Page 36 of Summer, in Between
My mouth dries and I swallow hard.
‘You want to kiss me?’
‘I don’t want to stuff up with Mick.’
‘Yeah, I get it.’I shake my head.
‘No, not just Mick.I don’t want to stuff up with you, Cat.I don’t want to do anything that will mess things up.I want to hang with you and your family at your house, I want to know you better.’He nudges me with his shoulder.‘You need to know that all that shit you think you know about me?That isn’t me.’
‘Wait, what?’
‘What you said about me on the way to the party?None of that is true.Okay, some of it is, but what other people say about me?That’s not the way I see myself.Does that make sense?’
I think about Isabel calling me a Stuck-Up Bitch, Mum’s blathering about losing myself in stress, Nonna’s hysteria about me ruining my future by way of unwed teenage motherhood, the endless school diatribes about maximising my potential when I don’t even know what my potential is.A lump rises in my throat.Maybe I’ve been really unfair in how I’ve perceived him.The realisation hits me hard and I’m glad the railing is here for me to lean against.
‘Yes,’ I say.‘It makes perfect sense.Actually, I’m still confused.What do you want from me?Wait—let’s be clear about something before you answer that.Don’t go assuming anything just because I want to kiss you too.’
‘You do?’His entire stance lifts and there is a smile behind his eyes.
‘I do.’
‘No, wait, let’s try something new for me,’ says Paul.‘Friends zone.No more talk about kissing.No more punching me in the arm because it freakin’ hurts.Friends.I work with your dad.You and I are mates.That’s it.What do you think?’
‘Mates.’I shrug.It makes sense, but man, I want to kiss him!I wish he’d never said anything about kissing me, because all I can think about is exactly that.But he’s right; he’ll be around the house all summer.Kissing will make things so much more awkward.
‘Start over?’Paul holds out his right hand.‘Hi.I’m Paul.’
‘Cat.’I take his hand and shake it.His palms are a mass of callouses.
His hand slides down mine until he grips my fingertips with his, staring down into my palm as if he’s reading it.
‘Fuck it,’ he says, and kisses me.
I kiss him right back.
His lips are soft but fevered.He tastes faintly of cola as his tongue pushes against mine.My heart goes on a rampage and my mind evaporates but not before my instincts kick in, sending a hand to cup that jaw, his stubble raspy.My other hand grips his hoody and it’s the only thing that’s keeping me upright, as I’m on my toes, teetering, clinging to this adrenaline-inducing balance of soft and hard.He kisses me in a way that I’ve never been kissed in my life, and it is the closest thing to magic I have ever experienced.I would bet anything and everything that nobody’s ever been kissed like this in the history of kissing.
‘Cat!’he pulls away and he’s panting as if it took all his will to sever the kiss.‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I’m not.’I move towards him, my hands outstretched.
‘I mean it.’He turns away, shaking his head.‘I want to be friends.’
The word is a slap, and it isn’t the wind that makes me bitterly cold.I jam my hands in my pockets and turn my back on the ocean to walk down the path.‘Sorry I’m such a shit kisser.’
‘That’s not it,’ he starts, but I wave him off.
I force each step further away.‘Friends it is.I’ll be seeing you.Mate.’
I don’t care if he couldn’t hear me.
