There’s a certain comfort that comes from familiarity. Me trying to beat the shit out of Ellis was neither comforting nor familiar, but his reaction was. The way he’d pulled me tightly to his chest and enveloped me in his strong arms was how I’d longed to be held every night since he’d left me.
I should have carried on walking back inside. It would have been the smart thing to do, but hearing the panic in his voice when he thought I was leaving had stopped me in my tracks. I hadn’t expected him to climb up after me and it threw me. In fact, it did more than that—it completely infuriated me. Trying to engage in any type of conversation with him was a stupid idea. Doing so in such a volatile mood was downright senseless. I had no warning that he’d be showing up, and my emotions weren’t ready to be tested so brutally. I made a mental note to call Logan and ask if he’d known Ellis was coming.
Letting Ellis console me was a fatal mistake, especially given that he was the very reason I’d broken down in the first place. Still, as much as I hate him he’s the only person who’s ever known exactly what I need with just one glance. Was I really exuding how badly I needed to be held so blatantly? I hadn’t even recognized it until I found myself tucked into his chest as he rubbed my back and made me forget myself for a moment. His kiss broke the spell. I’m not sure how long I’d have let myself soak up the memorable scent of his skin and take refuge against the warmth of his chest. I’m ashamed and disgusted with myself, not for letting it happen, but for enjoying it. It was wrong.
His kiss, though… Damn him. Damn him to hell for kissing me. Damn him for chasing me down and not letting me leave. Damn him for holding me as I crumbled. Damn him for making me remember what it should feel like to be kissed.
1994
We didn’t say anything for a long while. We just stared at one another, trying to process what had just happened. One minute I’d been ready to tear my own arm off so I’d have something to hit him with for turning up on my first date. The next, I was thrown so far off guard that I couldn’t even form a cohesive thought.
He kissed me. Ellis Hughes had actually kissed me.
It wasn’t a dream; I was one hundred percent awake, and he freaking kissed me.
His mouth was softer than I’d ever imagined it would be. His kiss was like burying my face in a warm comfy pillow, and his breath tasted like the cinnamon gum he always chewed. Cinnamon was going to be my new favorite thing. I was going to run and buy gum so I wouldn’t forget the taste, I decided. Right after I remembered how to make my legs work. They turned to Jell-O the second he’d stepped forward, and I realized what he was about to do.
Ellis was staring at me; his mouth was moving and I knew he was forming words, words that I should have been able to decipher but couldn’t. The only thing I could hear was my mind shouting: He kissed you! He kissed you! He kissed you! And the frantic beating of my heart answering: I know! I know! I know!
He reduced me to a pile of raging hormones with a single brush of his lips. I was happy, angry, amazed, confused and every other emotion I’d ever experienced all at once. Ellis’s mouth was still moving, his eyes clouding with concern before me as I watched him.
“Harlow, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just… I don’t know. I’m so, so sorry.”
The momentary high I was suspended in disappeared like a sinking ship. The warmth that had flooded my skin turned cold and sent a sobering cold wave of insecurity racing down my spine.
“Why are you sorry? Is it because you kissed me?” I asked. “Don’t be, Ellis. Don’t apologize unless you wish that you hadn’t, and you want to take it back. I’m not sorry you did it.”
He smiled. It wasn’t a shy or unsure smile either; it was full and bright and dazzling. It was the smile he reserved and used solely for me.
“I don’t ever want to take it back,” he said, reaching out and taking hold of my right hand. He threaded his fingers loosely between my own. “Can I do it again?”
My pulse took off like a racehorse, and I wondered if he could feel it throbbing through the tips of my fingers. I was so sure he was apologizing because he’d made a mistake and the instant relief of knowing that wasn’t the case was jarring. My nerves were in tatters. I couldn’t believe he wanted to kiss me again.
“Not until you take me out on a real first date.”
“Well, technically that was our first date,” he grimaced.
“Nope, it was three friends at a movie—four, if you count our ride. It doesn’t count if there’re more than two people there.”
He squeezed my fingers lightly and laughed. “So, I still get to be your first date?”
A rush of warmth flooded my chest. “Yeah,” I replied, biting at the corner of my lip. “And if it’s good, you’ll get my second first kiss.” I pulled back my hand and turned, quickly hurrying across his lawn and back over to my house.
“It’ll be better than good!” he shouted as I reached the steps of the porch and threw him a cursory wave.
“Night, Ellis!” I stepped across to my door and out of his line of sight, leaning against the cold wood and letting myself sigh. It didn’t feel true; it was too perfect to be real life. I closed my eyes absorbing all that had happened. It felt like something straight out of a cheesy ‘80s film. I pressed my fingers to my lips, tracing over them with a ridiculously wide smile.
It was the best worst first date in the history of worst first dates.
After spending the night trying but failing miserably to fall asleep, I was sure I’d be somewhat of a write-off the next day. You know those people that can function on only a couple of hours’ sleep and still seem cheery and unaffected? Yeah, that wasn’t me—not even close. I’ve always needed a full eight hours of sleep to be able to perform even the most basic tasks. The consequence of falling short on my sleep quota is that my usually sunny disposition turns to thunder and hail. It’s not like I try to be mean, it’s just out of my control. By now my parents and brothers are used to the tirades of a tired Harlow, but Ellis had yet to witness it.
I’d woken the day after our kiss, and instead of being filled with excitement and butterflies, it felt as though my head had been filled with rocks. My throat hurt something fierce when I tried to swallow, and there wasn’t a single solitary spot on my entire body that didn’t ache. I practically rolled from my bed and headed sleep-blind down the stairs to the kitchen in search of my mom. I needed all the drugs she had, and quick.
“I’m dying,” I announced dropping into a chair at the table as she waited on the coffee pot to brew.
“So dramatic, Harlow. Good morning to you too, sweetheart.”
I lifted my face from where I’d planted it on the tabletop. The cool surface felt good pressed against my skin.
“No, really, Mom. I need medicine—all the drugs. And an ice pack for my head. Oh, and maybe a hot water bottle for my back. Everywhere hurts.”
“You do know it’s Sunday?” she asked, eyeing me suspiciously. “There’s no school to try get out of today.”
It wasn’t like I ever tried to not go to school; like I said, I just wasn’t a morning person. I’ve actually always loved school.
“I’m not joking, Mom,” I groaned.
She took my temperature very scientifically, using the back of her hand.
“You do feel a little on the hot side,” she confirmed dropping down beside me. “Have you eaten anything funny?”
“No,” I whimpered, placing my head back onto the table. “I was all right last night, but then I woke up feeling like this. I think maybe I have the flu.”
My dad walked into the kitchen and gave my mom a kiss on the cheek before leaning over and ruffling my hair in his usual greeting. I don’t think I’d ever wanted to kill a member of my own family until that very moment.
“Mike, no!” Mom scolded. “She’s not well.”
Her warning was too late. He’d already nuggied me, and I let out a strangled cry of distress, causing him to step back.
“Sorry, kiddo. I didn’t realize.”
I couldn’t have responded even if I’d wanted to, my head was swimming, and I was doing my best to ignore the nausea.
Mom instructed him to call the doctor’s office while she took me back to my room and helped me dress.
I had a feeling that she quite enjoyed playing dress-up with me. I was too exhausted to put up a fight when she pulled out of my closet a pale pink sundress she’d bought me (that I’d never worn) and a pair of gold flat sandals. My mother was the epitome of a “girly girl,” and I couldn’t have been more opposite. I didn’t bother to object and grab my jeans and sneakers, which pleased her to no end. I was dressed nicer to go to the doctor’s office than I had been to go out on my date. I did, however, draw the line when she attempted to fix my hair. The comb felt more like a gardening fork being pushed into my scalp. I swatted her away, not bothering to finish brushing it. I didn’t care if it looked bad; it would coordinate perfectly with my mood.
“Mono?” Mom looked at Dr. Peterson like he’d be speaking Chinese.
“Yes, mono,” he replied.
Her head slowly turned in my direction; you could practically see the suspicion bloom behind her narrowing eyes. I swallowed uncomfortably; she was definitely thinking the same thing I was. How had I contracted a kissing infection?
“Sorry, Doctor, but I’m confused,” I rasped. “I’ve kissed one boy, just one time—last night, in fact. How can I have a kissing disease from that one time?”
“Cory?” Mom asked surprised, her brows lifting to meet her impossibly neat blonde hairline.
“Ellis,” I whispered. Talking hurt, but not as much as the thought of Ellis passing on a kissing disease.
Dr. Peterson replied, breaking the uncomfortable exchange I’d gotten myself into.
“Here’s how mono works,” he said, looking from Mom to me. “It’s usually transmitted through saliva or mucus—hence the reason people refer to it as a kissing disease. However, the kissing or close contact that transmits the disease doesn’t happen right before you get sick. It takes thirty to fifty days from the time of exposure to begin to display symptoms. Coincidently, it’s not only kissing that can transmit it.”
I let out a relieved sigh, and Dr. Peterson smiled, sitting back into his desk chair.
“So what does?” Mom asked moving forward, poised for an explanation that better appeased her.
“Well, Mrs. Stevens, drinking from the same glass as an infected person, or even just being close when that person coughs or sneezes. Some people can carry the virus in their system without ever having symptoms and pass it on unknowingly.”
A further ten-minute interrogation of Doctor Peterson had transpired before we climbed into our car and Mom’s questioning swiftly turned on me. I’d used the restroom in the doctors’ office, knowing I needed a few minutes to process what was happening before Mom pounced. It took almost the entire car ride home to convince her that Ellis and I hadn’t been fooling around in secret, and were still only friends.
Even as I spoke the words I was unsure of the truth behind them. I didn’t really know what Ellis and I were—it may have only been one kiss, but it had changed everything for me. The problem was, I didn’t know if I was reading too much into it or not. What would happen the next time I saw him? Would he act differently? Would he try and kiss me hello? Were we supposed to hold hands now, or did we simply carry on as normal? The anxiety of trying to analyze what came next was almost as nauseating as the mono.
I assumed that since I’d most likely contracted the disease a month ago, Ellis would be sick too, or at least be displaying a few symptoms. It wasn’t the case. We’d been home for all of thirty seconds when Ellis knocked at the door. I was still slumped on the steps trying to unbuckle my shoes. The little gold fasteners may as well have been tiny combination padlocks because I couldn’t muster enough coordination to open them, and being bent over was making my head spin. I could see Ellis’s silhouette in the glass door pane and shouted with as much exertion as I could manage for him to come in.
Mom had disappeared somewhere out back, and the fifteen steps it would have taken to reach the door and answer it would have been my last, I was sure of it. The second Ellis noticed me sitting on the steps, his smile faltered and he quickly closed the distance between us, kneeling in front of me.
I’d never cared about how I looked or what people thought of me, but the second Ellis’s eyes scanned me over, I wished to God I’d been strong enough to let my mom rake a comb through my hair. I was clammy and hot, I couldn’t have smelled great, and he kneeled down way too close for me to do anything other than surrender to the fact that there was no hiding.
“You look sick, what’s wrong?” he asked.
I stopped fiddling with the fastener on my shoe, and let out a disgruntled moan, flopping back defeated.
“Mono, according to the doctor.”
Instead of moving away, he leaned forward and began gently taking off my sandals. I had a sudden urge to cry and swallowed roughly before thanking him. “I kind of thought that maybe you’d have it too, but you look fine. Are you feeling okay?”
“Better than you by the look of it,” he smiled sympathetically. “I’m good, but I guess if you’ve got it, then I’m probably gonna get it too, right?”
“Probably,” I sighed. “I’d tell you to stay away, but according to my doctor, I was more than likely contagious a month ago.”
He placed my sandals neatly at the foot of the stairs and moved around to sit by me. His whole left side was pressed up against my right, and I let myself lean into him a little.
“You know, for someone who’s sick you look lovely today.”
Ellis and I had never had the type of relationship where we complimented each other on how we looked; it just wasn’t us, but I basked in the comforting warm-heartedness his words blanketed me with. My hair was plastered to my forehead, and my chest was glistening with sweat, but he still thought I was pretty.
“Thanks.” I nudged him. “My mom took advantage and decided to play dress-up with me.”
“I guessed that,” he sniggered. “I can’t remember that last time I saw you in anything other than your sneakers.”
I stretched out my tired legs and wriggled my toes. “They’re practical and comfy,” I told him.
“Hey, no judgment here.” He smiled, flexing out his own legs and pointing down to his beat-up blue Chucks. “You want me to help you up to your room?”
“She’s fine, Ellis,” Mom interrupted as she walked into the hall carrying a glass of water and the bottle of Tylenol the doctor had advised. I was hoping for a magic set of pills and what I was prescribed may as well have been candy for all the good a couple of Tylenol would do me.
“I’d prefer it if you were downstairs,” she said, trying to engage in some sort of silent conversation with me. “You can go sit in the family room,” she added, passing me the water and pills. Ellis threw me a strange look as Mom walked back toward the kitchen.
“She knows we kissed,” I said, attempting to answer the “what’s with her” look on his face. Ellis Hughes didn’t have much of a poker face. You could read what he was thinking by looking at him ninety percent of the time. His eyes widened, and I swear he began to blush.
“She saw?” he whispered.
“I told her. I think she thought I may have caught mono from kissing Cory.”
“Right… Wait, does that mean she now thinks you caught it from me?”
I shrugged because honestly, I didn’t know what she was thinking. She’d never acted weird about Ellis’s and my friendship before. If anything, she’d always given me the impression she assumed we’d end up dating, like it was just a given.
“Do you think I gave you mono?” he asked.
“Honesty?”
His eyes were burning into my own, waiting for me to answer. “Always.”
“Okay, When the doctor first said I had it, I was sort of angry because I thought it was just a kissing thing, and you’re the only person that I’ve ever actually kissed,” I confessed, and didn’t miss the way his lips lifted slightly at one corner. “I thought that maybe it was your fault for about two minutes until he explained how you catch it, and how long the incubation period is. Then I guess I decided I didn’t mind if it was you or not. Thinking about it logically, it was more than likely one of the twins that passed it on. I’ve overheard them talking about their hook ups; seems like college is more about sex than study.”
He laughed and nudged gently into my arm, although he may as well have backed into me with his dad’s car, the way my body responded.
“Film in the family room?” he asked.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Sounds like a date,” he winked, pulling me up from the stairs. He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on my forehead before leading me out of the hall. It was a good thing he had a hold of my hand because even though seconds before my body had felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, his kiss made me feel like I might float away.