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“Okay.” Briar jumps in, all too eager to fuel the drama. “Are you and Jace dating?”
I wish I’d drawn anything but that truth stick. This will definitely end in tears now.
Laurel flashes me a smile that promises grief and misery. “No. Jace is unavailable.”
My skin crawls from the general feeling of “huh?” wafting off everyone present. “All right, next.” I pass the bucket.
Skylar, my neighbor, draws a stick and announces his fate. “Kiss.”
His girlfriend kisses him upon his request. They get into it with a little too much enthusiasm, evoking catty encouragements.
“What do you mean, I’m unavailable?” I continue stirring the anthill that is me and Laurel, which is already on fire. I do try to whisper though. “If we’re not dating, what are we doing?”
Laurel huffs. “I’m just a dumb old rebound. No, no, actually. Never mind. I’m not even that—”
I don’t think I could stare at her any harder. “Are you kidding me? You’re jealous? Is this what it’s all about?”
“Jealous?” Her voice rises enough for all to hear, not that anyone’s upset about it. All ears rotate toward us. “To be jealous, I would first need to like you.”
“Of course you like me. Why would you be so ticked off if you didn’t?”
Rolling her eyes, Laurel crosses her arms on her chest and turns away.
Across the patio, Link mouths to me, “She totally does,” and even Shane offers me a knowing smile. Why did I even look at him?
During her next turn, Laurel pretty much shoves the stick into my eyes. “Fire.”
Everyone else hoots and claps. We are everything they could’ve hoped and dreamed of in terms of this game. I raise my second shot glass high and toast Laurel before I down the hot sauce. It’s not even the tasty kind with invigorating undertones. It’s the cheap, overfermented crap that has only one flavor—nasty lava burn that lingers in my mouth.
Laurel joins the applause, clapping in a slow, measured way and making fun of me.
I grab one last stick—because I’m done with this idiocy—and chuckle. Perfect. “Kiss.”
My friends will faint from laughing, I swear, but Laurel’s expression drops. I swallow another shot of hot sauce. “Kiss me.”
Everyone chants, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”
Laurel’s eyes widen at first, then she wrinkles her nose and leans away. “No way.”
“You can’t say no if you’re in the circle,” say several people at once.
Laurel’s gaze sharpens into razors. She takes a quick breath and brushes her lips against mine for less than a second before pushing away.
“That’s not a kiss,” Alexandra shouts.
I agree, so I snake my arm around Laurel’s waist and bring her closer, then hold her face with my other hand. Five seconds ago I had this urge to just kiss her without giving her the opportunity to register it happening, but the way she stiffens in my arms… We’ve gone too far. If I kiss her like this, it’s over. I know why she’s mad. Anyone would be after hearing they’ll always be second to someone else. But the thing is, she could never be second. Laurel stares at me, defiant despite her usual tendencies to hide. She’s been challenging me since the day we met. Some days I don’t understand why she wants me around at all. We’re fragile, contrary, unkind to each other, perhaps even toxic, but something crumbles away in my chest. Something small, subtle, and hard to define, but whatever it is, its absence creates space for Laurel’s growing and undeniable grasp upon me. For tangible fear that I’ve hurt her out of resentment that has nothing to do with her.
“Get on with it,” someone says.
Laurel’s gaze becomes determined. She dips her face toward me and captures my lips with hers. Her mouth is angry and hard, and I hate every second of what’s happening. Kissing Laurel for the first time wasn’t supposed to be like this, with everyone watching and us being so awfully spiteful.
I almost move away, but Laurel parts her lips, and despite the mood, I kiss her back, gently, trying to imply that I’m sorry. I’ll apologize later out loud too. I’ll make sure she knows that I’m not holding anything back when it comes to her.
To my surprise, Laurel welcomes the kiss, and for the briefest moment, I forget about everything and everyone around us. She relaxes beside me, and I could die from relief. Perhaps she doesn’t hate me too much. Seeing as her hand clenches a fistful of my shirt, maybe she doesn’t hate me at all. And what is this feeling that’s burning away every thought? Her lips turn me inside out, rip me piece by piece until it feels like my heart tumbles out of my chest and into her hands. I’m happy to let her keep it. If she wants it.
Laurel’s fingers release me, but her hand slides to my side. As soon as her fingertips brush against my skin, though, she jerks her hand away and breaks the kiss. Barely breathing, it seems, she stares at me. I stare back, unable to decipher what spooked her.
A silent, crackling heartbeat passes, then another, then Laurel’s expression twists with pain.
