Just One Kiss novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The List
Lottie tells Ansel she wants to pick her first partner on purpose and wants his help vetting three names; Colt mocks her at the dock, and Ansel says he has done this before.
I told my best friend I wanted him to help me pick who I'd lose my virginity to, and he dropped a cooler on his foot.
It was a Friday evening in August, and Ecklund's Marina smelled like diesel and minnows.
I was scrubbing the fish table with a brush.
Ansel Okerlund was fixing the brake light on a boat trailer, which is what he does when he's nervous or bored or breathing.
He is six foot three and built like a door.
I've known him since we were eight.
"Say that again," he said, hopping on one foot.
"You heard me."
"I heard some words. I'd like them in a better order."
I wiped my hands on my apron and pulled a bait-shop receipt out of my back pocket.
"I'm eighteen," I said. "I turned eighteen a month ago."
"I was at the party. You blew out the candles and made a speech about your lungs."
"In twenty days I'm moving into a dorm with thirty thousand strangers."
"Okay."
"I'm not walking in there as a surprise to myself."
He stared at me.
I held up the receipt.
"Three names," I said. "Colt Rydell, Perry Teller, and the cook at Harbor Lodge."
"That's a list."
"I know it's a list."
"You made a list of men."
"I made a list of options," I said. "I want my first time to be a choice, Ansel. In a real bed, with somebody I picked on purpose, before I leave. Not a thing that happens to me in a stairwell in October because I got tired of waiting."
He sat down on the trailer fender.
His hair had come loose from its rubber band, and he pushed it out of his face with his wrist.
"And you want me to do what?"
"Look at them," I said. "You're good at looking."
"I'm good at looking."
"You catch everything. You noticed Mr. Haverhill was skimming the bait money when nobody else did."
"That was a math error."
"It was a crime."
His mouth almost smiled.
He has a chipped front tooth from a canoe accident when we were ten, and it shows when he's trying not to laugh.
"So I'd be your safety inspector," he said.
"You get a veto. Every name, before I'm ever alone with him. If you don't like how he talks, how he treats the busboy, whatever it is, he's off."
"And you'd listen."
"I'd listen. And then it's my choice. Final. That's the whole deal."
He looked at the water for a long time.
I counted the gulls on the pilings so I wouldn't count how long he took.
"Why me?" he said.
"Because you're the only one who'd tell me the truth."
He rubbed the back of his neck, where he was already sunburned.
"Okay," he said.
"Okay?"
"Yes. Okay. Show me the list."
I handed it over.
His lips moved as he read the names.
"Colt Rydell," he said flatly.
"He's twenty and he has a boat."
"He's nineteen and he has a father with a boat."
"You can't veto on class."
"Watch me."
"Talking about me?" said a voice behind us.
Colt Rydell came down the dock with two friends, all three in boat shoes and sunglasses on their heads.
He has a gold chain and a way of smiling at you.
"Hey, Ecklund," he said. "Slip twelve's leaking. Somebody should look at that."
"I'll send someone," I said.
"Send yourself." His friends laughed. "You're the little project, right? Everybody says you're the one who gets things done. You should do me."
One of the friends made a noise.
My face went hot.
Ansel stood up off the fender.
I put my hand flat against his chest, and it was like touching a wall.
"Don't," I said under my breath.
Colt had seen the receipt in Ansel's hand.
He was too far away to read it, but he smiled wider, and I knew some version of the truth had reached him.
"I'm having people over Saturday at the quarry," he said. "Bonfire. You should come, Ecklund. I'll take care of you."
His friends howled.
Every customer on the dock had gone quiet.
Gail was in the office window, a phone against her ear, watching.
I could have let Ansel handle it.
I could have gone red and said nothing.
"Saturday," I said, as loud as I could stand. "I'll be there."
Colt blinked.
I don't think he'd expected a yes.
"Cool," he said, and walked away like it had been his idea.
When they were gone, Ansel took one step to follow.
I grabbed his arm. "He's on the list. That's why he's on it. He's the one everyone knows."
"He called you a project."
"He's a jerk with a boat. I can handle him."
"You're going to a bonfire with Colt Rydell."
"With you," I said. "You're driving me and you're waiting in the truck."
He opened his mouth to argue.
Then he shut it, and something went across his face that I couldn't read.
"Lottie," he said.
"What?"
"I should tell you something. About this."
My stomach did a stupid flip.
"Okay," I said.
He took a long breath.
"I've done it before," he said. "Last winter. So I know what to look for."
The brush slid out of my hand and hit the dock.
I had known everything about this boy for ten years.
I did not know that.
"Oh," I said.
He picked up the brush and gave it back without meeting my eyes.
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