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“It’s going to be okay, Bishop. I’ll help you.”

He looked at me with surprise. “You will?”

“Of course.” I reached for his hand.

The moment I touched him, a strong crackle of electricity coursed up my arm.

I gasped.

And then a vision slammed into me like I’d just been flattened by a truck.

A city in darkness, melting and draining away like water in a bathtub—falling into a dark hole in the centre of everything. People, thousands and thousands of them, trying to run away but getting pulled into the vortex. There was no escape.

Bishop was there trying to help. To save everyone, including me. I reached for his hand as he yelled my name, but he was swept away from me before I could touch him.

Then it was all over.

Where there had once been a city, there was nothing but darkness.

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Dark Kiss

Michelle Rowen

www.miraink.co.uk

To Eve Silver … the journey continues!

prologue

This is going to hurt like hell.

The grim thought was confirmed by the look on the gatekeeper’s face, but Bishop didn’t want anyone’s pity. After all, he’d volunteered for this.

“Are you ready?” the gatekeeper asked.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“And you know your mission.”

“Of course.”

Bishop glanced over his shoulder at the expanse of bright white behind him. This was as far as he could go before leaving Heaven entirely. He’d left before, many times, but this was different. He pushed aside a sliver of fear. He would return soon—this was not the end for him. It was only the beginning.

The gatekeeper studied Bishop as if looking for any sign of weakness. “You’ve been warned that there will be pain?”

“I have.”

“And disorientation?”

“Yes.”

Traveling to the human world was not normally a huge ordeal. However, there was nothing normal about this mission.

An invisible barrier shielded his destination, preventing any supernatural being from entering or leaving the city through normal means. Bishop had been told this gatekeeper had the ability to help him breach the barrier—but it wasn’t going to be pleasant. The minds of the others would be protected to prevent any harm, but not his. He was the only one who would remember what needed to be done.

Bishop was positive he was more than strong enough to handle whatever was to come. All the better to prove his worth.

This was going to be very good.

“First you must find the others,” instructed the gatekeeper. “If you don’t find them within seven days, they’ll be lost forever.”

“I know this already.” He didn’t even try to keep the sharp tone from his voice. Patience had never been his strongest virtue.

The gatekeeper pursed his lips and his expression soured. “Do you have it?”

“Yes.” A golden dagger was tucked into the sheath he wore strapped between his shoulder blades. It was all he needed to take with him.

The gatekeeper nodded. “Come closer.”

Bishop did as he asked. The gatekeeper pressed his pale, long-fingered hand against Bishop’s chest. Bishop grimaced as an unpleasant burning sensation sank into him. He gritted his teeth to keep from showing discomfort at whatever protection the gatekeeper was searing into him to help in his journey.

Finally the gatekeeper stepped back. He didn’t smile. It was quite possible that he never smiled.

The oldest angels were usually the least pleasant.

“Well?” Bishop prompted. “Are we done here?”

“We are. May your journey be—”

Before the sentence could be completed, the solidity beneath Bishop dropped away. He hadn’t had a chance to brace himself.

Bishop had imagined what this might feel like—a cleansing pain that would help him focus on the all-important task that lay ahead.

Instead, it was an agony unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He struggled against it, but it was too much, and he had his very first doubt about his success.

But it was too late for doubts. Too late for fear. Too late for anything.

As he continued to fall with no way to stop his torturous descent, he felt his mind begin to rip away.

The instant he slammed through the barrier surrounding the human city, Bishop realized he’d never before heard himself scream.

What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?

—Robert Browning

chapter 1

“This is going to be an amazing night, Sam!” Carly shouted over the music blasting all around us.

“You think so?” I yelled back.

“Best night ever!”

Sure. My throat already hurt and we’d only been here for a half hour. So far it felt like every Friday night at Crave, elbow to elbow with other sweaty kids on the dance floor.

Don’t get me wrong, as one of the only all-ages clubs here in Trinity, it was a decent place to hang out—especially with my best friend—I just didn’t think it was going to change my life or anything.

Anyone looking at us would think that Carly and I were the polar opposite of each other in looks and attitude. Carly Kessler was a curvy, flippy-haired blonde with a sunny personality whereas I was a skinny, nonsunny, long-haired brunette. And yet we were still best friends and had been forever.

After a few more minutes enveloped in the hot nightclub, Carly clutched my arm, her face flushed with excitement. “Heads up. Stephen Keyes is looking right at you.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw him standing at the floor. edge of the dance He was looking at me. Or, at least, he seemed to be looking at me.

I turned back around, my heart pounding.

Everyone has that one crush, the guy they can’t stop thinking about even though it’s totally hopeless. Stephen Keyes was mine. He was nineteen—two years older than me—and utterly gorgeous with jet-black hair and caramel-colored eyes. We grew up in the same neighborhood, him two doors down from me. He mowed lawns in the summer. I watched from my bedroom window.

It was such a cliché, really. The weird, unpopular chick with the massive crush on the hot, older jock.

As far as I knew, Stephen was supposed to be at university in California, two thousand miles away. I’d even watched his parents help him pack up his car when he left town at the end of August. I wondered why he was back only a couple of months later.

Suddenly he wasn’t just lingering at the edge of the dance floor looking distant and delectable. He was standing right next to me. Carly watched, her eyes widening as Stephen leaned close enough for me to hear him over the loud throb of the music.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

“Me?”

He nodded and smiled. And I, the girl who shunned and mocked romance in all its forms—movies, books, real life—went weak for a hot guy I had a crush on. Whenever I’d really liked somebody in the past—which, not including Stephen, had been only twice before in my entire life—it hadn’t ended in true love. The two other boys I’d fallen for hadn’t liked me in return and I’d ended up ignored, brokenhearted and humiliated both times.

However, that hadn’t stopped me from liking Stephen. A lot.

Stephen didn’t wait for my reply. Instead, he walked away, weaving through the labyrinth of sweaty dancers.

Something wicked this way comes.

The line from Macbeth, our current read in English class, flitted through my head. The quote suited Stephen perfectly. He might be the boy next door, but to me he was also wicked. And dangerous.

I didn’t do dangerous. Not anymore. Even little dangerous things tended to lead to big trouble. Six months ago, I’d been busted for shoplifting—my dumb way of psychologically dealing with my parents’ divorce—although I wasn’t arrested for it, thank God. I’d learned my lesson in a very big way that sticking your hands in dangerous places would get them chopped off.

“Go,” Carly urged. “This is so awesome!”

She wasn’t much help. Carly would storm headfirst into danger if she thought it might mean that she’d have a good time. When she was a kid she’d stuck her hand in a beehive because she wanted to taste the honey. It hadn’t turned out so well, of course, but I had to admire her for … well, going for it, despite all the signs not to. She didn’t second-guess herself. She didn’t regret anything she tried—even the crazy stuff.

With a last look at Carly, I followed Stephen off the dance floor. I was insanely curious what he wanted to speak to me about. I mean, despite us living very close to each other, he didn’t even know me.

He led the way up a spiral staircase to the second-floor lounge, which was surrounded by glass walls with thin, swirling frosted patterns on the otherwise clear surface. Up here, away from the crowd and deejay and loudspeakers, I could actually hear myself think. The lounge had a couple of pool tables and red couches and chairs. Stephen leaned against one of the couches and studied me. He wore a black button-down shirt and dark jeans. His hair was slicked back off his handsome face. My stomach fluttered.

“So …” I began when he didn’t say anything. “Do you come here often?”

Oh, God. I was normally proud of my smooth comebacks, my witty one-liners, and that was what came out of my mouth? I wanted a do-over.

Stephen grinned, showing straight white teeth. “I’m here every single night, lately. Even weekdays.”

“Every night? Really?” I twisted my hair. “Cool.”

Cool? Really? I was not handling this well at all. My brain and my voice weren’t working in sync.

“Um, what are you doing in Trinity?” I asked. “I thought you were in university now.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m taking a bit of a break, trying to decide what I really want to do with my life. Thought I’d come back here for a while.”

I just nodded and tried very hard not to say “cool” again.

“You come here every Friday, right, Samantha?”

A flush of pleasure went through me. I was totally okay with friends calling me Sam, but I liked hearing him say my full name.

“Usually.”

“You like it here?”

I looked around. There weren’t many people in the lounge tonight. It was the first time I’d even come up here, myself. A couple on the far couch glanced over at us every so often as if curious why Stephen Keyes was talking to me. The majority of kids were downstairs on the large dance floor and at the bar area, both visible through the glass wall that circled the lounge. I could even see the top of Carly’s blond head from where I stood.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” I said.

“Just okay?”

I shrugged and rubbed my dry lips together, turning to face him. My lip gloss from earlier was long gone. “Some nights are better than others.”

Stephen reached out a hand. “Come here.”

If he hadn’t made it sound like a charming invitation, I might have resisted. But I walked closer to him, until I was a few feet away. There was something strange in his gaze as he studied me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but a chill slid down my spine.

I cleared my throat. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“So you’re the special one, are you?”

That was the last thing I expected him to say. “Special?”

“That’s what she said. That’s why she wants me to do this. I normally wouldn’t, since you’re so young.”

She? She who? I frowned at him. “I’m seventeen.”

“Exactly. That’s young.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Trust me, Samantha. It is.”

He slid his arm around my waist so that his hand rested at the small of my back, and he drew me closer to him. His touch sank into me, cool against my hot skin.

It was suddenly difficult for me to breathe. “Who said I’m special?”

He didn’t answer. When I looked up at him I realized he was leaning closer to me, closer and closer, and then his lips brushed against mine. I gasped and he pulled back a little.

“Is this okay?” he asked. “May I kiss you?”

My cheeks warmed. “I … um …”

He spoke softly into my ear. “I should warn you, it’s a very dangerous kiss. It’ll change your life forever, so you have to want it.”

If I wasn’t feeling so flustered, I might have thought he was being cocky. I mean, please. A kiss that could change my life forever?

But I kind of believed him. And after months of trying to be a perfect angel after the shoplifting incident, I wanted to push the edges of my comfort zone just a little bit.

And this was special—a boy I liked who might like me in return. I couldn’t just walk away.

This time I kissed him, tangling my fingers into his black hair and pulling his mouth toward mine as if I couldn’t resist. I hadn’t kissed many boys before, so I hoped I was doing it right. It felt right. In fact, it felt really right. My lips parted as the kiss deepened. His fingers dug into my waist. This felt like something out of a movie—one of the romantic ones I never watched because they made me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t want to try to relate to all of those emotions, those declarations of love and eternal devotion. I mean, spare me the drama.

“You’re delicious,” Stephen whispered before he kissed me again and my heart felt like it was pounding right out of my chest.

And then it got weird.

The cool sensation from his touch turned icy and spread to the kiss, and I shivered. That iciness slid down my throat to my stomach and branched out to my arms and legs, chilling my entire body. Goose bumps formed on my arms. Dizziness swirled through me. It was jarring, but I couldn’t exactly say it felt bad. It was exciting, a rush, like being on a roller coaster in the middle of winter.

I lost track of time. Nothing existed for me except Stephen. His lips never left mine—and I never wanted them to. Minutes, hours, I didn’t know how long it was that he kissed me. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop kissing him even if I wanted to.

But then, finally, he stopped kissing me. He held my face between his hands and stared at me for a heavy moment. His eyes looked very dark in the shadows up here. “Sorry, kid. Really.”

Then he let go of me and walked away.

Kid?

Time slowed to a crawl as he disappeared down the stairs, the dance music becoming a hollow echo in my ears. My face burned even though my chest now felt like ice.

The scent of sweat mixed with perfume slowly pulled me out of my daze. To my left I could see the multicolored lights above the dance floor. Even up here, the ground shook with the force of all the kids stomping down there.

Carly appeared at the top of the stairs and approached me, glancing back in the direction Stephen had gone. “Sam! What happened?”

I tried to find my voice. “Stephen Keyes kissed me.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God! You’re so lucky!”

He’d kissed me. And then he’d called me a kid and walked away.

“Lucky,” I repeated, just before my eyes rolled back, my knees gave out and everything went black.

chapter 2

In my dream, something moved beneath me, twisting around my ankles like long, cold fingers. I didn’t know what it was, but the thought of being dragged down into the black, bottomless hole terrified me. Before it took hold of me completely, someone grabbed my hand.

Frantically I looked up to see a boy. I couldn’t see him very well since it was so dark, but he was definitely not Stephen.

“Hold on!” His eyes were blue—so blue that they seemed to glow. He was the only thing keeping me from whatever was trying to pull me downward.

I tried to concentrate on his face but still couldn’t see him clearly—only his eyes, which burned into me with their strange light.

“They were wrong, Samantha.” His voice broke as he said my name. “It never should have been me. This is the proof.”

“What?”

“I’m not strong enough for this.” His grip on me loosened. “I’ve failed you. I’ve failed everyone. It—it’s all over.”

“No—don’t let go! Don’t let—”

The next moment, I slipped out of his grasp and fell, screaming, into the bottomless darkness.

“Sam! Wake up!” Carly sounded a million miles away.

My eyelids fluttered open and it took a moment for everything to come into focus. I lay on a red couch on my back and I was staring up at my best friend.

She punched me in the shoulder.

“Don’t do that!” Her thin brows drew together. “You just freaked me out! Did you eat today? I have a Snickers bar in my purse if you need it.”

“No … I’m okay.” I sat up and ran a hand through my hair, forcing my way through a tangle. “What happened?”

“Stephen Keyes kissed you and then you totally passed out for a minute—not that I blame you. That must have been some kiss. Are you really okay?”

How embarrassing. After being kissed by the hottest guy in Trinity, I’d passed out right in front of everyone up here. Several of the other kids had drawn closer to get a look at me. “I was only out for a minute?”

“Yeah. Any longer and I would have called for help.” Her cell phone was in her hand, its screen lit up as if she’d been about to make a distress call. She looked over her shoulder at the others gathered nearby. “She’s okay now. Back off and give her some air.”

They did, their curiosity about the girl who fainted leaving as quickly as it had arrived.

I watched them go back to their couches and chairs, talking amongst themselves. Then I scanned the rest of the lounge with growing dismay at the idea that I’d fainted. I never fainted. “Did Stephen see what happened?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t think so. He took off. What did you two talk about?”

Our short conversation was now a blur. “Nothing, really. I don’t even know why he wanted to talk to me in the first place. He brought me up here, said I was special or something and then he kissed me.”

Her worried look shifted to one of happiness. “So awesome.”

I cringed. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Stephen Keyes kisses you, you swoon like some girl in an old movie and you’re trying to tell me it’s not a big deal?”

“If it was that big of a deal, he wouldn’t have just walked away.” I wasn’t going to let myself be too disappointed by that, but my throat felt thick and my eyes burned. He’d even apologized. Maybe he was sorry that he didn’t find me very interesting or attractive, or maybe he was sorry that I was a lousy kisser. He had said that I was too young.

And that dream I’d had about falling and the guy with the amazing blue eyes—that had been seriously disturbing.

“Can we go?” I asked. “Sorry, I—I’m not feeling so hot.”

Actually I was feeling cold as ice.

She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then closed it, her expression growing worried again. “You don’t look so good. Yeah, we can definitely go.”

“Thanks.”

“Stupid Stephen Keyes. Who needs him?”

Frankly, I wanted to put the entire experience out of my head. Following the wickedly sexy boy off to be kissed hadn’t led to danger; it had led only to the familiar feelings of disappointment and embarrassment. Stephen was the third boy I’d liked who’d made me feel bad about myself. Three strikes. I was out.

If I looked at it objectively, maybe this was a good lesson to learn. I didn’t need any more trouble in my life.

I didn’t leave my house all day Saturday or most of Sunday and I slept in past noon all weekend. It was highly unlike me to stay in bed so long. I figured I was coming down with the flu. That could explain the passing out and my recent chills.

Late Sunday afternoon, however, I forced myself to go to the movies with Carly. Even though it was only mid-October and the temperature read fifty-five degrees, it felt like it was freezing outside. Carly picked me up in her red Volkswagen Beetle—a gift from her parents for her birthday last month. My dad was generous with my presents and weekly allowance, especially since my parents had split two years ago and he’d moved to England for his law firm, but a few gifts and some cash weren’t nearly the same as getting a car.

We paid good money to see Zombie Queen IV, which turned out to be possibly the worst movie in the history of mankind. As a self-proclaimed horror movie aficionado—with a deep fondness for all things George A. Romero—it took a lot to impress me.

“I’m so hungry,” I said as we exited the theater while the credits rolled over the bloody, severed head of the hero. Even after gobbling down a large popcorn with extra butter, I was famished. It was strange. I’d pigged out all weekend. I didn’t normally have such a voracious appetite.

“Maybe you’re pregnant,” Carly joked.

I eyed her. “Highly doubtful.”

“I guess you’re right. To be pregnant you’d have to actually be getting it on with somebody.”

“Getting it on?” I repeated. “What a lovely way to put it.

Besides, I’m starving, remember? Doesn’t pregnancy make you want to throw up?”

“It would make me want to throw up. Actually, I feel sick just thinking about it.”

Carly hadn’t brought up what had happened—or, rather, not happened—with Stephen at the club. It was appreciated more than she knew. If I could, I’d take a pill to forget about the embarrassment of him walking away after our kiss and leaving me standing there all alone. My crush on him had officially been crushed.

“Hey, Samantha!”

I turned to see a boy from my history class waving at me—Noah. He stood in a line waiting to get into the next showing of Zombie Queen IV.

“Be warned, that’s a ridiculously bad movie,” I said as we passed him on our way out to the lobby.

“I’ll take my chances.” Noah grinned. “You’re looking good tonight.”

“Oh … uh, thanks.”

That was a strange thing for him to say. We’d never really spoken that much before. Maybe he was just being extra-friendly tonight.

Carly didn’t say anything until we’d moved out of hearing distance. “So what’s up with you getting hit on today? That’s the second time since we got here. Am I totally invisible all of a sudden?”

The first time was when a guy named Mike—someone else I barely talked to at school—had sat right next to me in the theater and offered me some of his popcorn after I’d eaten all of mine. I honestly hadn’t thought anything of it, but I guess Carly had noticed.

I frowned. “Who said that? I could have sworn I heard a voice, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

She swatted me. “You’re hilarious.”

“I have no idea what’s going on. Besides, he was just saying hi. That wasn’t exactly an official hit.”

“Well, if it doesn’t pass, remember to share with your best friend.”

I nodded solemnly. “Understood. I promise to share with you the wealth of boys who throw themselves at my irresistible feet.”

Irresistible. Right. I already had a theory about why Stephen had kissed me, not that I wanted to share it with anyone, Carly included. I’d decided it had been a dare from his friends to go kiss a weird high school girl who had a thing for zombie movies—not that they’d know that little detail about me.

My stomach growled.

Correction: the weird high school girl who liked zombie movies and was suddenly ready to eat her way through the city. Then again, I’d always been too skinny. “A” didn’t only describe the grades I was striving for, but my bra size, as well. Eating eight thousand calories a day would definitely solve that little problem. Pun intended.

Something smelled delicious. My skin tingled and my mouth watered. I closed my eyes and inhaled, seeking the new scent past the salty, greasy odor of popcorn that surrounded us.

Carly groaned. “I can’t deal with him right now. I’ll just wait over here, okay?”

“What?” I opened my eyes as she wandered toward a movie magazine rack near the concession stand. In her rush to get away, she banged against the island that held the napkins and plastic straws.

“Hope she didn’t leave because of me,” a familiar voice said.

Oh.

“How did you guess?” I turned my head to see Colin Richards, Carly’s ex-boyfriend, standing a few feet away.

Colin sat behind me in English and we’d forged a bit of a friendship since the semester started last month, which was awkward considering how much Carly hated his guts. He’d cheated on her at a pool party this summer and, understandably, she’d been crushed by the betrayal. Colin tended to do crazy stuff when he was drunk. One of the crazy things he’d done was Julie Travis, who’d allegedly had her eye on Colin’s broad shoulders, cropped sandy-blond hair and wicked sense of humor since they’d been in elementary school together. However, once he’d sobered up, Colin had realized his mistake, tried to make up with Carly and failed spectacularly. Carly was a lot like me in that way—she didn’t get over being hurt easily. She put on a good front, but I knew she was still heartbroken.

“New haircut?” Colin asked.

I touched my dark hair, twisting a long piece around my index finger. “Not lately.”

“It looks nice.” When he smiled, my gaze was drawn to his mouth. I’d never noticed what nice lips Colin had. Carly had told me many times that he was an amazing kisser. As far as I knew—and, believe me, I would have been told otherwise—that’s as far as they’d ever gone together.

I moved a little closer to him. “Are you wearing a new cologne?”

He shrugged. “Just soap.”

I pulled myself out of my sudden daze to glance over my shoulder at Carly, who was currently out of earshot. However, she was still giving me the eye. The eye that asked, Why are you smelling my ex-boyfriend?

I cleared my throat. “I need to go. Uh, I’ll see you in class tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded. “Bright and early.”

I turned and walked over to Carly. She put down the magazine she’d been pretending to read. Her cheeks were flushed, which told me she was upset but trying to control her emotions.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be sorry.” She sent a sneer in the direction of Colin, who’d rejoined his friends on the other side of the theater. “The fact that he’s still breathing isn’t your fault.”

“He really wants you to forgive him.”

“Did he say that?”

“Well, not just now, but it’s implied.”

Her lips thinned. “When he dies, I promise to put flowers on his grave. How’s that?”

“It’s a start.”

I wasn’t certain if Carly was still upset because she really loved Colin or if it was something else. Personally I think what had happened stung so much because he was the first guy to pursue a relationship with her. She tended to hide a bit, feeling fat—which she totally wasn’t—and not thinking she was good enough to catch a hot guy. I knew at least two other guys who’d be happy to ask her out if she’d give them half a chance. Instead, she wallowed. Which was fine, since I was a bit of a wallower myself.

Carly grimaced, her gaze locked on something over my shoulder. “Brace yourself for impact. Jordan’s on her way over here and she looks pissed.”

I tensed up.

Jordan Fitzpatrick and I had been friends for three whole weeks in ninth grade drama class, until we’d started to like the same boy—one who hadn’t liked me in return and had proven this by laughing in my face when he learned about my feelings. He hadn’t liked Jordan, either, so she blamed me for the rejection. She’d then decided that she hated me. Because that made sense.

She’d just exited a neighboring theater with some of her equally unpleasant friends and was headed our way.

Nearly six feet tall with flame-red hair and a few scattered freckles on her nose, Jordan was easily the most beautiful girl in school. I knew from our short friendship that she wanted to be a model. A top model, of course, following in her mother’s footsteps. Her mom currently starred in a soap opera down in Los Angeles, and Jordan had stayed here in Trinity with her father to finish school.

She’d been pursuing the modeling goal every waking moment that she wasn’t at school, and so far she’d failed miserably at it. Just because you were gorgeous and tall didn’t mean you were also photogenic.

Did I mention she hated me?

“I heard what you did at Crave on Friday night, you slut,” she snapped.

“Great to see you, too, Jordan,” I said.

“Julie said you were throwing yourself at him.”

My stomach sank, but I tried to look confused. “Throwing myself at who?”

Her green eyes narrowed. “My boyfriend.”

“Stephen Keyes is not your boyfriend,” Carly interjected. “Not anymore.”

Jordan’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

Oh, crap. I’d totally forgotten the rumors that Jordan and Stephen had dated over the summer.

Carly might not have a great deal of self-confidence when it came to standing up for herself, but when it involved protecting me, she did a great impression of a cute blonde pit bull. “From what I’ve heard, he dumped you last week, right? Sounds like he wanted to start seeing other people. And, FYI, Sam didn’t throw herself at him—he approached her. So if you want to blame anyone for your object of lust’s lips wandering elsewhere, it would be Stephen himself.”

Jordan ignored Carly like she was a mildly annoying insect and focused on me. I could see the confusion in her eyes. “I guess I don’t understand why Stephen would want to be anywhere near a nobody like you.” Her words were sharp as glass as she twisted them into me.

In the answering silence, my stomach growled again. Loudly.

Jordan’s expression soured further. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, you’re—”

“Go to hell, klepto.” She spun around and walked away.

The klepto crack was a familiar insult from her, but it still made me flinch as if she’d slapped me. She’d been at the mall the day I’d been caught and had witnessed my humiliation firsthand.

“What a bitch!” Carly exclaimed. “Just ignore her.”

“I’ll try.” My face felt hot. It sucked to have the subject of the kiss—and my shoplifting embarrassment—brought up by someone I really didn’t like.