KITTY FELT A PANG OF DISAPPOINTMENT WHEN THE ALARM ON Donté’s phone went off. “Damn,” he said, silencing it. “I can’t believe it’s already six o’clock.”
“I know.” It had been a fantastic date, the kind that Kitty had believed existed only in romantic comedies and chick-lit novels. Two hours of conversation over burgers and sodas had never flown by so quickly, and she didn’t want it to end. They’d talked about everything, and found out they had a ridiculous amount in common. They both had two younger sisters, two working parents, and had been playing team sports all their lives. Two hours flew by without any awkward pauses or weird faux pas, and she was sorry to see it end.
“I’m sorry I had to bail on the movie tonight,” Donté said after he flagged down the waitress. “But play auditions are mandatory for drama class, and I kinda need the easy A.”
“It’s okay,” Kitty said.
“Kinda weird, us going on a date today, isn’t it?” Donté said.
Weird? Had their date been weird and Kitty hadn’t even realized it?
“After what happened at school,” Donté continued.
Kitty bit her lip. Ronny. That’s right. In the midst of her amazing date with Donté, Kitty had completely forgotten that a murder had been committed that may or may not be partially her fault. “Yeah,” she managed to say, her throat dry. “Awful.”
Adele’s “One and Only” came on the PA system, and Kitty jumped at the opportunity to change the subject.
“I love this song,” she said awkwardly.
Donté stared out the window, his eyes far away. “It was our song. Olivia’s and mine.”
“Oh.” Was he trying to tell her that he was still hung up on Olivia? Was this his way of telling her they were just friends? “I guess she was pretty special?” She couldn’t hide the question mark at the end of the sentence.
Donté sucked in a breath. “Crap, I’m sorry! I totally didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I wasn’t trying to bring up my ex.”
Kitty sat utterly still. Was she supposed to say something? Ask him to explain it to her? Dammit, why was she so indecisive all of a sudden?
Donté reached across the table and touched her hand. “I wasn’t thinking about Olivia at all. I promise. We broke up. It’s over.”
Kitty snorted. “Please, everyone knows she dropped you like third-period French.”
As soon as she blurted out the words, Kitty’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God!” she squeaked, her voice muffled by her palm. What did she just do? If Donté hadn’t lost interest before, he’d hit the eject button now for sure.
But instead of getting defensive, Donté tossed his head back and laughed. “I know, I know,” he said. “That was the rumor and I didn’t correct it. I think Livvie’s friends were putting pressure on her to dump me.” He stopped laughing and leaned back against the booth, smiling. “The truth is I broke up with her.”
“But you guys were the perfect couple.”
Donté shrugged. “I guess that’s what people thought, but Olivia and I never really gelled. We were always going to parties or out with her friends. It was never just the two of us, and I felt like I was always acting, pretending to be the kind of boyfriend she wanted.”
“Oh.” Kitty couldn’t think of anything else to say. The most beautiful girl at school getting dumped by the boy who just took her on the best date of her life was a difficult concept to wrap her head around.
“But it’s not like that with you.” Donté passed his hand over his closely shaved head and leaned toward her. “I had an awesome time today.”
“Me too.” She’d half-thought she was imagining that the date was going well, especially since she jabbered away like a lunatic most of the time, and it was a relief to know that despite her lack of social experience, she wasn’t the only one who’d had a good time.
“And you won’t get in trouble with Coach Miles?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.
Kitty shook her head. “We get to miss one practice each semester, no questions asked.”
Donté laughed again. “Me too! This was the best use of my free pass ever.”
The check came and Donté slapped some bills on the table, then stood up and offered Kitty his hand. “Can I walk you to your car?”
Neither of them said a word as they approached Kitty’s hand-me-down Corolla, the first time that day there had been silence between them. Kitty wasn’t sure what it meant. Was Donté bored with her? Or was he debating whether or not to ask her out again?
Please ask me out again. Please, please, please.
They reached the door, and Donté turned to face her. “So, how would you feel about doing it again? Maybe this weekend?”
“I’d like that,” she said, trying not to sound relieved.
“Good.” Donté cupped her chin with his hand and tilted her face upward to meet his. Simply gazing into his enormous brown eyes made her legs turn to jelly. He traced her lips with his thumb and they buzzed beneath his touch; then he leaned down and kissed her.
Donté touched Kitty as if she were fragile but not frail. One hand held her firmly at the small of her back, the other was behind her neck—his fingers laced into her thick hair. The effect was electric, charged like a thunderstorm rolling across her body. Her mind turned to putty and her heart skipped a beat as if it too was having a hard time keeping its mind on what it was supposed to be doing.
Donté was the first boy to kiss her since Marty Heffernan in sixth grade, who had to stand on a stepstool to reach her face, and who’d mistakenly thought that “slipping her the tongue” meant licking Kitty’s cheek. The Donté version was less sloppy and significantly sexier.
He pulled his lips away. “Damn,” he whispered.
Damn? “Is that good?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said softly.
“Oh. Okay.”
“You’re cute.”
Kitty sighed. Well, if she was going to act like a total spaz on their first date, at least he found it adorable.
Donté leaned toward her. “I wish I didn’t have to leave.”
“But you do.” Kitty unlocked her car door and swung it open. “Good luck at the audition.”
“Break a leg,” Donté corrected. “That’s what the actors say.”
Kitty headed straight to her room the second she got home and flopped down on her bed, her head spinning. Donté Greene had kissed her! She’d dreamed about that moment for months, but he seemed so out of her league. Homecoming court, captain of the basketball team, member of the ’Maine Men.
Donté was a ’Maine Man.
Kitty sat straight up as her stomach dropped. She and Donté—it could never work. He was part of the ’Maine Men, specifically created to bring about the downfall of Don’t Get Mad. A group that she started. Even if he hadn’t been Olivia’s ex-boyfriend, they were on opposite sides of the net.
She needed to stop now before she got in too deep. She’d text Donté and tell him she couldn’t see him anymore. Blame it on her parents, her grades, anything. She dug through her duffel bag, searching for her cell phone, and halted abruptly. Shoved between her spiral notebook and pencil case was a large manila envelope.
It looked like the kind of envelopes that piled up in her in-box on the leadership desk, used by Mrs. Baggott to convey official administrative memos. Only those were generically addressed to “Student Leadership.” This one had Kitty’s name on it.
She broke the seal on the flap and turned it upside down.
Kitty watched a newspaper clipping flutter out of the envelope and rest faceup on her bedspread. It was a short article, simply titled “Archway Student Goes AWOL.”
Archway Military Academy. Had Margot found new information on why Ronny left Archway?
She scanned the article. Yes, an Archway student had gone AWOL.
Only it wasn’t Ronny DeStefano.
Who the hell was Christopher Beeman?
