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bird feeder. “You know that’s not it,”says Russ. “For a girl with such a high opinion of herself, you’ve got a real insecure side. I like you, Priscilla.”I whirl around to face him. “So that’s why you walked away with Katie the second you heard her voice?”I ask. He looks down at the island, staring at the candy jar like there’s an adequate response in there, between the red Twizzlers and the purple Nerds packs. A good ten seconds pass. If he’s not going to argue with me anymore, it’s going to be a lot easier to let him go. But then he starts talking again. “It wasn’t like that,”he says. “We had stuff

Lovestruck Summer

211 to discuss. When she left at the beginning of the summer, I was really angry. Things are okay now—they’re more clear. Katie and I are over. For real.”“Is that why she was crying outside your door last night?”I ask. “Are you trying to make this as painful as possible?”asks Russ. “No,”I say. “I don’t think this needs to be painful at all. At least not for me, because I’m not involved. And I don’t even know why you’re telling me any of this—it’s between you and Katie, whatever your relationship is.”Russ bangs his hand on the island, and I jump. “Damn, Priscilla,”he says. “I’m telling you it’s over with her. And if you’d shut up for a minute I’d be able to tell you it’s because of you.”I stare at the candy jar now, my eyes riv- eted to the peppermint swirls and the miniature Krackel bars for a nanosecond, the time it takes for me to regain my footing and remember that I don’t care. “Spare me,”I say. I’m not strong enough when I say it—even I can hear the noncommittal

212 tone I’m using. I mean for it to end the conver- sation, to shut him up. But it doesn’t. “Priscilla,”Russ says, his voice pleading. “You’re different, and fun, and unlike any girl I’ve ever met. I thought I’d never laugh so hard as when we talked. You’re smart as a whip and stubborn as a mule!”And then he’s smiling at me with those big dimples, blue eyes twinkling like he thinks he’s got this one in the bag, that I’m about to run over and kiss him with relief and joy. He has ditched the ex-girlfriend for good! He has chosen me! But the timing is wrong. This isn’t our moment. Past where Russ sits I can see the rum- pled blankets from Sebastian’s night here. “I appreciate it,”I say. “It’s nice that you were so . . . impressed by my whip-and-mule- like qualities.”Russ looks confused. “And I’m glad it helped clear things up with Katie too,”I continue. “I mean, closure is always good, right?”I give him a friend smile, resisting the urge to pat him on the shoulder. That would be overkill. He still doesn’t say anything.

213 “Listen, Russ,”I say. “I’m sorry that I kissed you last week. It was stupid. I’ll take full respon- sibility for my complete lack of judgment.”“But didn’t you want . . .”he starts. And for the fi rst time, I see that he’s unsure of what he’s saying. He’s almost stuttering. “I mean, didn’t you feel something?”I take another bite of apple to keep myself from blurting out Yes, you moron! I felt EVERYTHING. But what I really say is: “Sure. I felt a little tipsy.”I say this with my mouth full, which allows me to control my expression as I lie. I’m a bad liar, but food props help. “I mean, it was just a kiss.”I walk over to the trash can and throw out the core, wiping my hands on my shirt after it’s gone. When I turn back to him, I hear a sigh on his lips. He looks sadder than Katie did yester- day, even with those streaks all down her pow- dery face. He stands up to leave, walking over to the sliding glass door, ready to exit through the back. He opens it halfway. I’m standing by the sink, concentrating on picking apple bits out of my fi n- gernails, but I can feel him turn to face me.

214 “It was more than a kiss to me,”says Russ. “Just so you know.”Then he leaves and closes the door behind him. I wait a couple minutes, frozen, examining my fi ngernails. When I’m sure he’s gone, I walk into the living room and press PLAY on the iPod, letting it shuffl e to any song it chooses. Then I fl op down on the couch with my head buried in a pillow. I hate crying out loud.

215 Chapter 19 By the time Penny gets home, I’m banging around the kitchen. I’ve dried my tears from this morning—I will not let Russ ruin my summer! I’m making chocolate chip cookies, which is the only homemaker-y thing my mom ever did with me when I was little. There’s something very calming about measuring oil, sifting flour, and dropping little spoon-sized plops of dough onto a baking sheet. It’s a cathartic ritual, and I’m primed for some catharsis. Maybe I’ll even bring some cookies to Sebastian later. I wonder if he would think that was weird. “Ooh, chocolate chip!”says my cousin, clapping her hands together and perching on the island stool. “What brought out your inner Donna Reed?”“Nothing,”I say, watching Miss Tiara jump

216 into her lap. I have the dog dressed in an apron that matches the pink-checked one I’m wearing. It’s Penny’s, of course, and I almost can’t believe I actually dressed up the dog, but I think we look cute together, in a make-me-wanna-puke and I’d-never-let-anyone-see-me-in-this kind of way. “Okay, so good goss,”says Penny, leaning across the island and pinching a bit of dough and chips between her fi ngers. I slap her hand quickly as I await her “goss.”“Russ broke up with Katie,”she says in a whisper, raising her eyebrows expectantly, and ignoring my slap. “I know,”I say, turning around

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