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“Ella, open up,” Alden says again, and I stumble across the dark room to pull back the curtain.
A grin bursts across his face when he sees me. “How did you get up here?” I exclaim, sliding the window up slowly so it won’t squeak.
He pulls himself inside, then shrugs, like the answer is obvious. “Climbed up the trellis.”
I cast a cautious glance toward my bedroom door and hurry to lock it. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.” My parents are easygoing, but a boy in my room after midnight? No parents are that cool.
“Nah, everyone’s in bed.”
“Are you drunk?” I ask. That’s the only explanation for this sudden behavior.
His body shakes with a silent chuckle. “No, I got caught on the second beer. Hours ago.”
“What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
He walks over to me, and I fold my arms across my chest. I’m dressed in a tank top and shorts pajama set and it isn’t like that shows any more skin than what I wear on a summer day, but it feels different. Vulnerable.
“You’re going to the dance with my brother.” It’s not a question or an accusation, only a statement. He steps up closer to me and takes my hand. My heart speeds up.
All I can manage is a nod.
He slips his other hand under my hair and onto the back of my neck. Before I can fully realize what’s happening, he presses his lips to mine. I’m shocked at how soft they are. A feeling I’ve never felt runs through my entire body. Like a sharp stab of something that’s not exactly painful, but intense.
When he pulls back, his expression is so serious. His hand remains on my nape while he looks me in the eye. “I couldn’t let anyone else be your first kiss.”
I’m stunned into silence. He kissed me. It was so fast it barely registered while it was happening. Before he can say anything, I lean forward and kiss him back.
Something becomes clear in my head as his lips move over mine, showing me how it’s done. This is the boy I’ll marry someday. Nothing will ever beat this feeling. Every moment throughout the rest of my life will be measured against this one, standing in my dark bedroom on an early autumn night, falling helplessly for Alden Stokes.
A noise down the hall breaks us apart, and our breathing sounds too loud. When I hear a familiar squeak of door hinges, I whisper, “It’s Garrett. He won’t come down here.”
He nods, but retreats toward the window.
“Wait.” He climbs in here to kiss me then tries to bail without an explanation?
My hands fumble with the hem of my shirt while I gather my courage. “Alden, I like you. If you feel the same way, I won’t go to the dance with Oliver.”
With one leg over the windowsill, he looks back at me. “Go to the dance. Have fun. You deserve it. Bye Ella.”
By the time I get to the window, he’s halfway down the trellis. He drops to the grass and jogs away.
The kiss seems to stay with me while I toss and turn the rest of the night. It hangs on in my head all week, and while the dance I looked forward to so much is fun, it isn’t what it would’ve been if I hadn’t opened my window that night. Oliver is sweet and a perfect date. He even walks me to the door afterward and plants a quick kiss on my lips. Maybe I would’ve felt something when our lips touched.
If his brother hadn’t beat him to it.
CHAPTER3
Mom used to say that middle school was drama central, even worse than high school. I’m not sure anymore if that’s true. Maybe high school was different when she went. Oliver asked me out after our date to the dance, and I had to tell him I only wanted to be friends. That was three years ago now.
At the time, he was disappointed, but he seemed to get over it, which is why the news passed along the gossip line today probably isn’t true.
“Are you sure?” I ask Tori for the second time.
She holds up her hands. “That’s what Cynthia told me. She said that Oliver—well, she said Spare, but you know—told Caleb that he was going to ask you out.” Caleb is Cynthia’s boyfriend and one of Oliver’s best friends. He’s a bit of a nerd.
Oliver’s friend group is mostly the smart, nerdy kids. The ones you know are going to go on and have successful lives. The unfortunate nickname, Spare, has stuck with Oliver the last two years, since Alden made a joke about keeping his twin around for spare parts.
For brothers who are so close, they couldn’t be more different. At seventeen, both are way above average in the looks department, but Oliver is more studious, serious, and focused on his future. He has plenty of friends and has dated other girls. Despite the cruel nickname, he isn’t unpopular, but he couldn’t care less about his status. I admire that about him.
