Page 6 of The Kissing Booth
Lee laughed and headed inside. ‘See you later,’ he called over his shoulder.
‘Bye!’
Nobody was home when I got in, but I wasn’t that surprised. My younger brother, Brad, had a soccer tournament today and Dad had probably taken him out for burgers or something after.
I put my iPod into my speakers and let Ke$ha blast out loudly, so that I’d hear it from the shower with the water roaring in my ears.
When I stood in my towel, scrutinizing the dress, doubts about it started creeping into my mind. I’d grown up with Lee, and without a mom, so I wasn’t the biggest girly-girl; but that didn’t stop me from dressing up for things like this. I shook my head and berated myself. The dress was way longer than some of the girls’schoolskirts, for Pete’s sake. It was fine.
So I sat at my dresser, make-up in front of me, my curling iron heating up. I carefully blended foundation over my skin, and perfected my eyeliner to make my brown eyes pop. I took my time to make sure my hair, shiny and coconut-scented after my shower, was cascading down my back in perfect coal-black ringlets.
I felt more than a little self-conscious when I looked at myself in the dress – along with a pair of black wedges with two-inch heels. I knew there would be girls who had their make-up way over the top, dresses way shorter than mine, and heels much higher than mine. But I wavered, wondering if I really did look okay.
But by then it was suddenly thirteen minutes past eight. Where had my two hours gone?
I tore my phone out of its charger, seeing a text from Lee asking where I was.
I walked cautiously around to his house. My heels weren’t high, but I always felt more comfortable in flats.
There were people milling around the yard, and the front door was open, letting the bass spill out; it made the grass tremble. I smiled and greeted people on my way through to the kitchen to get myself a drink.
I was looking through the refrigerator, unsurprised that they’d moved all the food out to make space for the drinks people had brought. Lee and Noah tended to do that, after some kids thought it’d be funny to stick slices of ham and turkey to the walls with condiments a few months back.
I grabbed a bottle of orange soda and cracked it open on the kitchen worktop, a trick Lee’s dad had shown me.
‘Hey, Elle!’
I turned and saw a group of girls waving me over. I smiled to them.
‘Hi, guys.’
‘Olivia said you and Lee are doing a kissing booth for the carnival,’ said Georgia. ‘That’s so cool!’
‘Thanks.’ I grinned.
‘Nobody’s done one of those for years,’ said Faith. ‘It’s such an awesome idea!’
‘Well, we are prettyawesomepeople.’
They laughed. ‘I will most definitely be stopping by that booth,’ Candice said with a sly smile. ‘I heard Jon Fletcher’s doing it.’
‘And Dave Peterson,’ Georgia added.
‘Jon’s doing it?’ I asked.
‘That’s what Dave said.’ Candice shrugged.
Faith laughed. ‘It’s your booth, Elle – you should know.’
I smiled sheepishly. ‘Yeah, well...’
‘Hey, you know who you should’ve got to do it?’ Olivia told me. ‘Flynn.’
For a brief moment I wondered who the hell she was talking about. Then I realized she meant Noah, of course.
‘I don’t think he’d do it.’
‘Well, did you ask?’
