“What, don’t you think she’s cute enough for you?” Delilah asked, her voice as sweet as aspartame, just as footsteps came down the stairs.
“Who’s not cute enough for you, Samuel?” Charlie asked, stalking over to us in a pair of black track pants. He stretched up into a yawn that drew attention to his naked torso.
“No one,” Sam replied as Delilah said, “Percy.”
Charlie tilted his head toward her, his green eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh?”
“I dared him to kiss her but he obviously wasn’t going to. I’d be insulted if it were me,” she said, like I wasn’t sitting right beside her.
“Is that right?” Charlie smirked. “How come, Samuel?”
“Get lost, Charles,” he muttered, a high tide of blood red rising past his neck.
“Well, I wouldn’t want Percy to feel bad just because you don’t have the balls to kiss her,” Charlie said. He bent down, took my face in his hands, and moved his mouth over mine before I had a chance to react. His lips were soft and warm and tasted of orange juice, and he pressed them to me long enough that I felt awkward with my eyes open. Then it was over. He pulled back a few inches, his hands still on my face.
“You snooze, you lose, Sam,” Charlie said, looking at me with his cat eyes. He winked and straightened to full height, then headed back upstairs, leaving behind the spicy-sharp smell of his deodorant.
“Whoa, Percy!” Delilah grabbed my arm. I ran my tongue over my lips, the citrus tang lingering on them. “Earth to Persephone!” she giggled. Sam watched me silently, pink to the tips of his ears. I blinked away and bent my head, covering my face in a dark force field of hair.
I’d just had my first kiss, but my mind was stuck on the fact that Sam didn’t want to kiss me. Not even on a dare.
* * *
MOM DROVE DELILAH back to the city the next morning. Delilah gave me a hug, saying she had the “best time ever” and was going to miss me “so much.” I was relieved she was gone. I wanted Sam to myself so things could go back to normal, and I could forget about Charlie kissing me and Sam very much not kissing me.
The going-back-to-normal part was easy. We swam. We fished. We read. We made our way through eighties horror movies. Forgetting about the kissing stuff? Not so much. At least not for me. For Charlie, it wasn’t a problem. I’m not sure he remembered putting his lips on mine at all—it’s possible he was half-asleep or sleepwalking at the time—because he didn’t mention it.
I was sitting in the Banana Boat mulling all this over while Charlie and Sam dried off from our latest trip to the jumping rock （I stayed in the boat in a more supervisory capacity）。 It’s not that I wanted Charlie to mention the kiss again. I just kind of wanted some reassurance that I wasn’t a completely crappy kisser. I was studying Charlie’s mouth when I felt a tug on my bracelet. It was Sam, and I was busted.
When we got back to the Floreks’， Sam and I swam out to the raft while Charlie went to get ready for his shift at the restaurant. As soon as we climbed on, Sam lay down with his hands behind his head and face to the sun, closing his eyes without a word.
What the hell?
He’d barely spoken to me since he caught me leering at his brother, and suddenly I was irrationally annoyed. I backed up to give myself a running start and cannonballed into the water next to where he was lying. His legs were covered in droplets when I emerged, but he hadn’t moved an inch.
“You’re quieter than usual,” I said, once I’d climbed back onto the raft, standing over him so water dripped onto his arm.
“Oh yeah?” His voice was dispassionate.
“Are you mad at me?” I glared at his eyelids.
“I’m not mad at you, Percy,” he said, slinging one arm over his face. Okaaaaay.
“Well, you seem kinda mad,” I barked. “Did I do something wrong?” No response. “I’m sorry for whatever it was,” I added with an edge of sarcasm. Because—reminder!—he was the one who rejected me.
Still nothing. Frustrated, I sat down and pulled the arm from his face. He squinted at me.
“Percy, I’m not. Seriously,” he said. And I could tell he meant it. I could also tell that something wasn’t right.
“Then what’s going on with you?”
He pulled his arm out of my hand and hoisted himself up, so that we were both sitting cross-legged across from each other, knees touching. He tilted his head just slightly.
“Was that your first kiss?” he asked.