Page 28 of Kiss Collector
While Kenzie and Lin jump up to talk to Kyle, and Monica runs to the restroom, the chair next to me pulls out and my heart leaps as Dean Prescott slides into it. Dean! He rests his big linebacker forearms on the table, turning his gaze to me.
“Big weekend, huh?”
My mind immediately goes to the new apartment. “Yeah. Sucks.”
His eyebrows pinch with confusion and I want to kick myself. He has no idea about my moving. That means he’d heard about the stupid kiss with Rex. Crap.
“Oh,” I say. “No. That was...”
Man, it’s hot all of a sudden. His eyebrows lift, as if he’s waiting.
I let out a nervous laugh. “Nothing.”
“Yeah.” He sits back in the chair now and the plastic groans. “Probably not best to rebound with that dude.”
“I’m not. I’m really not. I don’t even like him.”
Once again his eyebrows go up, and his lips purse like he doesn’t believe me.
“I don’t! I swear.”
He laughs and reaches out to tug a curl of my brown hair. “Just be careful.”
I open my mouth to argue as Monica returns and sits down, facing him. “Dean! Hey, boy.”
“Hey, girl.” He’s grinning at her the way boys can’t help but grin at Monica. A twinge of jealousy jabs my gut at how easily Monica was able to shift his attention. She’s the total package with her high cheekbones, curvy body, and commercial-worthy hair. All my friends have appeal. Lin’s got an hourglass shape with a tiny waist, plus a soft, triangular face. Kenzie’s super cute with nice, full lips and even has a dimple. My friends claim to envy my long legs and brown eyes with flecks of light gold. I feel pretty when my natural curls are on point, but I guess everyone’s their worst critic.
“What are y’all up to for spring break?” he asks.
“If there’s a party, we’re there,” I tell him. “Know of any?”
He pushes his phone toward me. “Gimme your number and I’ll hit you up if I hear anything.”
A thrill shoots through me as I pick up his big phone in its rugged case, so much heavier than mine. I smile at his Washington Redskins wallpaper. My family are huge fans. We watch all their games together. Or... we used to. My smile falls.
“Go, ’Skins,” I say as I program my number in and slide the phone back.
“That’s right.” He grins and stands, giving Monica a nod, then leaves us to join two other guys from the football team at the counter.
“God, I haven’t talked to him in forever,” Monica says.
“I really hope he texts me,” I whisper.
Her eyes light up. “Ooh, he’s totally kissable.”
“He’s mine.” I’m trying to joke, but it feels like it comesacross territorial, especially when she gives me that teasing look.
“I thought you said we could share?”
I shrug, looking over at him, laughing with his friends in line.
“Oh,” she says. “Youlikehim?”
“No.” I’m never going to like a boy again. But then a lingering thought slips out... “I mean, if he’s the one writing the poetry, then... I don’t know.” Ugh, I shouldn’t have said that. Yes, Dean seems like a nice guy, but he’s got the Y chromosome, so he would eventually hurt me like any other boy. God, that is so depressing.
Monica’s eyebrows shoot up. “I forgot about that! Do you think it’s him?”
“I have no idea,” I say honestly. “Maybe?”
