Dark Kiss. Michelle Rowen
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of me and walked away.
Kid?
Time slowed to a crawl as he disappeared down the stairs, the dance music becoming a hollow echo in my ears. My face burned even though my chest now felt like ice.
The scent of sweat mixed with perfume slowly pulled me out of my daze. To my left I could see the multicolored lights above the dance floor. Even up here, the ground shook with the force of all the kids stomping down there.
Carly appeared at the top of the stairs and approached me, glancing back in the direction Stephen had gone. “Sam! What happened?”
I tried to find my voice. “Stephen Keyes kissed me.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God! You’re so lucky!”
He’d kissed me. And then he’d called me a kid and walked away.
“Lucky,” I repeated, just before my eyes rolled back, my knees gave out and everything went black.
chapter 2
In my dream, something moved beneath me, twisting around my ankles like long, cold fingers. I didn’t know what it was, but the thought of being dragged down into the black, bottomless hole terrified me. Before it took hold of me completely, someone grabbed my hand.
Frantically I looked up to see a boy. I couldn’t see him very well since it was so dark, but he was definitely not Stephen.
“Hold on!” His eyes were blue—so blue that they seemed to glow. He was the only thing keeping me from whatever was trying to pull me downward.
I tried to concentrate on his face but still couldn’t see him clearly—only his eyes, which burned into me with their strange light.
“They were wrong, Samantha.” His voice broke as he said my name. “It never should have been me. This is the proof.”
“What?”
“I’m not strong enough for this.” His grip on me loosened. “I’ve failed you. I’ve failed everyone. It—it’s all over.”
“No—don’t let go! Don’t let—”
The next moment, I slipped out of his grasp and fell, screaming, into the bottomless darkness.
“Sam! Wake up!” Carly sounded a million miles away.
My eyelids fluttered open and it took a moment for everything to come into focus. I lay on a red couch on my back and I was staring up at my best friend.
She punched me in the shoulder.
“Don’t do that!” Her thin brows drew together. “You just freaked me out! Did you eat today? I have a Snickers bar in my purse if you need it.”
“No … I’m okay.” I sat up and ran a hand through my hair, forcing my way through a tangle. “What happened?”
“Stephen Keyes kissed you and then you totally passed out for a minute—not that I blame you. That must have been some kiss. Are you really okay?”
How embarrassing. After being kissed by the hottest guy in Trinity, I’d passed out right in front of everyone up here. Several of the other kids had drawn closer to get a look at me. “I was only out for a minute?”
“Yeah. Any longer and I would have called for help.” Her cell phone was in her hand, its screen lit up as if she’d been about to make a distress call. She looked over her shoulder at the others gathered nearby. “She’s okay now. Back off and give her some air.”
They did, their curiosity about the girl who fainted leaving as quickly as it had arrived.
I watched them go back to their couches and chairs, talking amongst themselves. Then I scanned the rest of the lounge with growing dismay at the idea that I’d fainted. I never fainted. “Did Stephen see what happened?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t think so. He took off. What did you two talk about?”
Our short conversation was now a blur. “Nothing, really. I don’t even know why he wanted to talk to me in the first place. He brought me up here, said I was special or something and then he kissed me.”
Her worried look shifted to one of happiness. “So awesome.”
I cringed. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Stephen Keyes kisses you, you swoon like some girl in an old movie and you’re trying to tell me it’s not a big deal?”
“If it was that big of a deal, he wouldn’t have just walked away.” I wasn’t going to let myself be too disappointed by that, but my throat felt thick and my eyes burned. He’d even apologized. Maybe he was sorry that he didn’t find me very interesting or attractive, or maybe he was sorry that I was a lousy kisser. He had said that I was too young.
And that dream I’d had about falling and the guy with the amazing blue eyes—that had been seriously disturbing.
“Can we go?” I asked. “Sorry, I—I’m not feeling so hot.”
Actually I was feeling cold as ice.
She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then closed it, her expression growing worried again. “You don’t look so good. Yeah, we can definitely go.”
“Thanks.”
“Stupid Stephen Keyes. Who needs him?”
Frankly, I wanted to put the entire experience out of my head. Following the wickedly sexy boy off to be kissed hadn’t led to danger; it had led only to the familiar feelings of disappointment and embarrassment. Stephen was the third boy I’d liked who’d made me feel bad about myself. Three strikes. I was out.
If I looked at it objectively, maybe this was a good lesson to learn. I didn’t need any more trouble in my life.
I didn’t leave my house all day Saturday or most of Sunday and I slept in past noon all weekend. It was highly unlike me to stay in bed so long. I figured I was coming down with the flu. That could explain the passing out and my recent chills.
Late Sunday afternoon, however, I forced myself to go to the movies with Carly. Even though it was only mid-October and the temperature read fifty-five degrees, it felt like it was freezing outside. Carly picked me up in her red Volkswagen Beetle—a gift from her parents for her birthday last month. My dad was generous with my presents and weekly allowance, especially since my parents had split two years ago and he’d moved to England for his law firm, but a few gifts and some cash weren’t nearly the same as getting a car.
We paid good money to see Zombie Queen IV, which turned out to be possibly the worst movie in the history of mankind. As a self-proclaimed horror movie aficionado—with a deep fondness for all things George A. Romero—it took a lot to impress me.
“I’m so hungry,” I said as we exited the theater while the credits rolled over the bloody, severed head of the hero. Even after gobbling down a large popcorn with extra butter, I was famished. It was strange. I’d pigged out all weekend. I didn’t normally have such a voracious appetite.
“Maybe you’re pregnant,” Carly joked.
I eyed her. “Highly doubtful.”
“I guess you’re right. To be pregnant you’d have to actually be getting it on with somebody.”
“Getting it on?” I repeated. “What a lovely way to put it.
Besides, I’m starving, remember? Doesn’t pregnancy make you want to throw up?”
“It would make me want to throw up. Actually, I feel sick just thinking about it.”
Carly hadn’t brought up what had happened—or, rather, not happened—with Stephen at the club. It was appreciated more than she knew. If I could, I’d take a pill to forget about the embarrassment of him walking away after our kiss and