Kiss List (Book I of the List Series)

Chapter 10 - Wrong Paul

The kiss list was done. When I got home that night after confessing to David I took the list, crunched it up into a little ball, and hurled it into the trash can underneath my desk. Then I sent a text to the girls: "No more kissing." I wanted to forget that the list had ever existed. Unfortunately, it was too late. I had already caught the attention of the queen of Lakeville High School, Missy James herself.

With great difficulty, Alyssa and Payton managed to drag me to a party on Friday night. I wanted nothing to do with the people at school. Seeing everyone the day after the fight had been horrible. I kept waiting for someone to accuse me of starting it. The thought of being surrounded by them sounded like hell. Alyssa and Payton insisted, however, that I could not spend the rest of my high school career hiding in my room, as I had told them I planned to do. The devious little traitors invited me to a comedy club show and once I was Alyssa's flowery car they announced that we were going to a party at Chloe Walker's house.

"No!" I cried. "Turn this car around right now! I told you I'm not going to be around those people. They hate me."

"Step on it, Alyssa," Payton said. "Sadie, are you kidding? They don't hate you. They think you're a legend."

"What?" I said skeptically.

"It's true," Alyssa said. "Molly Tate told me that she heard five boys were fighting over you and then you made out with all of them afterwards."

"That's ridiculous," I said. "You really need to stop listening to Molly Tate."

"I heard something similar from the cheerleaders," Payton said. "Luckily the sophomore girls have been pretty quiet. If they knew what you did to Sam they would go nuts. Seriously, those girls would cut you."

"Well that's just perfect," I said. "The entire school thinks I'm a slut."

"The entire school thinks you're the coolest girl ever!" Payton said. "The girls are all jealous and the guys want to know what they're missing. We shouldn't be throwing out the kiss list, we should be expanding it! You can get any guy you want now."

I shook my head furiously. "No," I said firmly. "The kiss list is gone. I'm done hurting boys."

Payton sighed. "Suit yourself. Such a waste," she said.

Chloe's house was an enormous brown brick building with large white pillars out front, an attached four-car garage to the side, and a pool in the back. Both her parents were doctors so she was loaded. They were far too trustworthy and went to East Coast to visit Chole's ailing grandmother several times a year. When they did, Choe hosted parties fueled by a keg that her older cousin would bring in return for a handsome profit. Missing one of her parties was equivalent to social suicide because people talked about them for months afterwards. If you couldn't partake in the discussion, all you could do was listen to everyone else and look like a loser.

We were handed drinks by eager boys as soon as we walked inside the house. We politely took them and then set them aside and got new red plastic cups from beside the keg when the boys weren't looking. Even though we knew everyone at the party, we had been well warned by our parents not to take drinks we hadn't been in constant watch over. We filled our cups with water instead. Most of time, people saw the red cup and assumed we were drinking beer. In the rare occasions that they actually looked into our cups, we would say that we couldn't drink because our "lame" parents always checked us when we got home and threatened to report us to the school if we ever drank. We were willing to risk being grounded, we would say, but the school's strict "alcohol equals no participation" policy was too daunting. Sports were cool so that excuse was enough to get us off the hook and even garner some sympathy for having to put up with our parents.