Sam Cruz's Infallible Guide to Getting Girls Part 22

I mime zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

He shakes his head. "No. Speak. Otherwise I'll just feel your tension."

This is what you get when you date a guy whose single mom is a New Age pract.i.tioner. Whatever the h.e.l.l that means. It seems to involve a lot of flaky language.

Give me "bow chicka wow wow" anytime.

"It's no big deal," I tell him. "I just wanted to speed up the game a bit so that I could invite you over to watch the Na'vi save their tree."

He shrugs in an "I have no idea what you're talking about" way.

That can't be right.

"Avatar? Eco-positive mega hit?" I prompt.

"G.o.d," he groans. "Not sci-fi."

I can't be hearing this right. "What's wrong with sci-fi? You want to be a robotics engineer."

"Not you, too. I've been fighting that prejudice my whole life."

"You're eighteen. I hardly think you've had to take to the streets over this."

Adam gets tight-lipped and takes his turn.

Seriously? I talk to Sam like this all the time. Man up, buddy.

After bowling a spare, which apparently is a ma.s.sive failure that is all my fault, he sits down sulkily on the plastic chair beside me.

I have no desire to have a fight over a stupid movie, even if it is excellent and he should totally get over himself and watch it. "What would you like to watch?"

"Wrestling." His face lights up. "But first I'll take you to this great raw foods place."

"I'm actually more of a cooked foods kind of girl."

"Yeah. You'd do great with a cleanse," he informs me.

Lucky lucky me.

The night totally sucked. I tried to muster up enthusiasm for roidheads throwing each other to the floor and cold veggies but all I could think about was one of Matt's teriyaki bowls.

I'm not going to cave in to my baser instincts, though, and am determined to prove to Adam I can stick with the program.

That doesn't keep me from stopping by the diner on my way home from school the next day for a healthy cranberry juice. I can just sit and smell all the yumminess without falling off the wagon.

Sam has come with me and he's chowing down on fries.

Everything feels normal between us. Status quo restored.

"Want to go bowling?"

I suppress an involuntary shudder. "No thanks. I've done enough of that for a while."

I guess I'm leaning over a little too close to smell his French fry goodness. Or maybe he notices how fixated I'm staring at them, because he pushes the plate closer to me.

"Just take one."

I sigh. "I can't. I'm doing a cleanse."

"Why?"

Why indeed. Because I'm trying to impress my new boyfriend? Because I'm trying to show I have willpower? Because I'm trying to be a better human being?

"Adam thought it would be good for me."

"Told you he wasn't the one for her," I hear Matt say to Rosie.

I flip him the finger.

Rosie winks at me then tells Matt, "Don't gloat. You get a double chin."

So much for being on my side. I can't flip her the finger because she's like my grandma.

I turn my attention back to Sam who is, at the moment, my only friend in this dump.

"How are things with you? Out manwhoring around?"

"You know me," he replies.

That's not an actual answer. I'm not sure what to follow up with, however, so there is this awkward silence between us.

I throw a subtle glance at his fries.

He picks one up and holds it out to me. "Eat it, already."

"No. I've committed to this and I need to see it through."

"Like you did with becoming a player? *Help me, Sam. You're the master, Sam.'" He pops the fry in his mouth.

Seriously? "What didn't I see through?"

"Everything."

"I tried it. It was fine."

"Really? Because you sounded like it was more than fine."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Matt perk up so I whip up a hand to shut him down. Don't even go there right now, mister.

"Are you mad because I'm not living my life according to your wisdom or because we're not sleeping together?"

I refuse to admit which one I want him to pick. Okay. Yes. I want him to want to sleep with me. Ever since I found out he hung with Nikki, I've felt like I was demoted in his life. So yes, the petty side of me wants to see Mr. Calm, Cool, and Get-the-h.e.l.l out have his feathers ruffled by little ole me.

That's dominance, baby.

Just one small sign. Then I'll go back to equality on all fronts.

"This is stupid," he says, picking up another fry and bringing it right up near my mouth. "If it's not making you happy, then don't do it."

I'm not sure if he's talking about the fry, Adam, or what.

He pops the fry in my mouth. "Chew."

I do. I moan in delight.

Sam leans in slightly, probably in horrified fascination of how o.r.g.a.s.mic I'm finding this French fry.

I swallow and look at him, hoping for another fry.

He hesitates.

"Here it comes," Rosie says in a low voice but loud enough to catch.

Goody. More fries.

No. Sam's kiss.

It's the sweetest kiss I've ever had.

I'm melting inside. Nothing has ever been so perfect.

It's totally different from every other kiss we've had. Not throw me down and take me now.

But scarily way more intimate.

And that realization hits us at the same time because we both stop kissing and freeze.

Except our lips still touch. They're not doing anything other than being pressed against each other.

My eyes scan back and forth rapidly, somewhat panicked.

Sam seems to hang there, doing a perfect impression of a Medusa victim who has been turned to stone.

And yet, there we sit, connected at the mouth but not doing anything except breathing at each other.

This is now the worst, most awkward kiss ever.

Matt makes a noise of disgust, which jars us out of our purgatory smooch.

I move my gla.s.s of juice at the same moment Sam fumbles and the red liquid gets sloshed all over the table.

We scramble apart.

"And there it went," Rosie comments, not even bothering to be subtle about it.

"I gotta get home," I mutter, grabbing up my stuff.

"Me too," Sam says, not moving.

I race for the door, head down, brain racing.

That kiss wasn't supposed to happen with Sam. That kiss was supposed to happen with Adam. Or some other future boyfriend.

Because that kiss, that once in a lifetime perfect kiss, is only supposed to happen with someone you truly, shamelessly, unconditionally love.

f.u.c.k!.

Chapter twenty-seven.

I'm forcing myself to not think about that mindf.u.c.k of a kiss as Ally races out.

Matt comes over, presumably to wipe up the cranberry juice, but mostly to swat me upside the head.

"What?" I snarl.

He shakes his head. "You disappoint me, young man."

I toss money on the table to cover our bill and leave without replying.

What did he think would happen? Cue cheesy music as I declare my eternal love for Ally? Sorry, man. I don't roll that way.

No biggie. We got past s.e.x, we'll get past one stupid kiss. Besides, Ally has Adam to distract her.

But just to be safe, I lay low the rest of the week. I don't want to embarra.s.s Ally in case she gets all emotional. So I give her time to calm down.

Meantime, I'm focused on moving on to my next conquest. And Etienne's party that Friday night is the perfect place to find her.

Lights blaze and music thumps as I head up Frenchie's front walk. The party is pumping.