My Last Kiss by Beth Neal

Author:Beth Neal
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan Children's Publishing Group

16

THE RIDE TO SCHOOL with Aimée the next day is so déjà vu, I can’t even think. The only difference from the last time we drove together is that she’s not talking my ear off about early admissions to Ivy Leagues and where she’s planning to intern in the summer. I never thought I’d be nostalgic for morning overachiever reports. Then again, anything would be a welcome distraction from the nonstop loop of the same nine words in my mind:

It’s easy to jump when you get a push.

When she pulls into her assigned parking spot, a feeling of utter helplessness smacks me in the face. I spent the entire night with her, worried that whoever slipped that note into her bag meant what they wrote as a threat, but the reality is I wouldn’t be able to protect her from anyone or anything. I can’t even warn her if someone is coming, same as when I was on the bridge with Joules. I am totally, infuriatingly helpless. Even so, I feel responsible for her safety. She wouldn’t be receiving cryptic notes if it weren’t for what happened to me.

Everyone stares at Aimée as she walks across the quad to the main building. On a regular day, she’d relish the every-eye-on-her arrival, but this morning she’s scrutinizing everyone back. Her stare lingers on a group of guys sitting on the low stone wall that runs along the brick walk. They seem impervious to the early-spring chill that everyone else is bundled up against as they casually talk about whatever it is guys like that talk about. My eyes focus on the dent in the group’s nonchalant armor: Caleb.

His arms are crossed so tightly around his middle that it looks like he’ll collapse in on himself. His breath puffs around his flushed cheeks and he’s shaking slightly. He looks like he belongs in one of those videos we had to watch in health class about CPR and hyperventilation. For a fraction of a second, I feel bad for him. Then I remember what he did—might have done—to me and how it’s a very real possibility he wrote that note to Aimée to try to scare her off investigating. He’s not worth my pity.

I rise up onto the low wall to avoid ghosting through anyone on my way to him. I bend down right in front of him, meaning to study his face for some proof of guilt, maybe attempt a ghostly trick to will a writing sample out of his obnoxious orange backpack, but the only thing I can think about is his mouth closed around mine. My eyes wander to his lips. They’re trembling and look about as cold as mine feel. Pity seeps back into me.

Without thinking I trace the outline of his lips, awaking the memory of his kiss against my mouth. I yank my hand back, wincing at the dusty pain. He reaches into his pocket and pops one of his Tic Tac pills before crossing his arms tighter with a shudder.

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