a girl—or anyone, actually—to come on any of my adventures with me. Until now.”
My mind is all over the place, trying to think of something witty to say and simultaneously stuck on the fact that I’m apparently on a date. An out-of-alphabetical-order, unrelated-to-the-kissing-challenge, real-feelings-might-be-involved, honest-to-God date.
“So what’s the deal with that bro-looking guy?” Killian turns his gaze away from me, playing with the hem of his shorts.
For a moment I think he’s talking about Mark, and then I remember the illicit night at the Float & Boat. “Oh. Adam?”
Killian shrugs. “I guess. The dude from the fireworks.”
I shift uncomfortably. “There’s no deal with him. I don’t even know him.”
He looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Really?”
“It was a weird night,” I say. “I had literally never done anything like that before.” Although I have done something similar a few times since. I push the guilty feeling away—the Twenty-Six Kisses Challenge has nothing to do with Killian.
He nods and looks out toward the lighthouse, cracking his knuckles with short, sharp pops. “Can I ask you a question?”
I blink. “Yeah.”
He props his chin in his hand and says thoughtfully, “This might sound stupid, but have you ever felt like you were born in the wrong place at the wrong time? Like you’re not supposed to be wherever you are?” He turns his piercing blue eyes on me.
“I don’t know.” I think back to when my parents first decided they were getting divorced. It was the worst time in my life, but I didn’t really feel like it had anything to do with me. They were the ones who just couldn’t seem to figure anything out.
“Oh.” He seems disappointed.
“I mean,” I say hastily, “I’m sure everyone feels that way sometimes. Out of place. Thinking everyone else has it all figured out and you’re just making it up as you go along.”
Killian nods thoughtfully. “Trawley really sucks,” he says. “Thank God, I only have one year left. I’m glad I’ve switched allegiance to Butterfield for the summer.” He grins and nudges my shoulder.
“What exactly is so bad about it?” I ask. This isn’t the first time Killian has made grumpy comments about his hometown.
He shrugs. “Remember those guys who showed up at the Big Float?”
“How could I forget Drew and his string bean friend?”
Killian smirks. “Well, they were on their best behavior that day.” He reaches down to retie one of his shoes. “I’ve lived in Trawley my whole life, but I’ve never really fit in, at least with the guys. It’s weird. You’d think they would have gotten used to me by now. But they haven’t.”
“What is there to get used to?” I can’t imagine someone having a problem with Killian. He’s friendly, outgoing, easy to like. Very easy to like, actually, as I’m finding out.
Killian shrugs. “They just don’t get me. And I don’t get them either, I guess. I actually like learning things, while they’d rather just play video games. My music, the drama club stuff. George Bernard Shaw. Literally everything I care about is something they think is weird or stupid.” He looks at me and smiles. “People in Butterfield seem to be much more enlightened.”
I smile back. “Now all you have to do is move and make it official so you can join our debate team. We’d be unstoppable.”
Killian picks up a limp French fry and makes a face. “Thanks for not freaking out about the food or the longest car ride ever down deserted country roads with a guy you barely know. I promise next time we can do something normal. Like watch TED talks.”
I get to my feet and stand at the edge of the rocks, watching the waves crash against them and trying to ignore the flutter that went through my stomach when he said the words Next time.
“You know, now that you mention it, lately I have kind of felt like I don’t really belong either,” I say.
Killian comes to stand next to me, his shoulder nearly touching mine. “Yeah?” he says.
“Yeah.” I can feel him looking at me, but I keep my eyes on the horizon, too scared of what might happen if I turn my head to meet his gaze. “But right now I feel okay.”
“Me too,” Killian says, and the relief in his voice is palpable. “Me too.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, I wake up so early that it’s still almost dark outside—which in the middle of summer in northern Michigan is saying something. It’s not quite five a.m., but I am completely awake,