know she has a reputation.”

  Irritation coursed through him, and he wasn’t sure why. He’d thought the same thing when he saw her at the party the other night. Hayden Vargas . . . the girl had a reputation.

  He’d thought those words, so how could he be so offended over Priscilla thinking the same?

  Why should he feel offended?

  “So you mean you’ve heard rumors?” he clarified.

  “Well, yeah, and you know what they say. There’s a kernel of truth to every rumor.”

  “Is that what they say?” He stopped and faced her. “And who are they? Jerks? Assholes?”

  Himself. He suppressed a wince at the truth of that. He’d been that guy.

  She looked at him in bewilderment. “What’s gotten into you, Nolan?” Shaking her head, she flattened her hand over his chest, directly over his heart. “Hey, I didn’t make the world the way it is, but if a girl is like her, then yeah, people are going to talk. It might not be right, but it’s true.” She shrugged. “You should want to keep your sister away from that kind of ugliness is all I’m saying.”

  He turned and unlocked his truck, his chest tight and uncom­fortable.

  Pris was spot-on. It definitely was not right.

  It wasn’t right and he had to wonder about her meaning. Was the ugliness she referred to just about people talking? Or Hayden Vargas specifically?

  “My sister is smart. I’m sure I don’t need to worry about her,” he said as he started the ignition.

  “Really?” She looked skeptical as she settled in beside him. “I’m just saying, if it was my little sister, I wouldn’t want her anywhere near that girl.”

  “Yeah, she’s not your sister though. She’s mine.” His words came out sharper than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. He knew they had been together a long time, but sometimes he felt smothered. Like there was no boundary, no space between the two of them. As though there was no him anymore at all. Just them.

  A quick glance verified that his words had been harsh. Hot color spotted Priscilla’s cheeks.

  He turned his attention back to the road. “Sorry,” he murmured, hating that he hurt her.

  She sniffed and looked ahead with a nod, but her eyes were overly bright. “It’s okay. I would be testy too if the school sl—” She stopped herself from saying the rest, but he knew what she intended to say. It was another jab at Hayden Vargas. He snorted a little. Hayden had been right. People did say ugly things about her. His own girlfriend just proved that.

  He didn’t like the judgment and he didn’t like Hayden being vilified, but he didn’t love the idea of his sister hanging out with Hayden either. Call him a hypocrite.

  “So, did you understand the physics assignment?” It was a deliberate change of topic. He didn’t want to talk about his sister with Priscilla anymore. They were already dangerously close to an argument, and he wasn’t in the mood.

  His sister was his business. She always had been. Just like his entire family was his business, his responsibility. He would take care of it like he always did. Like he always would.

  Lesson #9

  Your comfort should always be a priority.

  x Hayden x

  Hayden’s curiosity grew as she drove Emmaline home.

  Emmaline sat beside her, only speaking up to give directions when required. The girl rubbed her palms over the knees of her jeans in clear nervousness.

  “Want to stop at Sonic?” Emmaline bl
urted, spotting the sign ahead.

  “I really don’t have time.” They’d left school early, but taking Emmaline home was costing her.

  Emmaline nodded but looked disappointed, and damn if that didn’t stab Hayden with guilt. She didn’t owe this girl anything, but there was something about her that Hayden liked.

  Before she knew what she was doing, she was pulling into the drive-through.

  Emmaline beamed and bounced in her seat. “My treat!” She dug through the outer pocket of her backpack.

  Hayden felt lighter, happy that she’d made Emmaline smile. It didn’t take much.

  “That’s okay. I’m fine.” Hayden wasn’t planning on getting anything. Yes, she was hungry, but she was accustomed to deprivation. Besides, there was a peanut butter sandwich waiting for her at home. She’d bought a fresh loaf of bread and a jar of Skippy yesterday and stashed them in her bedroom. It would get her through the week.

  “I insist. You’re going out of your way and giving me a ride home. Least I can do, since I kind of forced you.” She thrust a five dollar bill at Hayden like it was no big deal. “Sour green apple slush for me, please.”

  Nodding, Hayden accepted the money and turned to speak their orders into the intercom.

  “This is fun,” Emmaline declared.

  Fun. That was a word. Not a word Hayden would use to describe this encounter, but a word.

  Emmaline faced forward again and continued, “You have a lot of homework tonight?”

  “Not much. I have study hall second period. I can usually get it all done in there.”

  “Lucky you. I have a truck-ton of homework.”

  “I’m guessing you’re in all AP classes.”

  “You’re not in any AP?” Emmaline asked.

  “No. What would be the point?” She couldn’t juggle such rigorous courses and work thirty to forty hours a week during the school year.

  “It looks good on your transcript. Where are you going to college?”

  Their drinks arrived. Hayden took a sip of her peach iced tea and secured it in her cup holder, wondering if Emmaline was ever going to get around to the reason she was sitting in Hayden’s car. “I’m not going to college,” she answered as she pulled out of the Sonic parking lot.

  “You’re not?”

  She rolled her eyes. “There are alternatives to college, you know.”

  Emmaline fell silent for a few moments and Hayden shot her a quick glance. The girl looked so deep in thought that Hayden knew this must be a revelation to her. She was one of the privileged who had honestly never considered a future that did not consist of attending college. She’d probably been told she would go to college ever since she left the womb.

  “Like what?” she finally asked.

  “Lots of things.” She had a list of possibilities. Too many things to rattle off. She had options upon graduation. She’d researched several possibilities if her first goal didn’t work out, but she had her heart set on becoming a tattoo artist. She appreciated the skill that went into crafting and etching ink onto a person’s skin. It was transformative—living art that lasted forever, or at least for a person’s lifetime—and she wanted to do that.

  She’d taken some design classes as electives—and art, of course. She’d been working hard on building an impressive portfolio, all the while corresponding with a couple of tattoo artists in Austin, emailing them samples of her work. They were willing to meet with her and discuss a potential apprenticeship.

  Sure, if she was another kid who had been raised differently, by parents who took an interest in her education and future, she might have applied to design schools, but those places were so expensive. Apprenticing for a reputable, established tattoo artist could lead to a serious career—and in less time than it would take to attend a costly design college.

  She’d never be rich, but she could be comfortable. She could be independent and in a creative profession, working as an artist. It’s all she had ever wanted.

  As soon as she graduated, she was packing up, getting in her car, and going. She had saved what money she could. Just a couple grand so far. Not a lot to most people, but it was huge for her. It was everything. It would get her there. Give her a start. She could find a place and get a job while she completed her apprenticeship. She’d work two jobs if she had to. She’d do whatever necessary. She was going to make it happen.

  Emmaline slid her a dubious look and pointed for her to take a right turn. “You’re not considering a career in something illegal, are you?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “No.” She didn’t add anything else. The only person who knew of her goal was Ms. Mendez, her art teacher. Even her mother didn’t know. Her mother had no clue of her plans. It was Hayden’s dream, her goal, and it was personal.

  “My house is the third on the left,” Emmaline directed.

  Hayden pulled up and parked in her driveway, but kept the car running. The house was typical middle-class for the area. A two-story brick colonial very similar to every other house on the street, but still nice. Where nice people lived. Nice families with moms who baked brownies.

  “Well, here you are.”

  “Would you like to come inside?”

  Hayden grimaced. There was nothing she would like to do less than step inside this girl’s cookie-cutter house. There was probably a mantel full of figurines and family portraits on the walls. “No,” she answered. “That’s okay. I need to get going.” Back to Hayden’s own neighborhood. To her side of town, where there might be bars on the window, but she felt safer there. More at home. More herself.

  “I’d really like you to come inside. So we can talk.”

  Hayden flexed her hands on the steering well. “Look. You seem nice, but I can’t imagine what we have to talk about that you can’t just say right here.”

  Emmaline visibly swallowed and Hayden felt a pang of sympathy. Apparently whatever she wanted to say wasn’t easy.

  “Okay.” She sucked in a big breath. “I want you to teach me how to seduce a guy.”

  Hayden had not seen that one coming. “Seduce a guy?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her mind raced. “Okay . . . there are so many things I want to ask, but let’s just start with this: What makes you think I know how to seduce a guy?”

  “Well, guys find you irresistible.”

  Hayden laughed. She laughed so hard tears pricked her ears. She actually held on to her aching sides. She couldn’t help herself. It was the most ridiculous statement she had ever heard. Sure, she knew a lot of guys were into her, but she did absolutely nothing to encourage them. Most of the time she was rude. Indifferent at best. Her clothes came from thrift shops and couldn’t be called the height of fashion by a long shot. The makeup she wore came from the dollar store. Her hair had never seen the inside of a salon. Her mom attended two weeks of cosmetology school and she’d learned enough to perform a decent haircut when Hayden needed one.

  Hayden knew nothing about seduction. When she was with a guy, instinct led her. How could she teach this girl when she didn’t really know the tricks herself? “I’m not—”

  “Don’t deny it. You are. All kind of guys . . . you attract them all. You have this look . . . this style.” She waved a hand at Hayden.

  Hayden snorted. “It’s called thrift shop, honey.”

  Emmaline continued like she had not spoken. “You ooze confidence. You’re just cool and sexy and you have this edge and—and I want you to teach me how to be more like that. More like you.” She exhaled and gulped a fresh breath, her eyes shining hopefully.

  “I’m not popular.”

  “Oh, I’m not looking for popularity.” Emmaline made a sound of disgust. “I live in the same house and share the same DNA as Nolan Martin. That hasn’t helped me.” She nodded with conviction. “I don’t want you to teach me to be like my brother.”

  “Well, that’s good, since I can’t.”

  “You . . . you’re better than popular.”

  Better than
popular? Hayden gaped at the girl next to her, convinced she had lost her mind. If there was something better than popular, it sure wasn’t Hayden.

  “Okay, you’ve piqued my interest. What’s better than popular?”

  “You’re . . . legendary.”

  Legendary?

  A long pause fell between them. For some reason, Hayden’s palms felt clammy on the steering wheel. “I’m not sure what even to say right now . . . I don’t know how to teach you anything. Whatever I am is just what I am.”

  “Then just let me spend some time with you so that I can pick up on your . . . you-ness.”

  Hayden shook her head in rejection of this. “This is crazy.”

  Emmaline stared bleakly ahead, looking through the windshield at her house. “Just hang out with me and let me observe you.”

  “I’m not some freak for you to ogle over,” Hayden snapped.

  “That’s not what I mean!” Bright color spotted Emmaline’s cheeks.

  Right then a truck pulled up in the driveway alongside Hayden’s car. She leaned forward slightly to peer around Emmaline at the driver, and her gaze collided with Nolan Martin’s.

  Great.

  His expression revealed nothing, but just the same, she felt displeasure radiating from him. He didn’t like her. He didn’t like her talking to his sister. She didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know that.

  Well, she didn’t like him either. Judgmental jocks weren’t her cup of tea.

  “The police just arrived,” she muttered sarcastically.

  Emmaline rolled her eyes. “No kidding.”

  Nolan climbed out of the truck. Another door slammed shut, attracting her notice. It was the homecoming queen from the other night. Hayden really should know her name . . . but the information never stuck. Clearly, they were a match made in heaven. They’d probably be engaged in their second year of college and married immediately after they graduated. Kids before thirty. Vomit.

  “Well, this is my cue,” Hayden announced. “My time to go.”

  “No! Don’t go. Come inside.”

  “Uh. That’s okay. I’ve got to get to work.” Even if she wanted to come inside, which she did not, Nolan Martin and his girlfriend did not look especially keen on her proximity to them. The girlfriend stopped in front of the hood of Hayden’s car, propping her tiny hands on her hips.