Page 37 of Kiss Collector
I lead Kenz and Lin to the door of the basement and yell, “Monica!”
“What?” comes her voice from the den below.
“Let’s go!”
Seconds later she bounds up the stairs, grinning, her voluminous hair and chest bouncing. Mateo stands at the bottom of the stairs.
I give him a wave. “Later.” He raises his chin in response, looking baffled by our sudden departure.
Monica smiles down at him, and then the four of us are out the door, arm in arm down the middle of the dark street like Dorothy and her gang headed to the Emerald City. It’s just after midnight.
“Please tell me you girls got some kisses. IknowLin did,” I said. “She nearly set the kitchen on fire.”
“Yeah, baby,” Monica says. “That skinny boy can kiss, too. How ’bout you and Brent?”
“Yep. It was a little rough at first, but we worked it out.”
They laugh, and we all look at Kenz. Hello, Stargazer. Monica elbows her.
“Hm? Oh, yeah... we kissed.” She sounds bashful.
“Two for each of us! Still tied!” I hoot, punching the starry sky and doing a cartwheel. Lin runs into the nearest yard and does a roundoff back handspring. Then we dance our way down the street, laughing as we pirouette and high kick like dance team girls. But we really aren’t fancy dancers. To prove it, Monica stops next to a fire hydrant, eyes us with mischief, and breaks into a twerk, bouncing her booty in front of the hydrant. We crack up as we join in, gyrating like true Peaktongirls until an old lady turns on her porch light and glares at us through her window.
Kenzie squeals, “Ahh! A witch!” and takes off running down the street at a sprint. The rest of us try to catch up, grabbing our stomachs with laughter.
When we turn the corner we hear the rhythmic beat of drums, and we gravitate to the front yard of the house where it’s coming from, but it looks dark.
“I think it’s coming from the basement,” Kenzie says.
We tiptoe in the dark to the side of the house and peer into a small rectangular window at ground level to see a band. It looks like they’re warming up. I recognize the main guitarist at once.
“That guy’s a senior at our school.”
“And I knowhim.” Monica points to the bassist, the quiet redheaded guy from my English class.
“Flynn Rogers!” I say. We watch as they pluck strings to tune instruments, and the drummer runs through a few rounds of beats.
Flynn parts his reddish curls down the middle and tucks them behind his ears. It’s weird to see him out of school, being all serious. As his fingers move fluidly over the strings, a rich, low current of music flows up to us. I’m impressed.
“Can I help y’all?” The voice comes from behind us, and we all jump, squealing.
A guy carrying a huge keyboard under his arm laughs at our startled faces.
“Sorry,” Lin says, standing and adjusting her skirt. “We just heard the drums, and...”
“It’s cool,” says the guy. He looks older, maybe in his twenties. “We’re practicing to audition for the battle of the bands thing in DC next week.”
“That’s awesome,” I say. “Good luck. Sorry for spying.”
He lifts a shoulder and grins, leaving us. We giggle as we sprint away.
We’re panting when we crash in Monica’s room, trying to be quiet. Kenzie flops onto the bed next to Monica, staring up at the ceiling.
“You guys,” Kenzie whispers, “I think I’m in love with Vincent.”
I stiffen and let out a bleating sound of shocked disapproval, then I leap up and jump over Monica to pounce on top of Kenzie, straddling her thin waist and grabbing her shoulders.
“No, no, no!” I say, playfully pushing her into the bed over and over, making us bounce. “You’re not allowed to fall for him!”
