Heartbreaker Hanson (22 page)

CHAPTER 2

I
make my hasty dash away from Hot Guy and grab angry Chad by the arm, leading
him in the opposite direction, though he wants to keep bulldozing towards Hot
Guy.

“No-oo,”
I say pulling him by the arm. “It’s not his fault.
I
kissed him. He doesn’t even know me.”

Chad
growls and looks up at the ceiling. “
Why
did you do that?”

“Because
you
kissed
Sonya.”

I
say it like ‘duh.’ Because well, Duh!

This
skanky cheerleader, Sonya, sent me a video of Chad making out with her. She
sent it to me this morning as Chad and I stood at his locker, snuggling like we
do.

Of
course the video made me
stop
snuggling, and practically start bawling. Watching it, I couldn’t breathe. I
felt like I’d been slugged in the stomach. But of course really, I’d been
stabbed in the back. (As the video proved.)

When
Chad saw the recording he smacked a hand over his forehead. “That didn’t go the
way it looks, Leah. I swear. You know Sonya and I have that whacked out drama
class together. We were videoing a scene for it. That’s it.”

“You
were totally making out with her,” I said through clenched teeth.

“For
the
scene.”

“You
can choose any scene, Chad. Why that one?”

“Because—because
Sonya chose it. She said to get the best grade we needed some heat.”

I
growled, “So you made out with her.”

“For
the scene!!”

He
said the words as I was grabbing my books from his locker.

“Where
are you going?” he asked, trying to stop me from leaving. He blocked my way,
trying to grab the books back—
my
books.

“I’m
going to my own locker,” I told him, trying my hardest to keep my voice from
hitching. “Sonya’s been trying to get her claws into you ever since you and I
got together.” I huffed, though tears were threatening to spill from my pooling
eyes, “—it looks like she finally succeeded.”

“Leah—”

“Get
out of my way,” I growled. Extremely loud. (Which is probably why he did it.)

He
shrunk back against his locker, getting out of my way. “Fine. Go cool off,” he
muttered.

“Cool
off?” I whipped back to him. “I’m totally cool. In fact, I’m chilled to the
bone—by that kiss. And your betrayal. And the fact we are now officially
broken up.”

“We
are not,” he said, like he vetoed that idea. “It wasn’t my fault Leah. Besides,
it was just a kiss.”

 
“Really?” I squinted at him. “
Just
a kiss? That’s what you
think? You think I’m going to ‘cool off’ and then I’ll see that it’s okay that
you kissed someone else? ‘Cause, hey, it was no big deal, right?—just
kissing
.”

Confusedly,
he nodded.

“We’re
so over,” I told him and marched to my locker with my stack of books.

Then
this hot new guy asked if I needed help and … you know the rest.

CHAPTER 3

First
period starts right as I stagger in the door. I collapse into the nearest seat
since I’m late … and, you know, wobbly from being spectacularly kissed.

You’d
think the dreamy spell from that seductive kiss would have broken by now (or at
least cracked a little) due to my confrontation with Chad … but no. I’m still
in a deep swooned stupor over it. The daze isn’t even lifting as Chad
continually texts, begging me to ‘get a grip’ and listen to him.

Dazed,
I read his latest:
“It was just for the production class, Leah. I needed the grade to be
an A. You know heat sells. The only reason I didn’t tell you about it
beforehand was because I didn’t
know
beforehand. Sonya had everything
set up—and then she sprung it on me.”

My
heart in shambles, I read his continual texts while attendance is called. I’m
not listening, though usually I do. I mean, it’s our first day of the new
semester—so new classes with new people. Usually I find it kind of
exciting, but today—not so much. I don’t even look around the room. I’m
too busy trying not to cry; well, and swooning over a kiss. (It’s a confusing
combination.)

Still,
even with all that going on in my heart and brain—still, I hear the
teacher call the name, “Kade Kole.”

My
head jerks up.

I
used to know a Kade Kole. Years ago he had been my stepbrother and soul-mate.
Sadly, in seventh grade he moved far away when his dad divorced my mom.

I
glance to the back of the class where the word “here” is called in reply to the
name.

Oh.
My. Gosh!!!!

I
almost fall out of my chair.

Barely
able to breathe, all the air whooshes out of me, and my heart slams against my
chest … because—because—oh my gosh!

Kade
is the hot guy I just kissed!!!!!

Kade!!!

I
kissed my sweet little stepbrother.

Face-palm.

He’s
sitting in the next row, two seats back from me. He gives a shy little smile at
my shocked expression, then the most adorable tiny wave.

But
here’s the thing: he’d been looking straight at me when I turned
around—like he’d been sitting here in class waiting for me to notice him.
It makes my heart explode.

Confused,
I whip back around in my seat to stare at … well, anything but my stepbrother.
And his sexy eyes and seductive stare. (They have my heart pounding all
wild—it’s
disturbing
.)

While
I’m in my sudden cloud of agitation and complete perplexity, I get a text.

It’s
not from Chad this time. It’s from Kade:
“I tried telling you.”

Heat
flows over my skin, especially from his next words:

“—but
then you got my mouth all busy.”

I
go up in flames.

I
mean, I used to watch cartoons with the guy.

When
I can finally breathe semi-normal I text:
“You let me KISS you!!!”

He
replies,
“Ew, right?”

Of
course he’s being sardonic. I mean, since I
moaned
in his mouth and he had to
hold me up
to keep me from swooning at his feet.

I
stare at his words, my heart pounding. I don’t know what to say. So … I don’t
say anything. I mean, this is all like—whoa! Not only did I randomly kiss
a guy, which was weird enough, but it ends up he was once my brother—and
we used to build snowmen in our backyard together, and catch frogs, and have
burping contests, and sit beside each other all fidgety during church. I
face-plant my desk.

Kade
texts:
“It seemed like you liked the kiss as much as me—which was a lot,
by the way.”

After
a moment, he texts,
“Leah … I liked it a lot.”

I’m
tempted to say: “Me too.”

Because
I did. Duh. I liked it an astonishingly lot. Like, it had been the best kiss I
ever had. Ever. I mean, even now it still has me swooning. But—but it was
wrong … right?

While
I’m burning with shame and bewilderment (and steamy memories of the kiss), I
get more texts from Chad.

He
keeps swearing he didn’t ‘technically’ cheat on me. It was just for the grade,
that was the
only
reason he
went along with it—and that Sonya sprung it on him.

Grrr!
I actually believe him. Because, well, leave it to Sonya to try to get me to
dump Chad so she can go after him.

Face
it, I really don’t want to
hand
him over to her.

It
would be like she won.

And
really, well, I know he needs a good grade in that class or he can’t play
football for the rest of the season. He’s been really sweating over his grades.
Especially in that class.

Now
that I’ve had time to look at it more clearly I can (slightly) see his side.
Maybe. Sort of. A little bit. I guess.

Plus,
well, I really, really like him. A lot.

Well,
I
did
.

Until
about a half-hour ago.

Only
…

You
know what? Kade is a way better kisser. Waaay better. I mean, that kiss he
planted on me blew my mind. And knocked my socks off. And all those other
sayings that mean ‘Holy smokes!’ and ‘WOW!!!’

Still
… he was once my sweet little brother.

And
used to be my very best friend.

So
it’s … awkward.

And,
yeah, wrong.

Yet
… I kissed him.

I
will never, ever be able to erase that (hot) memory from my tortured (swooning)
mind.

I
slink down in my seat.

I
get another text from Chad.
“Will you please forgive me Leah? Please? I
realize what I did was beyond stupid. I don’t know
why
I went along with
it. I really don’t.”

I
know why—because Sonya is a sneaky skank.

When
I don’t text him back he writes:
“Please forgive me, Leah. Pleeeease. I’ll do
whatever you want. Do your nails, rub your feet, clean up your dog’s poop in
your backyard….”

The
boy knows how to win me, I’ll give him that.

Chad
texts on,
“Will you please forgive me Leah? Please? It was just
one
kiss.”

My
heart twists and sinks and all that angst-y stuff, because I really had liked
him. I squeeze my eyes shut, then type,
“That was one kiss too many.”

I
block him from my phone, then slink down in my seat.

Tears
forming in my eyes, I press my forehead against the cold desk. This is starting
out to be the world’s best semester.

(Not.)

CHAPTER 4

All
during class I keep sneaking little peeks back at Kade. His eyes are on me
every time I look, and they kind of light up each time he catches me peeking.

I
don’t really understand my confusing heart—why it gets so excited to see
Kade get excited to see
me
.

I
mean, it’s
Kade
. So, yes, of
course I’m delighted to see him again. I had loved the little guy like
a—well, like an actual little brother. But now things have changed.
So
much. For one thing, there is no way
you could call Kade “little” anymore. And for another, the word “brother” does
not come to mind when I sneakily gaze upon him—this gorgeous creature. In
fact, “Sex God” screams in my mind way louder than anything remotely close to
“brother.” Maybe it’s because I kissed him. And it was
spectacular
.

…
But even if I hadn’t kissed him, I still don’t think I could look upon him
without having
fantasies
about
kissing him. And without drooling.

Which
is so strange.

I
mean, it’s
Kade
.

He
used to be all round and cuddle-y. I’d teasingly call him my “teddy bear” …
though secretly I’d really think of him like that. He was soft and sweet and
comfy—my favorite blankie. Yet also my favorite plaything and playmate. I
used to be able to get him to do anything I wanted—
anything
—even play
dolls
with me! (Though he’d groan about it, and resist with all his might. Still, in
the end, he’d do it—always. Though he’d beg me to get to the “plot,” like
he seemed to think at some point there would be zombie attacks and the
apocalypse and a good portion of my well-dressed Barbies would get
decapitated.)

I
had loved him dearly. With all of my heart.

But
now … well, I don’t know. Now I’m all messed up and confused.

The
boy I used to know (and love) had been pudgy and sweet—this Kade sitting
behind me isn’t. At all. There is absolutely no “pudge” on the boy whatsoever.
And his kiss hadn’t been “sweet.” At all. Far from it. It had been
mind-blowing. Awesome and spectacular.

…
But
so
not sweet.

Just
thinking about that kiss sends me into flames again, and has me needing to dunk
my head in a bucket of ice water.

And
take a cold shower.

Though
I want to keep staring at Kade (forever), I refuse to look back at him again.
It’s hard though. Only come on, it’s perverted. Gazing at him does disturbing
things to my heart. Gets it all turned-on. But I don’t want to be turned-on by
Kade.

So,
of course, I refuse to look at him again until I can do it calmly. (Which face
it, will probably be NEVER.)

While
I’m sternly staring straight ahead—at nothing—I get another text
from Kade. This one is apparently to explain how our encounter actually went
down this morning—as though I’m not already up on it.

He
texts:
“To clarify: I’d just come over to your locker to say hi to you.”

When
I squeeze my eyes shut, he texts more:
“—got to admit, you said it in a much
more thorough way than I had planned. I mean, that was a full-on hello.”

Going
up in flames, I quickly text,
“It was a mistake, Kade.”

His
answer makes my heart sink:
“Yeah … I admit it was.”

Ouch!
Unexpected pain crashes through me from his words. Then my heart falls like a
brick as he texts:
“It shouldn’t have happened.”

He
adds:
“I’m sorry, Leah.”

I
wish I could say the same—that I was sorry it happened too. But really
I’m not. Now after facing his texts I’m stuck realizing the truth—the
thing I’m
really
sorry about is that
he thinks it shouldn’t have happened.

I
know I’d kept telling my heart it was a mistake and wrong and all
that—but now that I know how he feels about it, now my real, true, honest
feelings are gurgling up to the surface.

Man,
this blows.

Realizing
I’m hot for Kade and his kiss … yet he thinks it’s a mistake and shouldn’t have
happened.

I
thump my head on my desk.

A
lot
of drama has gone down today …
and it is only first period.

This
is going to be a long day.