The wine has dulled my wits. I’m too caught up in the tips of Hendricks’s fingers brushing mine. I’m too slow to object before Hendricks offers up words I hoped I’d never hear again.
“Let’s bring back the kissing booth.”
CHAPTER 11
Story
Age 13
“I’m so excited.”
“Me too.”
“Who do you want to kiss?”
“A twin, of course.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t care.”
My neck is sore from going back and forth between Annabel and Mary, watching them each apply almost an entire tube of lip gloss. Mary’s lips must be so sticky by now that whomever she ends up snogging today will have a hard timeunstickingthemselves.
I’ve also applied gloss, but one swipe only. Okay, maybe two.
“I thought you wanted to kiss Sam Pelling.”
Annabel scrunches her face, and her eyes meet mine in the mirror’s reflection. She’s so pretty. Her hair used to be darker, but now has blond bits around the front, which she swears are still from the sun last summer, though Mary said she dyed it. Not like mine, which is dark brown. No matter how many times I beg my mum, she won’t let me change it. It’s so dull.
“No. I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“Because we see Sam Pelling every day at school, and he’s kind of boring. And we only get to see the twins during half term and the holidays. Until next year, that is.” Her eyebrows wiggle at me.
My fist clenches around the lip balm in my hand, enough that the top shoots off and squirts across the room.Shit. Grabbing a jumper I left on my bedroom floor last night, I rub at the pink glitter, praying it doesn’t stain, then slump back.
Hendricks and Miles, along with Jack, Lucas, and a few other boys in our class, left Valentine Prep to attend Wellington for their senior school. They only come back now for a weekend during each half term plus the holidays. At the end of this year, Annabel will also go to Wellington, like her sister did, but Mary and I will stay in Valentine Nook and go to the senior school here. We’re all splitting up.
I’m sad about it, but what makes me sadder is that since last summer, Annabel has decided she likes the twins. Both of them. And even though I’ve never ever said to her I like Hendricks, she knows. So does Mary. In September, she’ll see them every day. And I won’t.
I stare at the drawer in my desk where I’ve hidden all the letters Hendricks has written me since he’s been away. Wellington makes all their pupils write one a week, and I know he alternates between writing to his mum and writing to me. Only my mum knows that Hendricks and I write to each other because she’s the one who collects the mail. I don’t know why I keep it a secret since we text all the time and he’s on my Snapchat.
But our letters are different. Even though we don’tshare anything exciting, it feels like something only we share. I update him on how school is boring and that Mrs. Benson is now the deputy head and so bossy. I told him I can run up the hill at Honeysuckle Lane in thirteen minutes. He didn’t believe me, so we’re doing it together when he next comes home. I’ve told him about the new cows my dad bought, and how Lando came over to see them the other day. My dad said he’s been doing a good job since he took over the village.
If I have time, or the week’s been particularly boring, I write him a short story.
Then I always sign off with “Love, your best friend, Story.”
Hendricks always signs off as “Hendricks.”
I haven’t seen him since Christmas, but his last letter arrived yesterday saying he was excited to be coming home. His mum just got a new litter of puppies so he’s going to invite me over to name them, and I can’t wait. But what really has my belly doing flip-flops is his text this morning asking if I’ll be at the kissing booth.
It’s the Valentine’s Day Fair, and all Annabel, Mary, and I have been talking about for the past month. Plus the rest of the girls in school. I told Hendricks about it, and he told Miles, who told all the boys. Someone put it in the ideas box for the fair, though no one will admit who it was. And it was printed, so we couldn’t even tell from the handwriting.
The girls in the year above us designed it to look like a lemonade stand in the shape of a heart where you’d kiss a boy you liked, but after a couple of parents complained, it was scrapped.
Instead of kissing, it was decided we’d link the booth with the local pet shelter to encourage pet adoption.Everyone except Annabel loved that idea even more. Each pupil in our class is taking a turn to look after the booth and introduce visitors to the dogs where they can have a picture, and hopefully adopt a needy dog or donate money.
