“I know, I know.” Kennedy held back her eye roll, but I heard it in her tone, regardless. “Don’t sweat it, Mara. I love you just the way you are. I’ve got to go, though. Today’s Edge of the Empire in the library, so I’ll see you after school.”
Edge of the Empire was a Star Wars tabletop game, and Kennedy loved Star Wars. Mr. Nelson, the librarian, sponsored a club once a week, where he led other Star Wars fans in gameplay.
“Ugh. You are such a nerd!” I teased and tried to pretend our conversation hadn’t just fed into all my insecurities.
Kennedy looked playfully down her nose at me. “The word you are looking for is geek.”
“Fine, geek. I’ll see you later.”
Kennedy waved over her shoulder. I shook my head. Kennedy was definitely her own person. Most of the time, she pulled her wispy white-blonde hair into two buns high on her head, and she always wore coke-bottle glasses that made her already large, blue eyes seem even bigger. She embraced her uniqueness. But even with her glasses and a different Star Wars t-shirt every day, Kennedy was beautiful, small, and delicate.
No one would accuse me of being delicate. At five feet, nine inches, I towered over most other girls at school. When I was younger, volleyball and basketball coaches begged me to try out for their teams—not only was I tall, I was naturally strong—too bad I lacked grace, speed, and the ability to command my limbs.
Except when it came to art.
Usually.
Of course, if that were true, why couldn’t I command my hands or my fingers to create the perfect painting for the scholarship competition?
What had Ms. Coltrain said? “Dig deeper, Mara. Feel.” I felt my art—didn’t I?
“Hey, Mara,” a familiar voice spoke directly into my ear.
“Aah!” I screamed, clutching a hand to my heart.
“Jeez, take it easy. It’s just me.” Taggish put his hand on my arm, presumably to help me calm down after he’d scared me half out of my wits, but it didn’t help. Instead of feeling calm, the burst of adrenaline from being startled turned into a swarm of butterflies.
Just me, he’d said.
Since when did just me make my heart race?
He stood close, so close the heat from his much bigger body seeped into mine. He’d grown in the last ten months. He was taller and broader than he’d been when he first moved in. He’d been working out. I knew because he had a set of weights in his garage, and he used them often . . . with the door open. Not that I watched.
Much.
He had an appealing face. Strong, angular, handsome by any standard. And a cute dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose.
I used to think freckles came from fairies. I imagined they danced across a person’s skin with tiny paintbrushes while they slept. Had Taggish’s freckles come from the fairies? Probably not, but it was a sweet image in my mind.
Those freckles, though, were a tantalizing contrast to the strong, masculine lines of his cheeks and jaw, both covered with bristly whiskers.
I wanted to paint those lines.
Taggish snapped his fingers in my face. “Mara? Earth to Mara!”
“What?” I blinked and focused. “What?”
He frowned, and an adorable wrinkle appeared between his eyes.
Adorable?
Really?
Pull yourself together, Mara. This was Taggish. The trouble next door. I couldn’t get sucked in by freckles and manly whiskers.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand still resting on my forearm.
“Yes. I’m fine.” I shook myself free of his touch.
Taggish never talked to me at school. We didn’t really talk at all. It was more like we yelled at each other.
“O-kay.” He hit me with the full force of his gaze. “Can I walk with you a sec?”
Gracious, he had gorgeous eyes.
Wait.
He wanted to walk with me?
“Why?”
His head fell back, and he stared at the ceiling. “Why are you so suspicious? Jeez. We’re neighbors, aren’t we?”
Neighbors. Not friends. In fact, I might even say enemies.
Neighbor enemies. Nenemies.
“Fine. Let’s walk together.” He was up to something. But what? We were at school, just walking. Him casually sauntering—me, well, like I had a stick up the wazoo.
Fifty feet of tiled floor and a hundred of our fellow students separated us from the cafeteria doors—a long way to go without speaking to one another. I wracked my brain for something to talk about. Then I remembered.
“So . . . how’s baseball?” Yikes. Brilliant conversationalist, I was not. But Taggish didn’t seem to notice.
“Good. We just started this week.” He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.
My back prickled. “Oh. Right.”
I didn’t know Taggish well, but something told me he was being weird. For all his casual appearance, his eyes darted around like he was searching for something.
But what?
Best keep him talking. “What position do you play?”
Did he stumble a bit? “Centerfield. Let’s not talk, okay?”
Rude much? “What is your problem?”
He stopped searching the hall and looked at me. “I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem?”
“Why are your eyes doing that?” I might not have noticed except I liked his eyes. They didn’t look as nice when they twitched.
He almost reached up to touch his face but caught himself and stuffed his hand in his pocket instead. “Doing what?”
Fine.
He wanted to play like that?
Fine.
“Whatever, Taggish.” I’d just pretend he wasn’t there. The idiot.
It wasn’t easy. He smelled good. Spicy, but clean. Not overpowering, just enough to tinge the air between us. I half wanted to lean in, get a lungful. But then I’d be the one acting weird. Besides, I wasn’t interested in boys right now. I had more important things to worry about. And even if that weren’t the case, Taggish would be the last guy on the planet I’d look at twice.
Okay, I might look. But I still wouldn’t be interested in him.
We were about five feet from the double doors to the cafeteria when it happened. Out of nowhere, Taggish took hold of my face.
“Don’t hit me,” he murmured, right before he kissed me.
3
Taggish
I kissed her. Mara. My annoying neighbor.
At first—because it would have to be a heck of a kiss to earn detention—the only emotion I registered was triumph. I’d done it. After stressing for the last two days, I’d tracked Mara down and kissed her right in front of the lunch monitor, Ms. Fox, a woman known for strictly enforcing the school handbook.
Yes!
Then, because I’m a guy with a pulse, my body and my brain woke to what was happening. Awareness. I noticed everything about Mara. Silky lips I’d half expected to taste sour because of the way she was, but—mmm, what was that? Sweet. Sugary. Vanilla.
She tasted so good. I licked her lips. They parted.
My brain emptied. My arms knew what to do without being told. Pull her closer. She felt soft . . . everywhere. My motivation altered.
Just. Like. That.
I tilted my head and paused. For less than a second, I waited, because she hadn’t asked for this, and I wanted more than I originally planned to take. Her chin lifted.