The Forget-Me-Not Summer by Leila Howland Read Free Book Online Page B

Marigold’s personal favorite, the Periwinkle Pie Shop, the oldest pie shop in Los Angeles.
    She also loved the knickknack stores because she could always find at least one thing that she could afford with her allowance, like a package of stickers to seal the notes she passed in class or a piece of English toffee. And of course she loved the fancy outdoor mallbehind the Farmers Market. It had all the coolest clothing stores. Even if she couldn’t buy anything, it was still fun to try stuff on.
    The girls were going to the Farmers Market to get something delicious and discuss their summer plans. At least that was the story. What they were really doing, Pilar said, was meeting up with Alex Key, the cutest seventh-grade boy at Epiphany, the boys’ school down the street from Miss Hadley’s. Alex Key had dark-blond hair and eyes the color of green Jolly Ranchers, and he smelled ever so faintly of Right Guard “fresh scent” deodorant (Pilar and her sharp nose had memorized the scent when they all were dancing to a fast song at the Winter Snowball, reported back, and initiated a research investigation at Rite Aid). He could snowboard, skateboard, breakdance, and beatbox. Now that he’d gotten his braces off and had a cool surfer haircut, Pilar had nicknamed him California Dreamin’, after the Mamas and Papas song that played on her grandma’s favorite radio station once an hour.
    Pilar had heard through the Miss Hadley’s grapevine that Alex Key thought Marigold was cute. Despite her own crush on him, Pilar was determined that someone should go out with Alex Key, even if she wasn’t the one. She also knew that Marigold, who was prone to shyness around the opposite sex, had never held hands with a boy. Pilar wanted her friends to be in the loop and on the cutting edge. Pilar wanted Marigold to get kissed.
    So did Marigold.
    In fact, when she hadn’t been thinking about landing a part in Night Sprites , she had been thinking about kissing.
    Marigold’s secret was that she had been kissed a month ago on Seasons . Thankfully, the scene had been cut, so no one knew about it. When she’d read the kissing moment in the script, she put a hand over her mouth and yelped. Her belly clenched. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to kiss anyone. Especially not Martin Goldblatt, the young actor who played the boy. He was only eleven! And he chewed with his mouth open! But she was too shy to voice her concern. Ronald P. Harp had taught her to always be professional. So when the director called action, Marigold ignored her churning stomach, puckered up, and touched her tremulous lips with Martin Goldblatt’s. Even though their mouths were closed, she could smell the nachos he had eaten at the craft services table. His hand was on her knee, and it was so light that it tickled her.
    â€œDid you fart?” he asked afterward. She stared at him unable to speak. Had she? She wasn’t sure. It was true that something didn’t smell right. But before she could deny it or defend herself, he was back at the craft services table, eating more nachos. She speed walked toward her dressing room and nearly knocked over Clint Lee on the way.
    â€œHey, you okay?” Clint asked.
    â€œYeah,” she said, and bit her lip.
    â€œYou sure?” Clint asked. Marigold nodded. Clint put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Just remember, that was your character’s first kiss”—he looked her in the eye and gave her shoulder a light squeeze—“not yours.” She nearly burst into tears of pure relief.
    â€œSo it’s like it never happened?” she asked.
    â€œThat’s right.” He smiled his magical smile, the very one that earned him millions, and she felt her cheeks burn. Suddenly she wanted him to kiss her.

12. Real Kiss
    I n fact, kissing had been on Marigold’s mind ever since her run-in with Clint. She’d even practiced on her pillow