Forgotten First Kiss

Chapter 8

“You’re still chasing Danica Denton.” Garrett slurped his slushie during a quick break between sessions of pulling Aunt June’s late-summer weeds. “If ever in all history a guy had One-itis, it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve heard of One-itis. When a guy gets so locked in on one girl that he can’t see anyone else is alive. They overdo attention, and it’s pathetic. Girls never fall for it. You’re an alpha male nowadays, but she’ll never see you for who you are unless you get over that.”

I wasn’t over it. Danica was the One.

Yeah, I’d dated a lot over the years, but I kept comparing every woman to Danica.

But despite the facts of my past failures with her, Danica was definitely starting to see me in a different light, judging from her texts. “I’ve got it handled.”

“You haven’t told her the truth yet, have you?” Garrett sipped until he slurped through an empty straw. “Come on, dude. If you don’t, someone else will. Someone vile, like Tennille.”

My skin crawled at the mention of Tennille. “Tennille already threatened to, but she hasn’t yet. And Danica as she is now doesn’t remember Tennille. She’s spending a lot of time with me, and not really anyone else, from what I can tell.”

Garrett punched me in the upper arm, making the pebble ice in my Styrofoam Pepsi cup rattle. “You dog.” He chuckled. “But seriously, her mom is going to know. Be reasonable. The revelation is going to be better if it comes from you.”

My cousin wasn’t wrong. Fine, Garrett was never wrong. It was one of the things everyone worshiped about him. “I’ll figure out a way. Soon.”

“Good.” Garrett set down his slushie and picked up his hoe to whack at more dandelion roots. “Let’s talk through it.”

“You’re pressuring me.”

“Pressure turns coal into diamonds, Jeremy.”

I stopped yanking foxtail roots and set down my gloves. “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase forgive and forget?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I was in the living room with your mom on Sunday morning, and this televangelist had something very insightful to say about that principle.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Sometimes, we can get around the edict to forgive if we forget. Because if we totally forget, who cares? In essence, it’s the same as forgiving.” I whipped out my phone and looked up the text from the New Testament just to prove it to him.

“You, Jeremy Hotston, are quoting Jesus to me.” He wiped his brow. “The world certainly does change in unexpected ways.” He attempted another loud, empty slurp from his slushie. “But you still have to tell her. Because who knows how long her forgetfulness will last. And then what?”

That was what I feared most at this point. “I’ll deal with it.”

“You’ll get thrown out on your ear.”

Why did people keep using that term on me?

???

One night, later in the week, Danica and I ate dinner on the screened-in back porch of Aunt June’s house. Crickets sang, and the harvest moon rose on the eastern horizon, peeking just above the trees. A warm breeze blew around us, and the leaves hissed that fall was coming, despite the lingering summery temperatures.

“Did you seriously cook this?” Danica took another heaping spoonful of the fried rice in her bowl.

“That depends.” I took a bite of the orange chicken. The candle on the table between us guttered. “Is it good?”

“It’s delicious.” She scooped another bite into her mouth before she’d even finished the last one. “And the candle on the table is such a nice touch.”

“Candles make everything more special.” Her compliment was gratifying. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a very satisfying person to cook for? Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

A grain of rice remained on her lower lip, and she smiled. “You’re finally catching on.” Her eyes crinkled at their sides. “I’m a clean slate.”