What A Kiss Is

Chapter Three

I don’t want him to know what it’s actually like—not that it’s bad or anything. I’m sure it’s nice for a sailboat, but it’s embarrassing that half of my family lives like this. My friends freak out if someone has to move too far south in the same city. But here? I’m a long way from Manhattan.  

“Hello again.” Lynn waves from the dock.

I jump to sitting when her daughter smiles from behind her.

“Uh, hi. Dad went in to get something before you guys took off.” I stuff my phone in my pocket.

“This is my daughter, Amber.”

Amber isn’t in shorts today, but her jeans are snug, and her legs are still amazing. Her thick blond hair is pulled into a ponytail.

I stand, and it feels like I should be polite and shake her hand or something, but I’m way up on the boat, and they’re on the dock. “Hey, I’m…”

“Antony, I know. Your Dad’s been talking about you coming since he found out.” There’s nothing but relaxed normal in Amber’s eyes.

I’m almost…offended. Is that the right word? Girls usually react to me in some way. Small smiles, biting their lower lip, something. She’s looking at me like I could be her brother, or like she’s somehow better than me. The girl who lives on a boat.

I chuckle. Unbelievable.

“We ready?” Dad climbs out.

“Yeah,” I say. I’m sort of unnerved that this girl isn’t looking at me. And hanging out on Dad’s boat alone all day suddenly doesn’t sound like much fun.

“Oh,” He turns to me with a smile. “Glad you’re tagging along.”

I shrug.

- - -

After a few polite questions back and forth in the backseat of Dad’s car, Amber pulls out a Kindle. A Kindle makes you look like a dork. I read a lot, but at least I do it on my iPad—way less nerdy. And no one knows I’m reading a book. She doesn’t seem bothered. She’s in a worn old pair of jeans and shoes that look like running shoes. Like she just threw something on this morning and left.

She pulls a knee up to rest her head against, and I’m glad she’s not wearing shorts, because there’s no way I’d be able to focus. She’s pretty damn flexible.

The vibration of the phone in my pocket brings me back to reality. I pull it out and spend a few more minutes texting to David and my occasional on/off girl, Gem, back in New York. I want them to know how lame this is, without actually knowing the reality.

Dad and Lynn talk non-stop in the front seat. They’re practically speaking in a foreign language of Garmin, props, and furlings.

“Wha’cha reading?” I ask Amber as we stop.

“The Maze Runner. James Dashner. You know it?” Her eyes catch mine, and I stare again. I really, really need to stop reacting to them. She doesn’t strike me as a girl who would be up for a little fun, so she needs to be left alone.

“It’s a great book.” But I’m also a bit surprised. I figured her for a girly book kind of girl. The Maze Runner is sort of a kick-ass guy book.

“Don’t ruin it for me. I hear the ending’s awesome.” Her mouth pulls into a small smile, but there’s no flirt in it at all. I must be losing my touch.

We step out in front of a store called West Marine.

“I’m gonna let you two play in the candy store. I’m headed out to pick up a few books.” Amber smirks at her mom.