A Thousand Boy Kisses Read online

  Closing my eyes, I vowed to leave him alone. I wouldn’t be a burden to him. I’d protect him from the pain.

  Because I still loved him as much as I always had.

  Even if the boy I loved no longer loved me back.

  Poppy

  I flexed one hand, balancing my cello and bow with the other. Every now and again, my fingers grew numb and I had to wait to be able to play again. But as Michael Brown finished up his violin solo, I knew nothing would deter me from sitting center stage tonight. I would play my piece. And I’d savor every second of creating the music I loved so much.

  Michael drew back his bow, and the audience burst into rapturous applause. He took a quick bow and exited on the other side of the stage.

  The emcee grabbed the mic and announced my name. When the audience heard I was making my long-overdue return, their clapping grew louder, welcoming me back to the musical fold.

  My heart raced in excitement at the whistles and support from parents and friends in the auditorium. As many of my peers from the orchestra came to the wings to pat me on the back and wish me words of encouragement, I had to chase back a lump in my throat.

  Straightening my shoulders, I forced back the overwhelming onslaught of emotion. I tipped my head to the audience as I walked to take my seat. The spotlight above rained bright light on me.

  I positioned myself perfectly, waiting until the clapping died down. As always, I glanced up and found my family sitting proudly in the third row. My mama and daddy were smiling widely. Both sisters gave me little waves.

  Smiling back to show them I had seen them, I fought against the slight pain that fluttered in my chest as I spotted Mr. and Mrs. Kristiansen sitting alongside them, Alton waving at me too.

  The only person missing was Rune.

  I hadn’t performed in two years. And before that, he never missed one of my recitals. Even if he had to travel, he was at every single one, camera in hand, smiling his crooked half-smile when our eyes connected in the dark.

  Clearing my throat, I closed my eyes as I placed my fingers on the neck of the cello and brought the bow to the string. I counted to four in my head and began the challenging Prelude from Bach’s Cello Suites. It was one of my favorite pieces to play—the intricacy of the melody, the fast pace of the bow work and the perfect tenor sound that echoed around the auditorium.

  Each time I sat on this seat, I let the music flow through my veins. I let the melody pour from my heart, and I imagined sitting center stage at Carnegie Hall—my ultimate dream. I imagined the audience sitting before me: people who, like me, lived for the sound of a single perfect note, who thrilled to be carried away on a journey of sound. They felt the music in their hearts and its magic in their souls.

  My body swayed to the rhythm, at the change in tempo and the final crescendo … but best of all, I forgot the numbness in my fingertips. For a brief moment, I forgot it all.

  As the final note rang in the air, I lifted my bow from the vibrating string and, tipping my head back, slowly opened my eyes. I blinked against the bright light, a smile pulling on my lips in the solace of that silent moment when the note faded to nothing, before the applause of the audience began. That sweet, sweet moment when the adrenalin of the music made you feel so alive you felt you could conquer the world, that you had achieved serenity in its purest form.

  And then, the applause began, breaking the spell. Lowering my head, I smiled as I rose from the seat, bowing my head in thanks.

  As I gripped the neck of my cello, my eyes automatically searched for my family. Then my eyes traveled along the cheering patrons, and skirted along the back wall. At first, I didn’t realize what I was seeing. But as my heart slammed against my chest, my eyes were drawn to the very left of the far wall. I caught sight of long blond hair disappearing through the exit door … a tall, toned boy dressed all in black, vanishing from sight. But not before he glanced over his shoulder one last time, and I caught a glimpse of crystal-blue eyes…

  My lips parted in shock, but before I could be sure what I was witnessing, the boy was gone, leaving behind a slowly closing door.

  Was it…? Would he…?

  No, I tried to convince myself, firmly. It couldn’t have been Rune. There was no way he would have come to this.

  He hated me.

  The memory of his cold blue stare in the school hallway confirmed my thoughts—I was simply wishing for things that couldn’t possibly be real.

  With a final bow, I walked off the stage. I listened to the three remaining performers, then left through the backstage door, only to find my family and Rune’s family waiting for me.

  My thirteen-year-old sister, Savannah, was the first to see me. “Pops!” she shouted and ran to me, wrapping her arms around my waist.

  “Hey y’all,” I replied and squeezed her in return. The next second, Ida, now eleven, was hugging me too. I squeezed them back as tightly as I could. When they drew back, their eyes were shining. I playfully tilted my head. “Hey now, no crying, remember?”

  Savannah laughed and Ida nodded her head. They released me. My mama and daddy both took their turn in telling me how proud they were.

  Finally, I turned to Mr. and Mrs. Kristiansen. A sudden wave of nerves crashed through me. This would be the first time I had spoken to them since they had returned from Oslo.

  “Poppy,” Mrs. Kristiansen said softly and held out her arms. I walked to the woman who had been a second mother to me and fell into her embrace. She held me close and kissed my head. “I’ve missed you, darling,” she said, her accent sounding stronger than I remembered.

  My mind drifted to Rune. I wondered if his accent was stronger too.

  As Mrs. Kristiansen let me go, I chased this idle thought away. Mr. Kristiansen hugged me next. When I pulled away, I saw little Alton gripping tightly onto Mr. Kristiansen’s legs. I bent down. Alton ducked his head down shyly, glimpsing up at me through the thick strands of his long hair.

  “Hey, baby,” I said, tickling his side. “Do you remember me?”

  Alton stared at me for the longest time, before shaking his head.

  I laughed. “You lived right next door to me. Sometimes you would come to the park with me and Rune or, if it was a good day, to the blossom grove!”

  I had spoken Rune’s name without conscious thought, but it reminded myself and everyone around me that Rune and I had once been inseparable. A silence descended on the group.

  Feeling an ache in my chest, the kind I got when I fiercely missed my mamaw, I stood up and glanced away from the sympathetic stares. I was about to change the subject, when something pulled on the bottom of my dress.

  When I looked down, Alton’s big blue eyes were fixed on my face. I ran my hand over his soft hair. “Hey Alton, you okay?”

  Alton’s cheeks flushed, but he asked in his sweet voice, “You are friends with Rune?”

  That same ache from a moment ago flared, and I cast a panicked look around our families. Rune’s mamma winced. I didn’t know what to say. Alton pulled on my dress again, waiting for an answer.

  Sighing, I kneeled down and said sadly, “He was my very best friend in the whole wide world.” I pressed my hand over my chest. “And I loved him with my whole heart, every single inch of it.” Leaning in closer, I whispered through a thick throat, “And I always will.”

  My stomach flipped. Those words were the very truth from my soul, and no matter how Rune and I were now, I would forever hold him in my heart.

  “Rune …” Alton suddenly spoke up. “Rune … spoke to you?”

  I laughed. “Of course, sweetie. He spoke to me all the time. All of his secrets. We talked about everything.”

  Alton looked back at his daddy and his little eyebrows drew together, etching a scowl on his cute face. “He spoke to Poppy, Pappa?”

  Rune’s pappa nodded his head. “He did, Alton. Poppy was his best friend. He loved her completely.”

  Alton’s eyes became impossibly wide and he turned back to me. His bottom lip trem
bled.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” I asked, rubbing his arm.

  Alton sniffed. “Rune doesn’t talk to me.” My heart sank. Because Rune adored Alton; he had always looked after him, played with him. Alton adored Rune. He admired his big brother so much.

  “He ignores me,” Alton said, his cracked voice breaking my heart. Alton watched me. He watched me with an intensity that I’d only ever experienced from one other person—the older brother who ignored him. He placed his hand on my arm and asked, “Can you speak to him? Can you ask him to speak to me? If you’re his best friend, then he’ll listen to you.”

  My heart fell to pieces. I looked over Alton’s head at his mamma and pappa, then at mine. They all appeared hurt by Alton’s stark revelation.

  When I turned to Alton again, he was still staring, willing me to help. “I would, sweetie,” I said softly, “but he doesn’t speak to me now either.”

  I could see Alton’s hope deflate like a balloon. I kissed his head, then he ran back to his mamma. Clearly seeing I was hurting, my daddy quickly changed the subject. He turned to Mr. Kristiansen and invited the Kristiansen family for drinks at our house tomorrow night. I stepped away from them all, drawing in a deep breath as my eyes stared blankly across the parking lot.

  The sound of a car engine revving snapped me from my trance. I turned in that direction. I lost all the breath in my lungs when, in the distance, I saw a long-haired blond boy jump into the front seat of a black Camaro.

  A black Camaro that belonged to Deacon Jacobs, Rune’s best friend.

  * * *

  I looked in the mirror and admired my outfit. My sky-blue skater dress hung to mid thigh, my bobbed brown hair was pulled up at the side with a white bow, and I wore black ballet flats on my feet.

  Reaching for my jewelry box, I pulled out my favorite silver earrings and slipped them into my lobes. They were infinity signs. Rune had given them to me for my fourteenth birthday.

  I wore them at every opportunity.

  Grabbing my cropped denim jacket, I hurried out of my bedroom and out into the cool night. Jorie had texted me that she was outside. As I climbed into the front seat of her mama’s truck, I turned to face my best friend. She was smiling at me.

  “Poppy, you look so freakin’ cute,” she remarked. I ran my hands down my dress, smoothing out the skirt.

  “Is it okay?” I asked, worried. “I didn’t really know what to wear.”

  Jorie batted her hand in front of her face as she pulled out of the driveway. “It’s fine.”

  I checked out what she was wearing. Jorie was dressed in a black sleeveless dress and biker boots. She was definitely edgier than me, but I was thankful that our outfits were not poles apart.

  “So,” she began, as we left my street, “how was the recital?”

  “Good,” I said evasively.

  Jorie glanced at me cautiously. “And how are you feeling?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Jorie, I’m good. Please, just let me be. You’re as bad as my mama.”

  Jorie, seemingly stuck for words for once, stuck out her tongue. And just like that, she made me laugh again.

  For the remainder of the ride, Jorie filled me in on the gossip that had circled the school about why I’d been gone. I smiled in all the right places and nodded my head at the parts she expected me to, but I wasn’t really interested. I never much cared for all the drama that happened at school.

  I heard the party before I saw it. Shouting and loud music blasted out of Deacon’s house and down the street. His parents were on a short vacation, and in the small town of Blossom Grove that meant one thing: house party.

  As we parked near the house, we could see kids spilling out onto the front yard. I swallowed back my nerves. I stayed close behind Jorie as we crossed the street.

  Gripping onto her arm, I asked, “Are house parties always this crazy?”

  Jorie laughed. “Yeah.” She linked my arm with hers and pulled me forward.

  When we entered the house, I flinched at how loud the music was. As we pushed our way through the rooms to the kitchen, drunken students staggered by, forcing me to grip onto Jorie until I was convinced I’d be causing her physical pain.

  Jorie glanced back at me and laughed. When at last we reached the kitchen, I immediately relaxed on seeing Ruby standing with Deacon. The kitchen was much quieter than the rooms we had struggled through.

  “Poppy!” Ruby declared and crossed the kitchen to pull me into her arms. “Do you want a drink?”

  “Just a soda,” I replied; Ruby frowned.

  “Poppy!” she admonished. “You need a real drink.”

  I laughed at her horrified expression. “Ruby, thanks, but I’ll stick to soda.”

  “Boo!” Ruby cried, but threw her arm around my neck and led me to the drinks.

  “Pops,” Deacon greeted, as a text came through on his cell.

  “Hey, Deek,” I replied and took the diet soda Ruby had poured me. Ruby and Jorie led me to the backyard, to the fire pit blazing in the center of the lawn. Surprisingly not many people were out here, which suited me just fine.

  It wasn’t long before Deacon pulled Ruby back to the party inside, leaving me alone with Jorie. I was staring into the flames, when Jorie said, “I’m sorry about putting my big ole’ foot in my mouth yesterday about Rune. It hurt you, I saw it. Lordy! I just don’t always think before I open my big trap! My daddy’s threatening to have it wired shut!” Jorie pushed her hands over her mouth in a mock struggle. “I can’t, Pops! This mouth, uncontrollable as it is, is all I’ve got!”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “It’s alright, Jor. I knew you didn’t mean it. You’d never hurt me.”

  Jorie dropped her hands from her mouth, her head tipped to the side. “Seriously though, Pops. What do you think of Rune? You know, since he’s been back?”

  Jorie was watching me curiously. I shrugged. Jorie rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me you have no opinion about how the great love of your life looks, now he’s older and, in my opinion, beyond smokin’ hot!”

  My stomach churned and I played with the plastic Solo cup in my hands. Shrugging, I replied, “He’s just as handsome as he ever was.”

  Jorie smirked behind her cup as she took a drink, then she grimaced when we heard the voice of Avery drifting out from inside the house. Jorie lowered her cup. “Ugh, looks like the whore’s in the house.”

  I smiled at the level of disgust on Jorie’s face. “Is she really that bad?” I asked. “Is she actually a whore?”

  Jorie sighed. “Not really, I just hate how she flirts with all the guys.”

  Ah, I thought, knowing exactly who she was referring to. “Anyone in particular?” I teased, and watched Jorie scowl in response. “Judson, perhaps?” I added, prompting Jorie to throw her empty cup my way.

  I laughed as it flew past me in completely the wrong direction. When my laughter had died down, Jorie said, “At least now Rune’s back she seems to have backed off Jud, anyway.” My good humor evaporated. When Jorie realized what she’d just said, she groaned in exasperation at herself, and moved quickly to sit beside me and take hold of my hand. “Crap, Pops. I’m so sorry. I did it again! I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay,” I interrupted.

  But Jorie tightened her grip on my hand. Moments of silence passed by. “Do you regret it, Pops? Do you ever regret cutting him off like that?”

  I stared at the fire, lost in the roaring flames, and answered honestly, “Every single day.”

  “Poppy,” Jorie whispered sadly.

  I threw her a weak smile. “I miss him, Jor. You have no idea how much. But I couldn’t tell him what was happening. I couldn’t do that to him. Better he believed that I was no longer interested, than to tell him the ugly truth.” Jorie laid her head on my shoulder. I sighed. “If he had known, he would have tried everything in his power to come back. But that wouldn’t have been possible. His daddy’s job was there in Oslo. And I …” I sucked in a breath. “And I wanted him t
o be happy. I knew that, in time, he’d get past not hearing from me. But I know Rune, Jor; he would never have gotten past the alternative.”

  Jorie lifted her head and kissed my cheek, which made me laugh. But I could still see the sadness on Jorie’s face as she asked, “And now? Now he’s back, what will you do? Eventually, everyone else will find out.”

  Inhaling deeply, I replied, “I’m hoping they won’t, Jor. I’m not popular at school like you, Ruby and Rune. If I simply disappear again, no one will notice.” I shook my head. “And I doubt the Rune who came home would care anymore. I saw him in the hallway again yesterday, and the look he gave me showed me how he feels. I’m nothing to him now.”

  An awkward silence followed until my best friend ventured, “But you love him just as much. Am I right?”

  I didn’t reply. But my lack of response was as loud as a scream.

  I did. I still loved him, the same as always.

  A loud crash came from the front yard, shattering the intensity of our conversation. I realized a couple of hours must have passed since we arrived. Jorie got to her feet and grimaced. “Pops, I need to pee! Come inside?”

  I laughed at Jorie dancing on the spot and followed her inside. Jorie pushed her way through to the bathroom at the back of the house. I waited for her in the hallway, until I heard Ruby and Deacon’s voices drifting from the den.

  Deciding to go and sit with them while I waited for Jorie, I opened the door and stepped inside. I was barely three steps in when I regretted ever coming to this party. Three couches dominated the small room. Ruby and Deacon occupied one, Judson and some of the football team sprawled over another. But it was the third couch I couldn’t tear my eyes off. No matter how much I commanded my feet to move, they refused.

  Avery was sitting on the couch, drinking from her cup. An arm was around her shoulders. Avery was tracing patterns on the hand that was hanging over her chest.

  I knew what that hand felt like.

  I knew how it felt to be under the protective shelter of that arm.