The Reece Malcolm List (15 page)

I run my fingers over my lips, wondering if this makes me different than I was just a half hour ago. Honestly, I worried I wasn’t ever going to get kissed, unless it was onstage. “Are you in trouble?”

“Nah, I just told her it’d be an early night and I guess it’s later than she expected.” He shrugs, starting up the car and taking off down the street. “She worries. My brother’s kind of wild, and she thinks I’m gonna get into trouble like him.”

“At least you know she cares?”

“Yeah, trust me, that’s not something I ever worry about.”

I have a lot of questions for him as he drives to my house, like if he thinks Lissa will kill us, and does this mean anything other than it’s pretty nice kissing each other, and if we’re supposed to be quiet about it or not. I keep them all in, though.

“Talk to you soon,” he says, touching my knee.

“Definitely.”

He kisses me again before we officially say good night, and I get out of the car and walk up to the house feeling a little floaty, and still tingly. Except then all I can think about is Sai. Stupid freaking
Sai
, who basically has a girlfriend now, who is not interested in me at all—despite the crazy things my mother says—and who was definitively not the boy kissing me mere moments ago. What is
wrong
with me?

It doesn’t help that my mother sees me when I walk in and asks, all excitedly, “Whoa, who did
you
make out with tonight?”

Since I’m new to kissing, I didn’t think about the fact that my lip gloss would migrate around my face.

“Don’t look so horrified.” She jumps up from her chair. “Brad’s still out with his friends; it’s just us. You should feel absolutely free to share details about sucking face”—yes, she actually says
sucking face—
“with Sai. I have to live vicariously through someone, after all.”

“I didn’t make out with Sai,” I say in kind of a crazy voice.

“Oh.” She grins at me. If she were a cartoon character, a light bulb would go off over her head. “The boy who picked you up tonight.”

I give up, because she’s clearly relentless. Also if she’s bad at tons of things I need her to be good at, I should probably take what I can get. “Yeah.”

“Everything all right?” she asks, finally getting the picture that maybe I’m not as thrilled as she is about this development. Also, no one’s mom should ever be this happy her kid made out. What is
that
about?

“I don’t know.” I flop down on the couch and kick off my flats. “I know it’s dumb to like Sai, but I do, so maybe I shouldn’t have kissed someone else. Also there’s someone who totally likes Elijah, who I’m sort of friends with, so that feels wrong. But also he’s really nice.”

“And really cute,” my mother points out, sitting down across from me. “Are you making too big a deal about this?”

I hold back from laughing and saying that I make too big a deal out of everything. Because she has a point. “It’s just— This is so dumb.”

“Say it.” She grabs a bag of cookies from the coffee table and holds it out to me. “Macadamia nuts will help, right?”

A few bites of a cookie prove her right. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, except, like, in plays. So . . . is it stupid that I didn’t expect it to happen? Or, like, especially with someone who’s just like a guy I know?”

“It’s definitely not stupid. But don’t stress. You’ll kiss many more people in your life, and some of them will mean a lot, and some won’t. And it’s all good either way.”

I think about that and then about the hypothetical boys still to be kissed. But mostly I think about how it’s a relief to spend a few moments more worried about anything other than my mother for once.

Chapter Eleven

Things I know about Reece Malcolm:

24. She is a wild squirrel.

25. Her boy advice isn’t so bad.

Even though I am wearing new and kind of expensive jeans picked out for me by the very choosy Travis, I am
terrified
a little nervous walking into school on Monday morning.

And not because the callbacks list will be up.

Elijah is waiting at my locker. He’s just leaning there, all casual. “Hey.”

“Oh, um, hi. Good morning.”
Good morning?
Why am I so weird?

“I was going to text you yesterday,” he says, “but I didn’t have your number.”

“Oh,” I say. “Okay. Do you want it?”

He laughs, and his laugh is somehow really hot. I didn’t know guys could have hot laughs. “Yeah, I want it.”

I give him my number, and he texts me right away so I have his. Is this just how it happens? You get randomly kissed, and then you find yourself wanting to be around that person? For some reason I expected way more complications than that.

(I mean, besides that there’s Lissa. And that there’s Sai. Not that Sai counts. Lissa is something real to Elijah, obviously, whereas Sai might as well be someone whose poster I tore out of a magazine.)

“Are you doing anything after school?” he asks.

“Well, um, maybe,” I say, because that much is true. If I get a callback, Kate said I could come over and work with her. But if I don’t—which, okay, I don’t think is very likely but
is
possible, especially since I’m so new to New City—I’m completely free and could totally use that free time for kissing Elijah more.

Wait, I should find out if I have a callback.

“Sorry, I—” I try to gesture in a way that will explain everything but I probably look crazy as I dash off from my locker and toward the Music Hall. There’s a swarm of people in there, and I have no idea how I’ll make my way to the sacred piece of paper and still get to Women’s Choir on time. Also, oh my God, I was so rude to Elijah, and do boys stop being interested in you if you’re weird
and
rude in the span of, like, two minutes?

I text him while trying to squeeze my way to the sheet.
Sorry, I forgot callbacks were up. I didn’t mean to be rude.
My phone beeps almost right away:
no prob. good luck!

Mira appears out of nowhere and tugs me by the arm down the hallway toward Women’s Choir. “I’ll save you the trip.”

“I’m not on it?”

“Devan, shut up,” she says. “Your whole shtick is getting annoying. Can you drop it?”

“I, um, I don’t have a shtick.”

“Right. The Little Miss Timid thing is just you.”

All I can think to say is that I’m working on not being a wild squirrel, but that isn’t going to help my cause.

“Of
course
you’re on the callback sheet,” she says. “You didn’t actually doubt that, did you?”

I shrug. “It’s my first audition here. I didn’t know.”

“Trust me, you’re the only one feeling any surprise over it.” She glances around us, and pulls me all the way into the choir room. “Just so you’re aware? Everyone knows what happened Saturday night. Liss and I do, at least.”

Crap crap crap.

“It’s fine,” she says, like suddenly Mira’s in charge of banishing my worries. “Lissa’s freaked, but it’s fine.”

“I don’t think you get to say it’s fine.” I didn’t mean to say something so honest and borderline bitchy to her, but once it’s out I feel brave. Accidentally brave, at least.

“Okay, I don’t get to say it’s fine.” Mira sighs. “And Liss doesn’t get to say it’s not fine, either. She’s rejected Elijah enough times by now to lose whatever claim she has over him.”

I don’t know why suddenly Mira’s so nice, but I’m not going to question it. I take my seat before Lissa walks in and keep my eyes to the front of the room, which hopefully makes me seem innocent and not like a boyfriend-stealer. I’m not a boyfriend-stealer, right?

I get the weird sensation someone’s looking at me, so I glance at Mira (who isn’t) and then to Lissa. She’s watching me, but she doesn’t give me a dirty look or anything. We just kind of hold each other’s gazes for a second. Then Mr. Deans is there and we’re on our feet for warm-ups, and I tell myself to dwell on the callback and the potential for kissing later. And maybe everyone will be okay with things.

Travis is somehow already outside the Women’s Choir room when class lets out. He grabs my hand and yanks me down the hallway. I feel like I’m getting pulled around a lot today.

“So?” he greets me.

“So what?” I ask, as if I’m any good at playing it cool.

“Oh my God, Devvie, so something
significant
happened on Saturday night and you didn’t tell me
any
of it on Sunday when we spent
our whole day
together?”

“I—”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Elijah’s so hot in that whole rock and roll way. I didn’t even know you
liked
him, and—”

“Stop talking so loudly,” I say, and not just because we’re walking by Sai and Nicole. His arm is wrapped tight around her shoulders, but he still looks over to smile and wave at us. How can I hate him for being with her when he’s so nice? (Also when I’m maybe with someone, too? But that’s just a technicality. Wait, a technicality? Do I think of Elijah as a technicality? The situation, yeah, but not Elijah at all.)

“Who told you?” I ask.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. It does, but I don’t point that out. “How did this happen? You have to tell me everything.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. He’s . . . he’s nice. It just did. And I know I suck because of Lissa and everything—”

“You
do not
,” he says. “Lissa and Eli are like this big complicated mess, but one thing they’re not is a couple. He’s fully available. So is he, like, the best kisser in the world? Musicians are
so hot
.”

“You’re so nosy.” Though maybe he isn’t nosy, and I’m just too closed-off or something. I really don’t know how to share a little when I can never share everything. “Can we not talk about this at school?”

“Ooh, choice details for later? Okay.”

I roll my eyes but find myself kind of leaning in and giving Travis a hug. “Thanks for not hating me.”

“You’re too adorable to hate. See you in Nation.”

By lunchtime, even though honestly no one’s being weird to me, I feel weird walking outside like things are normal. Things are the
opposite
of normal, and my brain can’t even handle the entirety of the situation. Like that maybe I, no matter what people are saying, am a bad person to Lissa. And maybe I’m not a good friend to Justine, considering how easy it is for me to ignore her now. And maybe I’m not even a good friend to Travis, because he clearly wants me to pony up every detail about whatever is going on, and all I want to do is hold them closely against my chest with my arms wrapped tight.

So I sit with my usual sandwich at an inside table and text Kate to see if it’s still okay to come over later. My phone buzzes in my hand, but it’s not Kate responding at lightning speed; it’s Elijah.

where r u?

I respond, and before long he’s inside sharing my table and stealing part of my sandwich. (It’s okay because he shares his Cheetos with me.) It’s sweet of him to be in here, but also maybe it draws more attention to us. (Still, it’s not like I tell him to leave or anything.) I wonder if this makes me the kind of girl who picks a boy over her friends. Except I didn’t, really—the boy picked me.

Since Kate eventually texts back that of course we’re still on for tonight, I let Elijah know I can’t hang out. He offers to drive me home, and I take him up on it. My mother will know something’s up if we’re really late, but he still parks at the other end of my street and turns off the car.

I unfasten my seat belt, which suddenly feels like this big bold move, and lean in toward him. This means I’m technically the one who’s kissing him, which I like. (Also it’s not like Elijah isn’t returning the kiss immediately.) He pulls me as close as possible—which isn’t very close thanks to his car’s design—but it still feels romantic. I’m not sure what to do with my hands, so I put them on his shoulders. We’re kissing softly at first, and it’s slow and warm, and then before I know it the kisses are blending together. Elijah leans away a little and I’m afraid he’s going to say he should take me home—even though he should—but it’s to kiss my earlobe and then my neck, which makes me shiver. I thought when people said things like that they were exaggerating, but I literally do shiver.

“Are you sure you have to go home?” he asks in his low husky voice. It’s just how he talks but I still like it, like it’s just for me.

I want to lie but I don’t. “Yeah, I’m sorry, just, callbacks tomorrow, and my mother’s friend is going to work with me, and—”

“I know,” he says. “Callbacks are a big deal.”

I shift around so I’m sitting properly in the seat again, and buckle my seat belt even though we’re all but at my house already. “Thanks for understanding.”

“It’s no problem,” he says as he pulls the car down the street and into the driveway. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” I wave and walk inside, where my mother is—as usual—typing on her laptop. “Hi.”

She looks up at me. “Hi yourself.”

“Um, I think I mentioned something about this the other day, but in case you forgot, Kate said I could come over tonight and work on some vocal stuff. She’s going to pick me up and everything. Is it still, like, okay?”

“Like, completely.”

Whenever she mocks something I say, it’s done so lightly I can’t bring myself to get offended anymore. Also I’ve realized maybe it’s just her, having witnessed her repeating back to Brad his Britishisms, as if there isn’t a whole country where people talk like him. He always bursts into laughter, though, mocking right back because while her impression is good, her fake accent is like something out of a bad high school play.

Kate picks me up about an hour later. It would have been enough time to finish my homework if I’d done that instead of spending my time picking out a perfectly casual singing outfit (I switch out my jeans for yoga pants and my flats for my gray and blue sneakers) and looking at pictures of Elijah
and Sai
on Facebook.

“Hi, sweetie,” Kate greets me as I get into her car. “So I hear there’s a boy.” Her eyebrows rise conspiratorially, and then: “Already!” like the entire word is the exclamation point.

“It’s not a big deal,” I say, not sure if that’s a lie or not.