How to Ruin Series Part 19

Being a good kisser has a direct correlation to how much you like the person you're kissing.

Walking with att.i.tude over to the kayak place is hard while I have a sinking feeling in my stomach I'm not going to get out of this situation alive. But at least Snotty will come in my kayak; I see they're only made for two.

Listen, I know if I sink everyone will be happy, including my cousin. Too bad for her if I go down, she goes with me.

I watch carefully as Doo-Doo and Ofra get into the first kayak. It seems unstable, to say the least. The kayak is not one of those hard plastic-made ones, it's a blow- up rubber one. Whoever the h.e.l.l thought of a blow-up kayak is one dumb sucker.

Don't they know one sharp stick poking it or a hungry piranha and the kayak will pop?

"You okay?" Avi asks. I look at him and he's wearing a blue Nike bathing suit with a white stripe down the sides.

I give him a look. "Of course I'm okay,"

I say. "What would make you think I'm not okay?"

They're all looking at me like I'm a mashed potato.

"Get in," Snotty says as she tosses our backpacks into the kayak.

My eyes dart back and forth between her and the guy who's launching the inflatable kayaks. He looks like he'll push me in if I don't move faster.

"Do you need a life vest?" the guy asks me.

Yes. "No. But this kayak is running out of air," I say as I point to the floating thing.

"I think it has a hole in it."

Kayak-Man has the audacity to actually snicker at me until Avi jerks the life vest out of the guy's hand and says to me, "Get in. I'll help you."

"O'snot's going with me," I counter.

Then I look at Avi over the top of my sungla.s.ses. "You're going with O'dead."

I say this then push my sungla.s.ses back up.

Before I realize what he's doing, Avi picks me up and throws me like a bale of hay over his shoulder. Then he jumps right into the kayak. It's wobbly and I'm scared and I'm clawing at him and I'm yelling obscenities.

He sets me down on the bottom of the kayak and pushes off with one of the oars.

"Why did you do that?!" I scream, obviously having a very hard time controlling my fear.

He ignores me and keeps paddling our kayak down the river, letting O'dead and O'snot pa.s.s us.

"Put on the jacket. It's gonna get rough,"

he says after he's been paddling for a few minutes.

I thread my arms through the holes, but I can't click the belt shut.

"My b.o.o.bs are too big for this thing," I say irritably. "It doesn't fit."

He steers the kayak to the side of the river and holds on to a branch to stop us from moving forward. "Lean toward me,"

Avi says.

I expect him to make some comment about my cleavage which now, thanks to the life jacket, resembles b.u.t.t cheeks. But he doesn't. Instead, he leans forward and takes the straps, loosens them to make them longer, and fastens them.

When I realize we're not moving and are still against the bank of the river, I look up. Avi is still close to me, his face inches from mine.

Suddenly I start to feel something in the pit of my stomach. Like I'm going to be sick, but not.

He's watching me intensely and his nearness is making me dizzy. Then he leans closer and closer.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

He touches his fingers lightly to my cheek and all I can think about is the softness of his fingertips on my skin.

"I'm going to kiss you," he explains.

At first, I'm dumbfounded.

"I have a boyfriend," I blurt out softly.

"I know," he says as he rubs my lip gently with his thumb.

"And . . . and you're a jerk most of the time."

His lips are so close I can feel the heat of them.

"Amy?"

"Yeah," I say nervously.

"Stop talking so I can kiss you."

Before I can answer with some smart- a.s.s remark, his lips are on mine. And when I say it's nothing like I've ever felt before, I mean it.

I have to be detailed here so you get the whole picture.

So one hand of his is on my face, cupping it gently as if it was porcelain and could break at the slightest touch. Then he slowly brushes his lips against mine, almost as if he's painting each part of my mouth with his.

It's wonderful. It's intoxicating. And it's totally intense to the point that my mind is reeling out of control. Mitch never kissed me like he would treasure and memorize my lips forever.

When he slowly pulls back and drops his fingers from my cheek, I say, "Why did you do that?"

His mouth twists into a wry smile. "Why did I kiss you or why did I stop kissing you?"

"The first one."

He settles on his seat in the kayak and leans back. I hear the birds chirping in the trees and the wind shaking the leaves. As if they're whispering about what just happened between me and Avi. I wonder what they're saying.

"You needed it," he finally says.

Somewhere in all of this my sungla.s.ses have fallen off and are resting on the bottom of the kayak. I s.n.a.t.c.h them up and push them back on the bridge of my nose before he can tell what I'm truly feeling.

"Excuse me?" I say. I needed to be kissed? What the h.e.l.l kind of comment is that?

He pushes the kayak away from the bank of the river, picks up an oar, and starts paddling. Then he hands me the other oar.

What I really want to do is bang him over the head with the thing. Instead, I yank my oar from his grip and say dumbly, "You kissed me."

He shrugs and paddles some more, the muscles in his arms flexing each time he strokes against the small current. "Just forget about it."

As if I could. That wasn't just some little peck-that was like a slam dunk in the NBA playoffs. And it wasn't even a French kiss, but it was more intimate. I don't know exactly what I was feeling during it. My whole being, my whole spirit, was involved. Not just my lips. I know I'm sounding like a geek, even to myself. And before you think it, it wasn't the four-letter word called love.

"Amy?" he says.

"What?" I think he's going to apologize and tell me our kiss was a soul-searching experience and it's changed his life forever.

"Hold on."

"As in 'wait, I have something to tell you'?" I ask.

"As in 'hold on to the kayak, we're reaching the rapids.'"

23.

If you start a fight, I'll finish it.

If I tell you my life just flashed before my eyes, I'd be telling you the truth. Even Avi's kiss seems like a million years ago as I turn around and see the running waves, the bubbling water, and the white, foamy top to the rapids.

"I don't want to die!" I screech.

"You're not going to die," he says loudly above the sound of the ma.s.sive rush of water. "Just stay on that side of the kayak so we don't tip over."

"I can't swim," I admit to him.

"You have a life jacket on. Just relax. If we tip you'll be safe."

"I'm scared." And all I want to do is have him hold me so I feel safe. I close my eyes tightly as I hold a deathgrip on the sides of the kayak.

"Don't worry, I'd never let anything happen to you. Just talk to me and it'll be over before you know it."

"What do you want me to talk about?" I say.

Does he want me to tell him where I want to be buried or who I'd like to say my eulogy after we DIE in this river? I think he might not be able to hear me because I know he's working hard by the way the kayak is maneuvering around the rapids.

"Tell me about your mom."

Not the best start to a conversation at this moment. I guess it's better than talking about my burial.

"She's going to marry her boyfriend."

"You don't like the guy?"

"Not really," I say emphatically.

"So move in with your aba."

I open my eyes. "My aba?"

"You know . . . Ron. Aba is father in Hebrew."

"I know that. But I'm for sure not moving in with him."

"Doesn't he live in Chicago?"

"Yeah."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that he's not my father.

Biologically speaking, maybe. We have a lot to work out between us before he can be considered a real father."

"If you say so," he says matter-of-factly.

I'm suddenly aware we've pa.s.sed the rapids and are now slowly gliding down the river.

"Don't tell me Moses survived going down this river in a basket as a newborn,"

I say.

He throws his head back and gives a hardy laugh, the first I've seen or heard from him.

"That would be the Nile River, Amy."

"Yeah, well I'll stick to bathtubs.

They're much less dangerous."

We ride the rest of the way in silence and I rest my head on the rim of the kayak.