Page 79 of Enemy Crush
“Hamish wouldn’t bite you,” Mason piped up.
“I didn’t know that,” Quinn said. “When was that?”
“I was eleven,” Mrs. Devereaux said. “I patted the dog on the head and it snapped at my hand. I’ve never liked dogs since then.”
“Sometimes they bite when they get a fright, like if it didn’t expect to be touched,” I said. “But Hamish is pretty chill. And he seems to like you,” I added, yeah hoping to get into Mrs. D’s good books.
Mrs. Devereaux smile was tight, but at least it was a smile.
“Just pat his back, Mom,” Quinn encouraged, “he’s so soft and just look at those big brown eyes.”
Mrs. Devereaux stretched her hand out for a fleeting touch and Quinn cheered like it was a major achievement. “See Mom, he’s gorgeous.” She went down on one knee and brushed her cheek against Hamish’s head.
“Quinn! Your dress!” Mrs. Devereaux exclaimed. “You’ve got a dance to go to, young lady.”
“It’s fine,” Quinn said, standing up.
I took her by the hand. “Yeah, we do have a dance to go to.”
“Okay.” She picked some fur off of her dress. “But let me take a photo with Hamish. Arghh, I wished I’d taken one with him holding the bag.”
Mason staged Hamish to hold the bag again and Quinn and I posed while her mother took photos, a lot of photos. Quinn attached Felix to her purse and we finally left, Quinn still raving on about the gift and the whole performance.
“Well, I have a confession to make,” I said, “it was all Mason’s idea. I don’t have a clue who Prince Windex is.”
“Prince Vindex,” Quinn said with a laugh. “And I know. But it’s still awesome. You’re awesome.”
“Not as awesome as you,” I beamed back.
I gave her the pancake family when we were in the car and she’d been reduced to tears, I kid you not. It was like I’d given her a Lamborghini or something.
“I love this,” she said, hugging me across the console. “You really get me.”
“Uh oh, confession time again,” I huffed out a laugh and nodded, “Yep, Mase’s idea.”
Quinn smiled and sighed softly. “Okay, I get it...Mason has all the good ideas, but it’s you that I want.”
Yeah, the grin became permanent after that and it was the first time I’d ever enjoyed a school dance. Though I wasn’t wearing a tie, my plain beige button down shirt was still trying to choke me, but I considered it all worth it for Quinn. She looked stunning in her blue dress with her hair curled in loose waves and smelling like a tropical island.
And as the lights dimmed and the music slowed, my courage kicked in. I wasn’t afraid to show everyone that I was head-over-heels for Quinn.
“You know what my Dad said once,” I murmured to her as I led her to the dance floor, “keep your friends close but your enemies closer.” And I guided her hands up around my neck while mine tightened around her waist. “I want you this close,” I whispered.
“Are you still calling me the enemy?” She arched an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Yeah, well I believe there’s also a quote that says ‘Love your enemy,’”I said.
“Oh, in that case, I don’t mind being the enemy,” Quinn said, her body swaying in sync with mine, our hearts beating to our own rhythm.
“Yeah,” I grinned, “long may we remain enemies.” And I lowered my head, our lips meeting in a sweet kiss, the rest of the room fading as we held each other, her soft lips sending sparks through me, my chest pounding at high velocity, our world spinning on an axis of its own.
And when our lips drew apart, the high remained and I had a feeling my senior year could only get better.
Epilogue
QUINN
Iwatch Miller whisk up a pot of mashed potatoes. We’re at my house, practicing the dish for our Health and Nutrition class. We have to present a three course meal to judges, Master Chef style. Miss Deeley is one judge, the others Mr. Lennox, my Chemistry teacher, and Mrs. Wilson from the Rise’n’Shine cafe.
