Page 5 of The Second Kiss
I start upstairs, but Mom stops me. “Oh, I almost forgot, guess who called today?”
“Who?” I pause between two stairs impatiently. I want to hurry. I have to make sure I look perfect for the game and the party tonight.
“Trina,” she says it like she’s revealing some great thing.
“Trina who?” I ask.
“Trina, Trina.” She laughs. “Trina Ricks. Our old neighbor.”
The blood drains from my face. I reach to touch my locket. It isn’t there. It’s still in my pocket, where I put it after Brad handed it back to me.
Mom doesn’t seem to notice my reaction. She’s laughing to herself. “She just called me out of the blue. It was great to talk to her. She wanted to let me know that Jacob—you remember Jacob right?”
I grip the banister to stay on my feet. Of course I remember Jacob.
“I guess he’s going to be stationed at Fort Lewis. He joined the Army right out of high school. Small world huh? It seems like yesterday those guys lived in our rental.”
I’m still standing in the middle of the stairs. Too shocked to move up or down.
“We should have him over for dinner sometime. It would be fun to see him, don’t you think?”
“Sure.” I make it sound casual, but my heart is pounding. I force my legs to carry me the rest of the way upstairs and into my room. As soon as I close the door, I pull the necklace out of my pocket. I rub it between my fingers. A thousand memories flood my mind, all ending with that day in my barn. I was barely twelve; Jacob was fifteen. Kisses when you’re that young don’t count. Especially not now, now that I have an actual boyfriend.
But still... I slide the locket across my lips and remember how soft Jacob’s lips felt against mine. Just a brush, not the way Brad kisses me. Probably wouldn’t even be considered a real kiss.
Grow up Jess.
I put the locket into my jewelry box and pull out the gold choker.
four
The Game
Mom drops me off at the stadium. I took a long time getting ready and the game has already started. Jasmine is with the rest of the cheerleaders on the sidelines. It’s a cold, misty night. I duck against the wind and hope my hair stays in place as I head to the pep band section to meet Taryn.
I love going to football games. I used to wear my “we wear red” shirt and sit with Taryn and the band. Sometimes we got crazy and painted our faces. When I was a freshman I even dyed my hair red. That was a mistake. The dye didn’t come out immediately; it faded bit by bit and ended up a sickening colorof pink against my wild, wavy hair. It looked like a ball of cotton candy—something that Lexie was all too happy to point out.
I pull Brad’s letterman’s jacket tight over my silk shirt to block out the cold. Taryn is at the edge of the band saving me a spot. When she sees me she motions me to come up. She’s wearing her red shirt and a red stocking cap with devil horns.
I look for the best route to get to her, not an easy thing to do in high-heeled boots. The stands are packed because we’re playing our rival high school from across town. The metal bleachers are slick with mud and rain.
Before I can start up the stairs, someone wraps an arm around my waist. “Looking for a place to sit?” It’s Shel, part of Lexie’s posse, but one who has been relatively decent to me. “We’re over there.”
I glance once more at Taryn, gesture to Shel, and then follow her to the other end of the stadium. “You’re coming to the party tonight, right?” She purrs in my ear, her arm linked through mine.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Good.” She guides me past the ultra-peppy student council crowd, completely decked out in red and black. Some girls are wearing feather boas and tutus. One guy has a long red wig, red tights, and suspenders. I used to wish I could sit in that section.
Shel rolls her eyes when we pass them. “Those are fabulous boots,” she says to me. “And Brad’s jacket looks great on you. I love your hair.”
We pass the parent section and the lower classman section and climb to the top of the stadium where Lexie and the rest of the “too-cool-to-show-school-spirit, be-happy-that-we-showed-up” crowd sits. I guess now I’m one of them.
I sit between Shel and a girl I recognize from my English class. Instead of watching the game they’re all talking about the party, or who’s dating who.
I have nothing to add to the gossip, so I watch the game. I want to be able to congratulate Brad if he makes an awesome play, which he always does. Besides, I love football. I used to practice with my brother Matt and the Ricks boys in the field behind our house, before they moved.
The Ricks boys.
