Kiss and Tell(22)

He turned away.

Tenley sank onto a white leather barstool in the kitchen, tears pricking at her eyes. She knew she should be out there, searching for the darer, but suddenly she couldn’t muster the energy. As much as she despised their stalker, what if he or she had been right all along? What if her whole life was nothing more than a game?

For years she’d held her cards close to her chest. She’d waited her turn and planned out her strategy, and then gone in for the win. But she didn’t want to play anymore. She just wanted Tim. Class-cutting, cold-weather-surfing, hemp-wearing, hairbrush-lacking Tim.

She slid off the stool, feeling jittery all over. The darer could wait. This couldn’t.

She squared her shoulders as she stalked to the dining room, but her insides liquefied with every step. She stopped next to the table and cleared her throat. All three boys turned to look at her, but it was Tim’s gaze she felt, warming her skin. “Can we talk for a minute?” she asked him.

The pause that followed felt like an eternity. In the ensuing silence, Tenley could feel her pulse throbbing in her neck. “You guys mind?” Tim asked his friends gruffly. He was wearing a dark blue sweater that matched his eyes, and Tenley was filled with the urge to press herself against it.

“Go.” Sam waved him on. “We need more beer anyway.”

Tenley’s heart beat in time with her footsteps as she and Tim wound through the crowd, looking for a place to talk. “This way,” Tenley suggested. A long hallway led away from the party, toward the back of the house. An Oriental rug carpeted the floor, and gilded framed paintings lined the walls. The hallway emerged into an empty entertainment room. Tenley went over to the couch, and Tim followed. His leg brushed against hers as they sat down, sending a tingle up her spine.

“I have something I want to say,” she told him. “And I don’t want you to interrupt until I’m finished. Understood?”

Tim nodded. His wavy blond hair was flattened against his head, as if he’d recently taken off a hat. He’d replaced his broken hemp necklace with a new one, and it looked too perfect on him, as if it needed to be dunked in the ocean several dozen times. He reached up now to fiddle with it, waiting for her to speak.

She swallowed hard. No more games.

“What I did to Jessie… do you know I didn’t even regret it at first? I’ve done things like that my whole life, Tim. Selfish, scheming things. I was so used to it that I didn’t feel it, you know? What it did to other people.” She fidgeted with the zipper on her red moto jacket. She hadn’t planned this speech, but the words kept coming, more honest than anything she’d said in a long time. What she’d done to Jessie—and Calum and Tricia and Joey and so many others—she couldn’t blame that on a dare. She’d made the choices herself.

“Caitlin was the only one who knew how to save me from myself,” she continued. “She was my conscience, I guess. But she’s gone now and I don’t want to be this person anymore.” Her voice broke, but she kept going. “I’m different with you, Tim. Better.” She put her hand on his knee, and he didn’t pull away. His eyes met hers, and they reminded her a little of Caitlin, how kind they were. “I’ve played games for long enough. I just—I can’t do it anymore.” She paused. “I want to be with you, Tim. I want to make this work.”

He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face: tiny gusts of warm air. He smelled like sunscreen and ocean. “You done?” His voice was low and husky. It made something flare to life in her chest. She couldn’t wait any longer.

She answered by kissing him. For one long, horrible second, he resisted. Then his hand was in her hair and he was kissing her back.

His lips brushed her neck as he lowered her back on the couch, and she could feel herself getting lost in his touch. The party and even her thoughts receded, until there was only Tim. The way he touched her hair and slid his mouth down her collarbone. The weight of him on top of her, warm and solid. His breath in her ear and her hands under his sweater, skimming the taut skin beneath. She wanted to stay there forever, tucked safely together, where nothing else could touch her. “You keep surprising me, Tenley,” Tim whispered, and she kissed him harder, until there was no couch, no air, no party. Just them.

The lights in the room shut off.

Tim pulled back. “What the hell?” he murmured.

It was pitch-black. Tenley couldn’t see a thing. Blood rushed to her head, a deafening sound. It all returned at once: Someone out there wanted her dead.

Tim was too heavy. She pushed him away and scrambled off the couch, bumping unsteadily into a table. “Tenley?” She could see Tim’s outline in the darkness, rising from the couch. “What’s wrong?”

Before Tenley could reply, the lights switched back on.

“Is someone back here?” Calum emerged in the doorway. “Oh! Sorry.” Calum’s eyes widened as they flitted from Tenley to Tim. Tenley let out a shaky breath. It was just Calum.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a sound rose from her purse. A sharp, shrill beep.

Tenley barely registered reaching for her phone. But suddenly it was in her hands, a new text open on its screen.

Stealing your dead BFF’s boy? Tsk, tsk, Ten. Let your punishment begin.

Tenley’s heart was pounding as she quickly deleted the text. She tried to focus on what Calum was saying. “… didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t realize a party would turn the back of my house into make-out central. I found a couple in the sunroom, too, and another one in the basement, even though I expressly forbade it.”

“I…” She meant to apologize, but her head was spinning too fast to formulate words. The darer must have seen her go off with Tim. Which meant that whoever it was, was either at the party or spying on it.

“You okay, Ten?” Tim came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

This was what she’d wanted: to lure her tormentor out of hiding. But now here she was, without Emerson to back her, without Sydney to even acknowledge her, and she suddenly felt very, very alone. Her legs quivered, and she pressed her weight against Tim.

“I’m not feeling great all of a sudden.” She looked up. Tim’s dark blue eyes were narrowed in concern.

“Maybe it’s the beer,” Calum offered. “It’s making me feel a little nauseated as well.”

“You do look pale,” Tim told her. “Do you want to go home?”

Tenley glanced back down at her phone, which was still clutched tightly in her fist. She should go back out to the party. She should do whatever it took to find this darer.

Let your punishment begin.

“Yes,” she heard herself whisper. “I want to go home.”




The morning sun probed at Tenley through a crack in her curtains, streaking light across her eyelids. She buried her face in her pillow, but it wasn’t the sun that kept her from falling back to sleep. It was the memory of last night’s text. Even after she left the party, she couldn’t escape the feeling of being watched. It followed her as Tim walked her to her car. It followed her on the drive and all the way to her bedroom and kept her tossing and turning through the night. She felt like a little kid again, terrified of the monster in her closet. Except this time, the monster was real.

She gave up on sleep and dragged herself out of bed with a groan. She switched on the TV as she got dressed. Maya Louis, Miss-Massachusetts-turned-North-Shore-weather-woman, was standing in front of a digital map wearing knee-high boots and a short, pleated skirt. “I hope you’ve all enjoyed this final bit of calm weather,” she was saying. “Because it’s time to start gearing up for Octo-storm. The full mass of the blizzard isn’t anticipated until Wednesday, but in the meantime, expect high winds and light snowfall.”

Tenley reached for her phone as images of last November’s blizzard flashed across the screen. Anything? she texted Emerson. She’d called Emerson as soon as she got home last night to tell her about the text. Emerson, on the other hand, hadn’t heard anything from the darer in days.

Emerson’s response came quickly. Radio silence.

Tenley stuck her phone in her pocket and headed downstairs. The house was eerily quiet.

Sahara had the morning off, and her mom and Lanson had finally been cleared to visit Guinness—parents only. Tenley blasted music as she ate breakfast, trying to fill the void. But when the wind beat a sudden pattern against the roof, she jumped so high she nearly fell out of her seat. Maya the weather woman was right: Octo-storm was gearing up.

She grabbed her phone. Want to meet up to strategize? she texted Emerson.

Finishing up English paper, Emerson replied. Call u after.

She tried Tim next. Sorry, Ten, he texted back. Waves too crazy to miss today.

Nervous energy flooded through Tenley. She used to love being home alone, but suddenly every noise seemed like an invasion. Another blast of wind rattled the shutters, making her pulse race. That was it. She had to get out of there.

Tenley hurried to her car and started on a route at random. Emerson still hadn’t found anything useful online about a purple door, but maybe the best way to find it was just to drive around town and look. It was worth a shot; right now that door—and Delancey’s key—was their best bet at solving this mystery.