Ann Aguirre - Mortal Danger

“Then I guess that’s it.”

“Yeah. I won’t contact you until the summer program ends.”

“You better come then.” I tried for a playful tone. “You’re my ride home.”

“I’ll never let you down when you need me, Edie.” His tone seemed so somber for a sunny summer day, as if he saw dark things in the distance and me in the center of them.

“Then there’s one more thing before you go.” I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but the words wouldn’t stop. They came from a place of complete certainty.

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

I didn’t give a shit about rules. A girl only got one first, and I suspected it wouldn’t take me long to find somebody who wanted to be the one. But I deserved more than that for my first kiss. It had to be Kian—who said he liked me before—even though he wasn’t allowed to. I was willing to accept that it couldn’t go past this point.

“That’s a really bad idea,” he whispered.

“If you don’t want to…”

In answer, he stepped closer so I could smell his soap, just touch of citrus, and the warm, sunshiny scent of his skin. He dizzied me. Kian tangled his fingers in my hair and drew me to him with just enough hesitation to make me think he was nervous. That helped on my end, though I still couldn’t breathe right. His other hand rested on my hip. I didn’t know where to put my arms, if I should press close, stand super still, or— Oh God. It’s a good thing I asked him to do this.

I’d make a fool of myself with anyone else.

“Eyes shut,” he breathed in my ear.

I closed them and turned my face up. A trill of pleasure radiated wherever he touched me. Then Kian brushed his lips against mine, and the world stopped.

For this moment, I only knew his heat, his heartbeat. His mouth tasted sweet and lush, like chai tea and cinnamon, and I rose up against him on my tiptoes to sink my hands into his layered hair. This wasn’t a perfunctory kiss—no, it was so much more. He caught me against him, and I lost track everything but Kian. His hands burned through the thin cotton of my tee, roaming my back. For someone who had never been kissed, this was like learning to swim by being thrown off a boat into the ocean.

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. His nearness reacted on me like a drug, and I clung, wanting only more. Forever, more. Eventually, I registered the hooting behind us in the quad. Fierce heat flashed into my cheeks as I pulled back.

“Something to remember me by.” His tone carried a low and lovely ache, as if those moments meant something to him, as if he worried about me forgetting him.

Like that could ever happen.

“ I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Okay. What time?”

“Let’s say eight, West Coast time.”

I nodded. “Thanks for everything.”

His jade gaze swept me from head to toe, as if committing me to memory. Then he stepped back. The leafy foliage hid his vanishing act, but the air crackled after he went, like charged wind after a storm.

I ached for him already.

Going forward, I’d control everything this summer, taking charge of my life just like I had by asking Kian for my first kiss. That resolve made me feel better about being thrown into a college credit program with minimal preparation.

You can do this.

As I strolled toward the red-and-white registration banner, a girl fell into step beside me. She seemed … nervous, gnawing at her lip with oversize front teeth. Her mouth was chapped; her hair was dull and needed trimming. And before this morning, she would’ve considered herself too cool to be seen with me. At least that was my experience; even loners and outcasts preferred not to risk my social contagion because hanging out with me wasn’t worth the potential grief from the Teflon crew. But maybe my Blackbriar experience wouldn’t repeat here; there was no way this girl could know I had been a pariah.

“Was that your boyfriend?” she ventured, as if I might slap her for speaking to me.

At Blackbriar, this would be a nonstarter, a definite faux pas. People who looked like me did not hang out with those who looked like her. But here at the science program, that didn’t matter—and I would never crush someone like they had me.

“Nah. Just a guy.” That seemed like the kind of thing the new Edie would say.

One who saved my life.

Who liked me before.

“Really?”

“We haven’t known each other that long.” Surprising and true.

The other girl’s eyes widened at that revelation. “But you were kissing.”

Somehow I managed a shrug. “I was curious.”

My companion didn’t know what to say to that, clearly. “Wow.”

“Are you part of the science program?” I figured it was better to change the subject because there were so few things I could reasonably say about Kian. Hell, I didn’t even know his last name.

“Yeah. I guess you go to school here?”

I shook my head. “I’m heading over to registration myself.”

“I never would’ve guessed.” She wore a near-comical expression of disbelief, and if I’d been born with this version of my face, along with my brain, I’d find her incredulity offensive. It must suck for smart, pretty girls not to be taken seriously.

“Why?” I dared her to say it out loud.

“Y-you just don’t look like the type,” she stammered.

Sympathy washed over me. Hours before, I’d been living this girl’s life. Worse , most likely. “Yeah, well. Looks can be deceiving. I’m Edie.”

Belatedly, I realized I hadn’t stuttered once. Apparently the behavioral psychologist had been right; I had a psychogenic stutter, exacerbated by stress, mental anguish, and anxiety. Right then, I felt no fear of ridicule, and it was easy to talk.

“Viola. Vi,” she amended quickly.

I guessed she didn’t want to be known here as the girl whose parents named her after the cross-dresser in Twelfth Night . She’d probably be surprised I knew that. I’d seen every film version ever produced, though, including the one with Amanda Bynes and Channing Tatum. That was the last movie of hers I loved.

“Did you come a long way?” I asked.

“I’m from Ohio, so yeah.” She went on, “It’s cool that I met someone nice my first day. I was a little worried about coming by myself. None of my friends got in.”

At least you have some, I thought.

I got in line behind a guy who couldn’t stop playing with his smartphone. Everyone at Blackbriar had them, but my cell was cheap and primitive, just so I could text my parents. Though they never said so, they couldn’t see the point of buying me an expensive phone when I had nobody else to call.

Vi stood behind me, fidgeting until I turned around, aiming a look at her. She flushed. “Sorry. I’m just nervous about meeting so many new people.”

“Me too.” I just wasn’t showing it at the moment.

“Really? You seem so confident.”

Because I’d never see her after this summer, I could be honest. “It’s a front.”

The line moved pretty fast. There were five people helping out, and they’d divided up the alphabet. I went over to the guy in charge of the K s, beckoning Viola to follow me. He was probably a volunteer from the university. His brown hair held a red tinge, and he had a million freckles.

“Name?” he asked.

“Edie Kramer.” There was no way Kian would’ve registered me under a name I hated.

He drew his finger down the list. “Ah, here you are. Wow, you’re lucky.”

“I am?”

“Yep, you slid right in under the wire. We had a last-minute cancellation.”