Page 35 of Wallflower

"It was very nice," I said, "but not really important."

Mentally, I scoffed at that.

As if my first kiss was something insignificant.

And nice?

Lies, all lies.

But for a good purpose as I doubted very much that my parents wanted to hear about my kissing escapades. Honestly, the memory kept making me lose focus. After school, I'd went to work at the shelter where I was struck by images: Dare just before he'd kissed me, his eyes soft and his face so very close. (Kibble had gone everywhere as I overfilled the food bowls. The animals were happy though.) The feel of Dare as he'd kissed me…and after, when he'd looked more than a little stunned and then bolted. I'd spilled the beans to Hermione, of course. She was such a great listener and companion. She'd even given me understanding eyes and licked my hand when I'd been all frazzled about the kiss. Why someone hadn't adopted her yet, I'd never understand.

"You're doing it again," Dad pointed out.

"I was just thinking about one of the dogs at the shelter," I said. "Hermione's so wonderful, but she's been there a while. I'm just surprised nobody's snapped her up—though I'll probably be devastated if she ever is adopted."

"Ah," Mom said, "I know that must be hard on you, Viola. You've always been the type to get attached, wear your heart on your sleeve. And you even get to name them—wonderful choice by the way. Loving the animals and then having to let them go can't be easy."

I nodded. "It's not. But I care enough about them to want all of the animals to find homes."

"I could ask the people at work if they need a pet," Dad said with a wink. "Might even be able to get the news to cover the shelter. There's a guy who owes me a favor."

The effect was instant. My eyes narrowed on the word "favor," and though he was still my favorite muggle, I couldn't forget what he'd done. My thirst for payback was still unquenched. I had to do something.

"Yeah, that would be great," I said while mentally planning my revenge. Before I could get too far, however, Dad interrupted me again.

"Hey, I meant to tell you. I saw you at practice today," he said.

I swallowed, instantly alert. "Did you?"

"Sure did," Dad smiled. "Though at first, I thought I was hallucinating. You never come out to the field."

"What were you doing there?" Mom asked.

Dare's slow smile face flashed in my mind, but I pushed it away.

"Nothing much," I said, trying and failing not to think of the kiss.

"I was going to come talk to you," Dad added, "but got held up by one of the assistant coaches. You were already gone by the time I got out there."

The breath that left me was pure relief.

"Oh, sorry," I said. "Dare asked for a ride home—though he ended up getting a lift from someone else."

"Well, that's odd," Mom said.

I totally agreed.

"It's too bad you had to sit through practice." Mom waggled her eyebrows. "But did you at least get to ogle some cute, sweaty guys? I've always said that's the best part of soccer."

I blushed, thinking back to how good Dare had looked on the field.

Before I could answer, Dad grinned. "Yeah, right," he said. "Viola would never do that."

"Do what?" Mom said.

"Check out my players."

Of course I would, I thought. A girl's only got so much self-control—or at least this girl did. Mom was right. The only part I'd enjoyed about being out there had been seeing the team (and okay, mostly Dare) looking so fine.

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