26 Kisses by Anna Michels Read Free Book Online Page B

just a couple of months after that family reunion, and then he married Lila a year after that.
    “I know.” I shift my weight. “Anyway, I’m going over to Mel’s, if that’s okay.”
    “Of course!” Mom flashes a bright smile. “Go ahead.”
    I hesitate for a moment, one foot already out the door. “You sure?”
    “Definitely,” she says firmly, and I head back out to the car.
    Mel’s typing furiously on her phone, but she locks it and shoves it into her bra as I open the passenger side door.
    “What’s up?” I ask.
    “Nothing,” she says, but her eyes flick back up to the rearview mirror and I could almost swear I see the curtain in Seth’s bedroom window twitch.
    Mel clears her throat and starts the car, backing quickly down the driveway. “So have you changed your mind yet?” she asks as we’re driving through my neighborhood.
    I frown and pull out my phone, dragging my finger across the screen. “Changed my mind about what?”
    “Vee! Making a summer romance plan. Taking charge of your future. Scouting out hot guys to hook up with. Whatever you want to call it.”
    I scratch a mosquito bite on my ankle. “No, I have not changed my mind. And by the way, Adam has not texted, which is not helping to make me feel any better about the situation. I mean, he said he was going to call. So not even texting makes him a total ass, right?”
    “Hmmm.” Mel furrows her eyebrows. “Maybe he’s busy today. Or,” she points out, “he could still be asleep. I wish I were.”
    I sigh. “You know, I just don’t see how kissing a million different boys is going to make me feel better about Mark dumping me and triggering my OCD about an uncertain future, and dying alone and unloved.”
    Mel glances at me. “Didn’t you feel awesome last night when Adam kissed you? Like you were maybe ready to start thinking about moving on?”
    “Yes,” I admit. “But I don’t feel ready now. I feel pathetic. And desperate.”
    “Vee.” Mel pounds the steering wheel in exasperation. “ Desperate is sitting at home for the next three months, regretting the past three years of your life. Desperate is stalking Mark’s social media and obsessing over what he’s doing right this minute. Desperate is clinging to the idea he might someday want to get back together with you, and putting everything on hold until that day arrives, except it probably never will, and then you will die alone and unloved.” She pauses. “Except for me, of course. I’ll still love you.”
    “You know,” I say slowly, “someone else actually has kissed me since Adam did last night.”
    Mel gasps. “What? Are you serious?”
    “Yeah.” I grin. “You missed it, but my dad gathered up the courage to actually touch me, and I think his lips may have made contact with my head.”
    “Oh, come on,” Mel says. “That doesn’t count.” She goes quiet for a moment. “But actually . . .”
    “What?” I ask.
    “Shut up for a minute. I think I have an idea.” She turns up the radio and refuses to say anything more, a mischievous smile on her face.

    It’s not a long drive to Mel’s house, but our neighborhoods are so different, we might as well live twenty miles apart. My subdivision is newish, cheap, and cookie-cutter. Hers is old, picturesque, and quirky. Just a few blocks from downtown Butterfield, the Flaherty home is a small cottage with a peaked roof and a yard that’s almost entirely filled up with Manuela’s vegetable garden. Beans, peas, and even cucumbers grow up giant trellises nailed to the wooden siding, zucchini and squash plants flop their giant leaves over the ground, and lettuce, carrots, and radishes fill the spaces in between.
    “Pepper?” Mel grabs a tiny jalapeño off a plant near the front door and holds it out to me, then crushes it between her teeth when I shake my head. I love her mom’s food, but I don’t have the same kind of heat tolerance Mel’s Mexican side has built into her.
    “So tell me your big