26 Kisses (15 page)

i just found out that gabriel latimore is going to be at your stepmom’s party tonight!!!

I sigh and rifle through the clothes hanging in my closet one more time, hoping I’ll find a dress or a skirt I had forgotten about, something that would be at least slightly more interesting than my usual conservative, Old Navy-esque style. Mel and I never got a chance to discuss our wardrobe options for the party. Maybe it’s for the best, though. I’m sure Dad wouldn’t appreciate me showing up to his and Lila’s big event, wearing anything that might hint at me having a life outside my family.

I don’t respond to the text, but Mel is insistent. My phone dings again.

and he just broke up with ashley.

that’s great,
I text back.
but i’m still on f.
And I went on something that might qualify as a semi-date with Killian, and I kind of liked it. Even though I’m afraid to text him and admit it.

I turn back to my closet, finally picking out a navy blue dress. It’s tight and daringly short, but it has long sleeves. Hopefully Dad will only notice my upper half.

that’s okay. we’ll find an f for you, and then you can move on to gabriel.

I sigh and strip off my shorts and tank top, wriggling into the dress. Gabriel and I have always gotten along—he’s someone I say hi to in the halls and will partner with on group projects in class. I’ve known him practically my whole life and never once considered the possibility of kissing him. But he’s cute and nice and, assuming Mel can wrangle me a guy named Finn or Fletcher to start off the night, I suppose it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to kiss Gabriel Latimore.

“This place isn’t real.”

I didn’t think I was capable of being impressed anymore. My dad’s house is enormous, on the beach, and has always looked like it could pop out of a magazine. But tonight the trees sparkle with a million fairy lights, and there are airy white cabanas set up all over the backyard. Waiters in crisp black suits glide between groups of guests passing off tiny hors d’oeuvres, and a jazz trio is set up on a small stage, the rich notes of a saxophone drifting across the grass.

“So, is Taylor Swift also going to be at this party?” Mel asks me as we trip up the flagstone path in our heels. “Because this totally looks like her scene.”

“Shhh.” I stumble and grab her arm. “Please do not let my dad hear you say anything like that. I’m sure he’s really loving how fabulously wealthy and sophisticated throwing this thing makes him look.”

Mel and I walk under a wrought-iron arch dripping with roses and stop for a moment, admiring the view. It’s immediately obvious we’re out of our league here, although Mel, at least, looks gorgeous. Her hair is pinned on top of her head, and she’s wearing a long, flowing skirt and a coral camisole underneath a fitted black jacket. She went heavy on the eye makeup, dramatic swoops of thick black eyeliner and a bright pop of eye shadow luminous against her golden skin. In comparison, I look like a fifth-grader on school picture day, with my long-sleeved dress and low heels. But we’re both outclassed by nearly everyone we pass as we make our way toward the towering buffet table. My eyes bounce from diamond bracelets to flowing hair extensions to killer manicures and back to more diamonds. My dad and Lila are nowhere in sight.

“I don’t know any of these people,” I say, loading up a china plate with cocktail shrimp, mini quiches, and as many little cheesecake squares as I can squeeze onto its surface. “And I don’t want to spend all night asking around to find someone whose name starts with
F
.” I scan the crowd, which is mostly made up of middle-aged men in suits. “We need to say hi to my dad to prove we showed up, get these kisses, and get out of here before I break something totally expensive and irreplaceable.”

“Relax,” Mel says, plucking two glasses of champagne from a tray offered by a smiling waiter. “Part of this Twenty-Six Kisses thing is the journey, not just the destination.” She sets our drinks on a tall bar table and grabs a shrimp off my plate. “And so far,” she says, “the journey is delicious. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” I say, grudgingly clinking my glass against hers.

Jeffrey wanders over to us, leading Kaylee by the hand. She looks totally adorable in a little white dress, her hair braided and tied back with a flowered headband.

“Here.” Jeffrey unceremoniously passes Kaylee’s hand to me. “You can watch her for a little while.”

“Jeffrey!” I pick Kaylee up, settling her on my hip, and she inspects the food on my plate. “You’re getting paid to babysit, aren’t you? Where are Dad and Lila?”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t know. Just give me two minutes to go get some food.” He slouches over to the buffet table, his shirt already coming untucked and his shoes untied.

“Hungry,” Kaylee says, reaching for my plate.

“Want one of these?” I offer her a mini quiche, and she scrunches up her nose and points at the fruit salad.

“Oh no,” Mel says, taking Kaylee from me. “You’re not allowed to get strawberry juice on your dress.” She hands Kaylee a grape and picks up my plate. “We’re going to sit down. You go scout around.”

Standing in the backyard of my dad’s mansion, I feel like a complete imposter. I don’t belong here, and neither do Mel or Jeffrey or Kaylee. I grab my champagne glass, just to have something to hold on to, and make my way to the periphery of the party, hoping I can forget about
F
, spot Gabriel Latimore, swoop in to kiss him on the cheek or something, and go home to watch Netflix in my pajamas.

“Vee!” Thin fingers dig into my shoulder, and I jump.

“Oh, hi, Lila.” She looks radiant, her hair in loose waves, a giant necklace sparkling above the plunging neckline of her dress. I wonder if my dad gave it to her, and think about the thin, battered gold wedding band my mom tucked away in her jewelry box the day she signed the divorce papers.

“Isn’t this such a wonderful party? Are you having fun?” She leans harder on me, champagne on her breath.

“Definitely,” I say. We watch a waiter, surrounded by a group of adults I don’t know, pop open a new bottle of champagne, the cork sailing off toward the beach. Everyone laughs as the bottle overflows, pushing their glasses forward to catch the foamy wine. “Are you having a good time seeing your work friends?”

Lila grips my shoulder tighter and leans in. Her pupils are dilated, her eyeliner slightly smudged. “I’m a little stressed,” she confesses. “All these people. I took a pill.”

“Oh.” I’ve seen pill bottles lined up in the master bedroom medicine cabinet. Lila obviously has some quirks, but I’ve never asked what her deal was. I’m about to ask her if she should be drinking with her medication, but she spots someone in the crowd and totters off to say hello.

Jeffrey is standing under a cabana, talking to a cute girl with extremely long brown hair who looks to be around his age. I come up behind him and sling my arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, bud. Aren’t you supposed to be on babysitting duty?”

Jeffrey pushes me away and levels me with a look of pure fury. “Okay, chill out. I’ll be right there.”

After a brief pause the girl holds out her hand. “Hi,” she says. “I’m Chaundre.” Her hair swings forward, and she tucks it back behind her ear.

“Veda,” I say, shaking her hand, which is so small, I feel like I could crush it with one good squeeze. “I’m Jeffrey’s sister.”

“Oh,” Chaundre says, her smile brightening. “Nice to meet you. Your dad has a beautiful house.”

“Chaundre lives next door,” Jeffrey says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I better go find my little sister,” he says to her. “See you later.”

Before she can respond, Jeffrey digs his shoulder into my arm and hustles me toward the table where Mel and Kaylee are gleefully dunking every food item imaginable into a chocolate fountain.

“So when did you meet
Chaundre
?” I ask. Jeffrey is only twelve, and he has always been such a guy—video games, skateboarding, farting contests with his friends. As far as I know, he has never even looked at a girl, much less struck up a conversation with one who looks like she fell off the
Game of Thrones
set. It’s dawning on me why Jeffrey has wanted to spend more time over at Dad and Lila’s lately. . . .

He pushes me away. “I don’t know. A couple of months ago when I was over here for the weekend.” He pulls out the chair next to Kaylee and flops into it. “Okay, I’m watching her. Now go away.”

“I just saw Gabriel Latimore over by the DJ,” Mel cuts in, dunking a pineapple slice into the chocolate fountain and placing it on Kaylee’s plate.

“Who is Gabriel Latimore?” Jeffrey asks, popping the pineapple into his mouth and batting his eyelashes at me. “Your new boyfriend?”

I shake my head in exasperation and grab Mel’s arm, pulling her up from the table. “This whole night is getting weird fast,” I murmur as I pull her away from Jeffrey and Kaylee. “Lila is zonked out on drugs, and Jeffrey was talking to some mysterious girl like they’re best friends.”

“Drugs?” Mel hurries along next to me. “Like,
drugs
drugs?”

“I don’t think so. More like medication drugs. But still.”

“Still.” She nods in agreement. “Are you going to tell your dad?”

I catch sight of Gabriel, who looks incredibly hipster-cute in suspenders and a bow tie, chatting with the DJ. I stop, turning my back to him. “I don’t know. She was acting so bizarre, he’s got to notice it himself.” I take a deep breath.

Mel waves her hand. “Not your problem right now. We need to find you an
F
, stat, before Gabriel leaves.”

“Well, what do you want to do? It’s not like people here are wearing name tags.”

“Follow me.” Mel grabs my arms and steers me toward a group of rich-looking adults.

“Mel, what are you doing? Those guys are old!”

She ignores me and keeps pulling me along. “Hello,” she says, interrupting the group’s conversation. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Melinda, and this is Veda, Lila’s stepdaughter.”

The group falls silent for a moment, and one older lady with green eye shadow raises her eyebrows slightly, but then everyone starts to fawn over me, asking what it’s like to be a big sister to Kaylee, and isn’t it wonderful that my dad and Lila found each other. We chat with Denise, Richard, Linda, Patty, and Jack for a few minutes before Mel elbows me in the side. If nothing else, this Twenty-Six Kisses thing is going to make me really good at remembering people’s names.

“So lovely to meet you,” I chirp in a voice I barely recognize as my own. We scurry away, scouting out the next group.

“Look, there’re six men all standing together over there,” Mel whispers. “Probably commenting on how everyone’s boobs look in their dresses. Let’s go.”

“This is going to take all night,” I say. “There has to be a faster way.”

“Well, unless you want to ask Lila who—”

A waiter hurries past us, champagne bottles in hand, and calls out to the bartender. “Hey, Frank, we’re going to need some more of these pretty quick.”

I’m striding across the lawn before Mel even has a chance to open her mouth, sneaking around behind the bar, which is stocked with every type of liquor you could imagine, bottles of wine and beer, and tubs full of cut lemons, limes, and oranges. I stay in a low crouch, and Frank backs into me as he turns to scoop ice into a glass. I let my mouth make contact with his suit jacket, which smells like fabric softener.

“What the hell?” he says, spinning around.

“Sorry!” I say, straightening up and hurrying away so I don’t have to come up with an excuse about why I was back there in the first place.

“I don’t know if that counts,” Mel says, a note of admiration in her voice. “You didn’t actually touch his skin.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re getting awfully technical. Where’s Gabriel? Let’s get this over with and get out of here.”

“Remember, you’re not allowed to tell him you’re doing a kissing challenge,” Mel says.

“I know, I know.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “God, this could get totally awkward. What’s going to happen when we go back to school in the fall?”

Mel grins. “Vee, don’t you know the code? What happens on summer vacation stays on summer vacation.”

“Yeah, but I can’t just walk up to him and smash my mouth onto him like I did with Frank the bartender.”

Mel narrows her eyes, thinking. “You’ve had some champagne,” she says finally. “You’re probably tipsy. You might be a little friendlier than usual.”

“What?” I stare at her for a moment before it finally clicks. “Oh!”

I look around for a waiter, but they all seem to have disappeared. I grab a half-f champagne glass off the nearest table and hesitate for only a moment before taking a swig, swishing the liquid around in my mouth to coat my teeth and tongue.

“Wow,” Mel says, raising her eyebrows. “I’m impressed. And a little grossed out.”

“Go big or go home,” I say, then run my hand through my hair, pull my dress to the side so one of my bra straps is visible, and half-close my eyes. “How do I look?”

“Trashed,” Mel says, grinning. “Go get ’em.”

It doesn’t take much to get someone to assume you’re drunk. A little stumble as you approach them, a quick hug when usually you would only wave, a sip from the champagne glass in your hand. I’m intending to smack a kiss on Gabriel’s cheek, but the hug is over nearly before it began, and I miss my chance.