The Legend List

Chapter Eight

I suddenly feel very awkward about my arms- do I use them to keep floating? Do I break into an amateur hula dance? Do I tangle them through his hair like they do in every raunchy rom-com? The familiar rush of anxiety floods in, and I try to swallow the lump in my throat before Brandon notices how panicked I am.

Our faces are dangerously close now, and Brandon closes his eyes. I make a decision about my arm placement, wrapping them around his neck just in time for our lips to touch. My lips. Brandon's lips. Actually touching for non life-saving purposes.

It's soft at first, and then Brandon must get more comfortable because he decides to pick up the pace. I was waiting for the moment- the big, fireworks moment where I replayed the memories of Brandon and I from earlier in the night in a romantic montage to a catchy love song, and knew for sure that he was the guy for me. But by the time he pulls away, I feel less like a woman in love and more like a soggy teenager who can't tell if that kiss was actually enjoyable.

I don't have any frame of reference considering up until five seconds ago nobody's mouth had ever been this close to mine. But I'm pretty sure you're supposed to feel– something. And by something, I don't mean Brandon Sanchez's tongue– because I definitely felt that. But there was none of that summer camp spark that Gwen was always going on about. None of the heat Mom had felt with the director.

It had to be me. I'm thinking too much, reading so far into it that I forgot to actually enjoy it. Maybe I need to try again and just be in the moment.

"Harper?" Brandon loosens his grip. "What's wrong?"

Oh God. I must have that look on my face that I get whenever I start overthinking- I get this really unattractive wrinkle between my eyebrows and my eyes glaze over like they do when Gwen starts talking about seam allowance. "Nothing. Sorry. Just thinking about doing that again."

Before I ruin the date of my dreams and any chance I have to make this thing with Brandon work, I do the only logical thing I can think of and go in for a second kiss. But this one is somehow even less extraordinary than the first.

Brandon doesn't seem to think so, because we spend the next little while floating around and doing even more kissing. I start to wonder if I really am all that attracted to Brandon. We've gone to school together since the second grade, but things started to shift a few years later when I stopped seeing him as the loud kid who always carried around a baseball glove and started seeing him as the charismatic prankster with perfect hair.

But the more I float here and think about it, the more I'm struggling to come up with any reason I like Brandon other than his flawless face and charming personality. We have pretty much nothing in common, and the reality of actually dating Brandon meant having to sit through constant baseball games and that was definitely not something I was ready to suffer through. I'm also pretty sure Brandon isn't really the type to spend weekends with me at the museum while I talk his ear off about how I'm fascinated by ancient artifacts. Even the pool is starting to feel less spectacular by the second.

By the time we dry off and go back into the house, I start to question why I was even sitting here on the Sanchez's fancy chaise in a stranger's bathing suit. Or why Brandon decided to play a heavy metal playlist on a date. Or why he comes back into the room with two glasses of kombucha as if I'm actually going to drink something that's burning my nostrils before I even put the cup to my mouth.

"It's really good for you." Brandon says before he chugs down the entire glass in one gulp.

I suddenly have no idea what I'm doing here. I hate this stupid kombucha. I hate this chaise. I hate the fact that I had left my friends to go to a party where I promised I'd meet them over an hour ago, and instead I was sitting here with a guy who wasn't interested in me until two days before I left town.

"Hey, Brandon?"

He slowly leans back on the couch. Yesterday, a move like that would've had my heart racing. But now it was as mundane as our kiss. A solid C+. "Do you remember what I did in the tenth grade talent show?"

If we hadn't run into him at the movies earlier, would Brandon have ever asked me out? If Brandon was actually interested in me, what was stopping from doing it literally any other time these past few years? The guilt is like a thousand pound weight on my shoulders. If Brandon doesn't really like me, and I had ditched Seth and Gwen for this, I am the actual worst person on Earth. Worse than the people who litter out their car windows. Worse than the people who wear white to other people's weddings. Oh my God- I'm worse than Emmy Cruz.

Across the room Brandon is smiling at me and expertly dodging my last question.

"For real."

"The tenth grade talent show?" He raises an eyebrow. "That was so long ago, I can't remember what anybody did. Why?"

The tenth grade talent show was a big day for me- it was one of the first times I had stood up on a stage, even if it was just in front of the rest of my class. I had been practicing a tap dance routine for weeks to a Drake song that I heard Brandon listening to one morning at his locker. I wanted to do something cool that would get his attention– a not-so-subtle chance to show Brandon that I was interested. I was the last one up, and I spent the whole show backstage working on my breathing exercises so that I wouldn't be too nervous when my turn finally came.

But Brandon was so busy staring at Ashley Hussar's cleavage that he managed to miss my entire routine– and I had really nailed it. After winning runner-up, tons of other kids came up to me in the hall and told me how much they loved my act. But Brandon never had. He didn't even see me. Not in the stunning tap costume Gwen handmade me out of an old shower curtain, and not now.

"I tap danced."

"Seriously? Cool."

I need to get out of here and go find my friends before I make any other bad decisions tonight. I head for the stairs, and Brandon is right behind me.

"Hey, hey-"

He follows me into his room where I gather up my costume. On my way to the bathroom, he reaches out for my arm.

"Why don't you stay? We could watch a movie or something."

For a second, I consider changing my mind. But the thought of Gwen and Seth waiting for me at Emmy's party is the only thing I care about right now. They were front and center for the talent show. They're always front and center, no matter what I'm doing. And I had left them stranded for the chance to kiss Brandon Sanchez in his fancy pool.

"I think I'll pass."

I shut the bathroom door and flick the lock before peeling off the damp bathing suit and yanking my sweaty pirate dress back on. I push past Brandon, who I'll admit, looks pretty confused about how his perfect plan for a last minute hook-up has gone so wrong so fast. The way I threw myself at him for that second chance kiss probably made him think he was in for a pretty good night. He follows me back downstairs to the front door.

"Harper, come on."

"I have to go find my friends." I stand up, and reach for the doorknob but Brandon beats me to it.

"At least let me drive you to Emmy's."

When he reaches for his keys, I slip past him and stomp down the sidewalk. He gets into the car and catches up to me quickly– driving along the side of the road at the same pace as me.

He groans out the window, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "Harper. Seriously. Just get in."

I pick up the pace, thankful that Brandon doesn't live too far from Emmy. After a few minutes of trying to be a decent human being, Brandon gets sick of being ignored and just says 'screw it' before he speeds off down the street.

At the same time, I notice something on the next lawn ahead of me- a styrofoam beacon shining in the dim streetlights- a Cruz Realty sign. A giant picture of Emmy's Dad smiling in front of a stock photo of a mansion next to his signature catchphrase: 'Call Tony's Sell Phone!'. Before I have time to change my mind, I run across the lawn and pluck the sign off of it's stand. I'm going to finish this list tonight, even if it kills me.

I tuck it under my arm and keep walking.