Lani saunters over to our table and sits on Gregg’s knee. She throws her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek with all the intention of a branding iron.
Lizzie clears her throat, kicks my leg. Awkward.
“What are you kids talking about?” Lani asks.
Gregg shoots me the briefest look and there’s something distant there. It’s too quick to identify fully. “I’ve got strict instructions from my mother to make sure Zeph is coming to Anna’s wedding.”
“Is she bringing Alec?” Lani asks Gregg, even though I’m sitting right here.
Gregg drapes that dark look on me again. A dare? “I doubt it. She’s coming with her mom. They’re family friends.”
Only then does Lani drop a condescending pucker my way. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a swell time with your mom, Zephyr.”
“Are you going?” I ask her.
Something uncomfortable exchanges between her and Gregg and she shifts off his lap. “Come on, let’s go sit at our table.” I interpret her nonanswer as a no.
Gregg rights his chair and tucks it under the lip of our table. A bolt of shock ripples through me when Gregg bends to my ear, so close. So unexpected.
“How am I doing?” His whisper almost disappears before reaching me.
“With what?”
The faintest response. “Acting like I’m over you.”
A small metal marble pinballs within my chest, banging and clanging against all the routes inside of me. Setting off bells.
When Gregg stands, he bumps right into Alec.
They exchange the requisite jock fist bump and I see Lani staring at me. Like she’s seeing me for the first time. Then she pulls Gregg away and Alec lifts me from my chair. He kisses me so hard he thrusts me against the windowed walls of the cafeteria. He presses me there, his body fusing into mine. I can’t slip breath into the space between us, his hands locking my hips in the puzzle of his.
I raise my hands to his chest, try to push him back. But he kisses me harder and there is a slip of time before I hear the chanting, the swell of cheers for me and Alec to Do It, Do It, Do It. I pull my lips from Alec’s and shove hard against him. The caf lets out a collective, disgruntled Boo! At our table, Lizzie’s trying to keep her jaw attached to her skull, but then there’s Gregg, watching. Except it is not Gregg. He has morphed into a boy built of smoke and fire.
“What was that?” I ask Alec.
He blushes, leans into me. “Um . . . a kiss.”
My voice hushes with not wanting the entire G block lunch crowd to hear my frustration. “Was that totally necessary? Here?”
Alec steps back, searches my eyes. “You never had a problem with me kissing you before.”
“Yeah, well. You’ve never used a kiss to basically claim me in front of the entire school.”
Alec’s face falls wounded and I see his insecurities. How he saw me with Gregg. A trigger for his own self-doubt. I reach for his hand but he shrugs me off. “I’ll give you your space.”
“Alec, don’t.”
But he is already turned away, heading toward the door.
“Damn,” Lizzie says when I return to the table.
“The kiss?”
“No. The boys.” She nods to the door where Alec’s exiting and then back at Gregg’s table. “You know you’ve got a problem there, right?”
I do. But it’s not the one I thought I had.
• • •
I run through the woods, past the park, down the side streets of Sudbury where quiet families live in quieter homes. All the while, I’m chased by this new, darker version of Alec. The one who marked me with his mouth, his hands. For everyone to see. It is impossible to outrun him. And even harder to escape Gregg’s words. Or the wild look he aimed at me.
It is late by the time I return home and so dark that the slice of moon is already pinned to dusk’s canvas. The bright windows of our house beacon like a lighthouse and wash away the fog of boy haunting. My body cools as I walk the driveway. I walk past the mailbox without opening it and my thoughts calm under the weight of physical fatigue.
Inside, Mom has an entire bag of potting soil dumped onto the kitchen island. “Everyone’s getting new nutrients.” Her gardening version of hello. I know this potter’s musical chairs. Plants in small pots get moved to bigger pots. Their roots find room to spread and grow. Tender shoots get rooted into the tiny pots and we end up with more green in the house, more oxygen in the air.
“Lucky them.” I grab a water and she turns to kiss me, her dirt-stained hands never leaving their station.
“How was school?”
“Good,” I lie. “I’m gonna shower.”