Taste Test (25 page)

“Say I’m the man,” Billy demands.

“Never.” I wriggle hard, but he’s gotten hold of both my arms.

“Come on—say it.”

I roll my eyes, knowing there is only one way out. “Fine, fine,” I grumble. “You’re the man.”

“What?” Billy holds a hand up to his ear as though he can’t hear me clearly. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘you’re the man.’ “

This time, though, I manage to get one arm free. I yank it from his grip and start pummeling him.

“Ouch—crap. Nora, quit it.”

“Say I’m the coolest girl you’ve ever met,” I demand. He laughs.

“Not a chance.”

“Your loss.” I continue to clobber his back and shoulders until he throws up both hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay!” He looks down at me, his green eyes sparkling. “Fine. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met.”

“Damn right,” I say, crossing my arms smugly. “And don’t you forget it.”

“How could I, what with you reminding me via public humiliation?”

“Nah, no one’s watching,” I say, punching his arm lightly.

“Well, in that case …” He ducks down and sweeps me up over his shoulder like a potato sack.

“Stop it!” I yell, flailing my arms. “Let me down, you jerk.”

“Gimme one good reason.”

“Because I’ll kick your butt … again!”

He guffaws. “Right. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Dammit, Billy.” I can feel the blood rushing up into my head and I’m starting to get a little nauseated.

Without a word, he heaves me back over and holds me bride-and-groom style before plopping down on a bench and taking me with him. I fall into his lap, both of us breathing hard.

“You are ridiculous,” I say, pushing myself up to sitting. He shakes his head.

“I’m just making up for lost time.” He looks down at the ground, then back up at me. “I miss you, you know. A lot.”

“I miss you, too,” I say, giving him a small smile. He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

“Well, I guess I better get you back, right? You’ve probably got a big day tomorrow.”

I nod reluctantly, scooting myself off the bench. “Every day is a big day around here.”

The walk back to the dorm is far more composed than our earlier roughhousing. I watch the cold wisps of New England fog settle down near the grass on either side of the dorm.

“So.” I turn to look at him when we reach the building’s front steps. He has both hands shoved in his pockets and looks like he is probably freezing in his T-shirt and jeans.

“So,” he repeats.

“I’ll see you in the morning before you leave, right?” I feel
a distinct sensation of déjà vu. That’s the part that sucks about Billy and my dad coming up here—I have to say goodbye all over again.

“Of course.”

He pulls me in for a long hug, the Billy hug I’ve come to rely on over the years. As he lets me go, I smile up at him.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve needed one of those hugs lately.”

He grins. “Me too, kid.”

“Ugh! You know I hate when you call me that!”

Pouting, I start to cross my arms, but he grabs my hand first. For a second, he looks in my eyes as though he is searching for something, as though the answer to an important question is there. Then carefully, he leans in and kisses me.

It is a short, sweet kiss—the kind that feels like a warm summer rain, a simmer rather than a boil or a sizzle. Not like the one with Christian: that was all bravado and tension and urgency. This is softer, like a quiet moment in a world drowning in sound. As he pulls back, I keep my eyes closed for a second. I know that when I open them, nothing will be the same.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, touching my face again. Giving me a final smile, he turns and walks toward the parking lot. Unable to move, all I can do is watch him leave.

“I.” BANG. “Don’t.” BANG. “Know.” BANG. “Why.” BANG. “You.” BANG. “Keep.” BANG. “Doing this,” Gigi accuses between the pounding rhythm of her rolling-pin-turned-weapon.

“Doing what?” I demand.

She gives one last whack to the plastic bag of cornflakes before adding the melted butter and cayenne. We’re trying different types of breading for oven-fried chicken, but I’m really just using it as an excuse to hit something.

“Fighting with Christian. It’s pointless and time consuming. And, if it’s making me tired, I can only imagine how exhausted
you
must be.”

“Oh. Right.” I’d almost forgotten about my knock-down-drag-out with Christian last night. All I’ve really been doing is thinking about my unexpected kiss last night.

“I think I just let Christian get under my skin,” I mutter.

“Uh,
yeah
. Clearly.”

“I’m just … I’m just
done
with the whole thing. I want Christian to stay away from me. I’m starting to think that life would have been easier if I’d never applied to this program in the first place.”

Gigi puts a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, you know that’s BS. You’re an amazing chef and you’re giving that self-obsessed jerk a run for his mashed potatoes. Just hang in there. We really don’t have that much further to go.”

Despite Christian’s crap about Gigi and her lack of talent, she, too, made it through Elimination to the Final Four—and because we spend all our time together, she moved into my room a few nights ago. It’s great to stay up really late talking, giggling in the dark. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister. It’s what I hoped sharing a room would be like when I got here in the first place. Of course, that was before I met Joy.

“So what about Billy?” Gigi asks, wiping away a smattering of buttery crumbs.

I take a deep breath, then exhale hard. “I don’t know. I mean, I love Billy—he’s my best friend.”

“But I bet that kiss was a long time coming.”

“Maybe,” I concede, covering the butter with its waxy wrapper. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about kissing Billy. Especially in the last year—it was like he turned from a boy wonder to a superhero overnight.

“So …” Gigi waggles her eyebrows.

“So what?”

“So, what was the kiss like?” she says, bumping her hip against mine. I smile in spite of myself.

“It was … nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding. I look down at my hands, thinking about Billy’s mouth against mine. It was warm and soft and comfortable, like something you need to keep you safe.

“But …” Gigi looks at me, clearly skeptical. “I know there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

I shake my head hard. “But he’s my best friend! He’s my rock—my sure thing. I mean, without Billy, I’d have—I’d have no one, really. No one to count on. No one to talk to.”

“You’d have your dad. You’d have me.”

“I know—it’s just … it’s not the same. Up until now—or at least until recently, Billy’s been my purely platonic anchor. He’s the one thing that keeps me grounded when I lose my focus or forget my way.”

“He sounds like a road map,” Gigi says, less than enthusiastic about the decidedly unsexy turn the conversation has taken. I grip my head in both hands and rest my elbows on the counter.

“But what if that was it, Gigi? What if that was the end of our friendship?” Already, I can feel my thoughts spinning out of control. “The kiss could ruin everything. Now when Billy and I talk, it’ll be awkward and uncomfortable. We’ll stop writing or calling or seeing each other. He’ll quit the restaurant. He’ll date a Bonne Bell devotee. He’ll forget all about who we used to be for each other. What we used to be together.”

I don’t realize how hard I’m breathing until Gigi’s hand is on my back.

“Nora, calm down.” She gives my shoulder a squeeze. “You don’t know anything for sure—and you won’t know anything for sure—until you talk to Billy face-to-face.”

I inhale slowly, watching her rinse her sponge and squeeze it out before taking one last swipe of the countertop. I know she’s right. Billy and I have to talk. Those words become my mantra as I head upstairs and change my clothes, both anxious and terrified of what will happen next.

I’m still trying to figure it out when I head toward Cyber Cup, where Dad and Billy agreed to meet me before flying back home. Even after a brisk walk, I’m no closer to figuring out what I’m going to say.

When I come around the side of the building, I spot my father leaning against the plate glass, a steaming paper cup in his hand. Through the window, I see Billy inside ordering at the counter. I reach Dad, smiling up at him as we hug.

“I’m gonna miss you so much!” I say, my words slightly muffled against his coat.

“Nah.” Dad shakes his head, gently moving me away and looking into my eyes. “You’ve got a contest to win, kiddo. You
won’t have time to miss anyone. Although it won’t stop us from missing you.”

“You got that right,” a voice says behind me.

I turn to see Billy a few feet away, holding a coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other. I’m grateful that his full hands make leaning in for a hug too hard to attempt.

“Do you have time to sit down?” I ask a little too brightly, gesturing to a bench nearby. “Or we could go inside instead?”

Dad’s shaking his head. “We actually need to head out a little early—you know how airport security is these days.”

I nod, watching Billy scarf down his muffin. He wipes a few stray crumbs from above his lip.

“Hey, Dad,” I begin tentatively, “would you mind if I talked to Billy alone for a minute?”

Dad looks from me to Billy, then shrugs. “Sure. I’ll head inside and see if I can snag someone’s sports section.”

Billy and I both watch him head through the glass door. As it shuts silently behind him, I slowly turn to face my best friend.

“So …”

“So.” Billy gives me a tentative smile.

“About last night …”

“Yeah.”

I shuffle my feet, wishing we’d decided to talk inside. My toes are beginning to get numb with the cold, reminding me of the day I arrived here—the first day I spent away from Billy. Silently, he moves a little closer to me.

“Nora,” he says, his voice already asking the question. I take a deep breath.

“I don’t know what that was last night.” My voice is breathy and almost impossible to hear.

“I think it was kissing.” Billy gives a lopsided grin and I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, obviously—but, you know … I mean … I don’t know …”

“Wow, you are superarticulate this morning.”

I swat at his shoulder. “Stop trying to make me laugh. This is serious.”

It’s Billy’s turn to roll his eyes. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it have to be serious?”

I squint up at the bright sky, wondering if maybe I was wrong. If what I felt wasn’t nearly as life changing for Billy as it was for me.

“Look, Nors,” Billy says, taking one of my gloved hands, “you’re my best friend. I care about you more than anyone. Having you gone—well, it made me realize how much I love having you around every day.”

I nod. “I know what you mean.”

Billy runs a hand through his hair. “I guess feeling that way—missing you so much—made me sort of think that this friendship thing we’ve always had is something more … romantic.”

I swallow hard. So does Billy. He reaches for my hand again.

“I didn’t realize how hard it would be to let you go. When I suggested you apply, maybe a part of me didn’t think you’d get in, either. But you did and you’re here and … well, I miss you. I think that’s the point I’m trying to make.

“Look,” he continues, shaking his head, “you’ve got enough on your plate, what with winning this contest and going off to Paris. I think it just took me coming here and seeing you to understand that you’re never coming back to Weston.”

I can’t help but smile. He’s right; my goals haven’t changed. It’s Paris or bust for me, even though it requires more time away from everyone I care about.

“So … now what?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Now,” Billy says with a sigh, “I go back. You win the contest. I’ll be home when you get there. We’ll hang for the summer before you go to France with your scholarship.”

“Sounds like normal,” I say slowly, watching Billy’s expression. “Like nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing
has
changed,” Billy says firmly, pulling me in for a hug. “We’re the best of the best of friends. The closest you get.”

I smile over his shoulder, then pull away.

“Besides,” he says, eyeing me intently, “you’ve got some major fish to fry up here before you make it to the top of the heap.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

“I mean, it looks like that Van Lorton kid is out for blood. That, or he’s head over heels in love with you.”

“Please,” I scoff. “Christian wants to win as bad as I do.”

“Maybe,” Billy says thoughtfully. “I’m just not sure what he wants to win more—this contest or you.”

I don’t know what to say to that. Billy tweaks my hair and grins.

“We’re best friends, Nors, kiss or no kiss. Don’t waste
your time trying to analyze it. Get back in the game and kick some ass.”