A Thousand Boy Kisses
: Chapter 5

Poppy

Blossom Grove, Georgia

Present Day

Aged Seventeen

“He’s coming back.”

Three words. Three words that sent my life into a tailspin. Three words that terrified me.

He’s coming back.

I stared at Jorie, my closest friend, clutching my books tightly to my chest. My heart fired off like a cannon and nerves overwhelmed me.

“What did you say?” I whispered, ignoring the students around us in the hallway, all rushing to their next classes.

Jorie placed her hand on my arm. “Poppy, are you okay?”

“Yes,” I replied weakly.

“You sure? You’ve gone pale. You don’t seem okay.”

I nodded, trying to be convincing, and asked, “Who … who told you he was coming back?”

“Judson and Deacon,” she replied. “I was just in class with them and they were saying that his daddy has been sent back here by his company.” She shrugged. “This time, for good.”

I swallowed. “To the same house?”

Jorie winced, but nodded. “Sorry, Pops.”

I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. He was going to be next door again … his room directly opposite mine again.

“Poppy?” Jorie asked, and I opened my eyes. Her gaze was full of sympathy. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve only been back here a few weeks yourself. And I know what seeing Rune will do…”

I forced a smile. “I’ll be fine, Jor. I don’t know him anymore. Two years is a long time, and we haven’t spoken once in that time.”

Jorie frowned. “Pop—”

“I’ll be fine,” I insisted, holding up my hand. “I need to get to class.”

I was walking away from Jorie when a question popped into my head. I looked back over my shoulder at my friend, the only friend I had kept in touch with in the past two years. While everyone thought my family had left town to care for my mama’s sick aunt, only Jorie knew the truth.

“When?” I mustered the courage to ask.

Jorie’s face softened when she realized what I meant. “Tonight, Pops. He arrives tonight. Judson and Deacon are spreading the word for people to go to the field this evening to welcome him back. Everyone’s going.”

Her words felt like a dagger stabbing my heart. I hadn’t been invited. But then again, I wouldn’t be. I left Blossom Grove without a word. When I came back to this school, without being on Rune’s arm, I became the girl I always should have been—invisible to the popular crowd. The weird girl who wore bows in her hair and played the cello.

No one—except for Jorie and Ruby—had even cared I’d been gone.

“Poppy?” Jorie called again.

I blinked myself back to reality and noticed that the hallways were nearly empty. “You’d better get to class, Jor.”

She took a step toward me. “Will you be okay, Pops? I’m worried about you.”

I laughed a humorless laugh. “I’ve been through worse.”

I dipped my head and rushed to my class before I could see the sympathy and pity on Jorie’s face. I entered my math class, sliding into my seat just as the teacher began the lesson.

If someone were to ask me later what the class had been about, I wouldn’t have been able to tell them. For fifty minutes all I could think about was the last time I saw Rune. The last time he held me in his arms. The last time he pressed his lips against my lips. How we made love, and the look on his beautiful face as he was driven out of my life.

Idly, I wondered what he looked like now. He was always tall with broad shoulders, well built. But, as for the rest of him, two years was a long time for a person to change at our time of life. I knew that better than anyone.

I wondered if his eyes still appeared crystal blue in the bright sun. I wondered if he still wore his hair long, and I wondered if he still pushed it back every few minutes—that irresistible move that drove all the girls crazy.

And for a brief moment, I let myself wonder if he still thought about me, the girl next door. If he ever wondered what I was doing at any particular moment in time. If he ever thought back to that night. Our night. The most amazing night of my life.

Then dark thoughts hit me hard and fast. The question that made me feel physically sick … had he kissed someone else in the past two years? Had he given anyone his lips, when he’d forever promised them to me?

Or worse: had he made love with another girl?

The shrill call of the school bell tore me from my thoughts. I stood up from my desk, making my way to the hallway. I was thankful it was the end of the school day.

I was tired and I ached. But more than that, I hurt in my heart. Because I knew that Rune would be back in the house next door from tonight, in school the next day, and I wouldn’t be able to speak to him. I wouldn’t be able to touch him or smile at him, like I’d dreamed about doing since the day I didn’t return his calls.

And I wouldn’t be able to kiss him sweetly.

I had to stay away.

My stomach churned when I realized he probably wouldn’t care about me anymore. Not after the way I simply cut him off—no explanation, nothing.

Pushing through the doors into the cool, fresh air, I inhaled deeply. Feeling instantly better, I tucked my hair behind my ears. Now that it was styled into a short bob, it always felt strange. I missed my long hair.

Beginning my walk home, I smiled up at the blue sky and the birds swooping around the tops of the trees. Nature calmed me; it always had.

I had only made it a few hundred yards when I saw Judson’s car, surrounded by Rune’s old friends. Avery was the only girl amongst a crowd of boys. I put my head down and tried to rush past, but she called out my name. I ground to a halt and forced myself to turn in her direction. Avery pushed off from where she had been leaning against the car and stepped forward. Deacon tried to pull her back, but she shrugged off his arm. I saw by her smug expression that she wasn’t going to be kind.

“Have you heard?” she asked, a smile on her pink lips. Avery was beautiful. When I arrived back in town, I couldn’t believe how beautiful she had become. Her make-up was always perfect and her long blond hair was always neatly styled. She was everything a boy would want in a girl, and everything most girls wanted to be.

I pushed my hair back behind my ear, a habit that showed my nerves. “Heard what?” I asked, knowing exactly what she meant.

“About Rune. He’s coming back to Blossom Grove.”

I could see the glint of happiness in her blue eyes. I glanced away, determined to keep my composure, and shook my head. “No, Avery, I hadn’t heard. I haven’t been back long myself.”

I saw Ruby, Deacon’s girlfriend, walking up to the car, Jorie walking beside her. When they saw Avery talking to me, they hurried to join us. I loved them both for this. Only Jorie knew where I’d been for the past couple of years, why I had left. But from the minute I’d returned, Ruby had acted as though I’d never been away. They were true friends, I had realized.

“What’s going on here?” Ruby asked casually, but I could hear the edge of protectiveness in her voice.

“I was asking Poppy if she knew Rune was coming back to Blossom Grove tonight,” Avery replied tartly.

Ruby looked at me curiously.

“I didn’t know,” I told her. Ruby smiled sadly at me.

Deacon walked up behind his girlfriend and put an arm around her shoulders. He flicked his chin at me in greeting. “Hey, Pops.”

“Hey,” I replied.

Deacon turned to Avery. “Ave, Rune hasn’t spoken to Poppy in years, I’ve told you this. She doesn’t even know him anymore. Of course she wouldn’t know he was coming back, why would he even tell her?”

I listened to Deacon and knew he wasn’t being cruel to me. But it didn’t mean that his words didn’t cut as deeply as a spear through the heart. And now I knew; I knew that Rune never spoke of me. It was obvious he and Deacon had remained close. It was obvious to me that I was nothing to him now. That I was never mentioned.

Avery shrugged. “I just wondered, is all. She and Rune were inseparable until he left.”

Taking this as my cue to leave, I waved my hand. “I have to go.” I quickly turned and headed home. I decided to cut through the park that would lead me to the blossom grove. As I walked through the empty grove, the cherry blossom trees bare of their pretty leaves, a sadness filled me.

These bare branches were as empty as I felt. Yearning for the thing that made them complete, but knowing that no matter how much they wished, they couldn’t get them back until spring.

The world simply didn’t work that way.

When I got home, my mama was in the kitchen. Ida and Savannah were sitting at the table doing their homework.

“Hey, baby,” said my mama. I walked over and gave her a hug, holding on to her waist just that little bit tighter than usual.

My mama tilted up my head, a worried look in her tired eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired, Mama. I’m gonna go lie down.”

My mama didn’t let me go. “You sure?” she asked, laying her palm on my forehead, checking my temperature.

“Yeah,” I promised, moving her hand and kissing her cheek.

I made my way to my bedroom. I stared out the window at the Kristiansen house. It was unchanged. No different than the day they had left to return to Oslo.

They hadn’t sold it. Mrs. Kristiansen had told my mama that they knew they’d be back at some point, so they kept it. They loved the neighborhood and loved the house. A housekeeper had cleaned and maintained it every few weeks for two years to make sure it would be ready for their return.

Today, all the curtains were drawn back and the windows were open to let in the fresh air. The housekeeper was clearly preparing it for their imminent arrival. The homecoming that I was dreading.

Drawing the curtains that my daddy put up for me when I returned home a few weeks ago, I lay on my bed and closed my eyes. I hated feeling fatigued all of the time. By nature, I was an active person, viewing sleep as a waste of time when it could be spent out in the world, exploring and making memories.

But now I had no choice.

I pictured Rune in my mind’s eye, and his face stayed with me as I fell into a dream. It was the dream I dreamed most nights—Rune holding me in his arms, kissing my lips and telling me that he loved me.

I didn’t know how long I slept, but when I woke up, it was to the sound of trucks arriving. Loud banging and familiar voices came from across the yard.

Sitting up, I wiped the sleep from my eyes. Realization dawned on me.

He was here.

My heart began to pound. It beat so fast that I gripped myself for fear it would leap out of my chest.

He was here.

He was here.

I got out of bed and positioned myself in front of the drawn curtains. I leaned in close so I could hear what was going on. I picked out my mama’s and daddy’s voices amongst the drone, along with the familiar sounds of Mr. and Mrs. Kristiansen.

Smiling, I reached out to pull back a curtain. I stopped; I didn’t want them to see me. Backing away, I rushed upstairs to my daddy’s office. It was the only other window that looked out onto their house, a window where I could hide in plain sight due to the light tint that shielded it from the bright sun.

I moved to the left-hand side of the window, just in case anyone glanced up. I smiled again when my eyes fell upon Rune’s parents. They looked barely any different. Mrs. Kristiansen was still as beautiful as ever. Her hair was cut shorter, but apart from that she was exactly the same. Mr. Kristiansen had gone slightly grayer, and he looked like he’d lost some weight, but the difference was small.

A young blond boy ran out the front door, and my hand flew to my mouth when I saw it was little Alton. He would be four now, I calculated. He’d grown so much. And his hair was just like his brother’s, long and straight. My heart squeezed. He looked exactly like a young Rune.

I watched the movers refurnish the house with incredible speed. But there was no sign of Rune.

Eventually my parents came back inside, but I kept vigil by the window, waiting patiently for the boy who had been my world for so long that I didn’t know where he began and I ended.

Over an hour passed. Night drew in and I was giving up hope of seeing him at all. As I was about to leave the office, I saw movement from behind the Kristiansens’ house.

Every one of my muscles tensed as I caught a tiny flicker of light shining in the dark. A white cloud of smoke burst through the air above the patch of grass between our two houses. At first I wasn’t sure what I was seeing, until a tall figure, dressed all in black, emerged from the shadows.

My lungs ceased to function as the figure stepped into the glow of the streetlight and stopped dead. Leather biker jacket, black shirt, black drainpipe jeans, black suede boots … and long, bright-blond hair.

I stared and stared, a lump blocking my throat, as the boy with wide shoulders and impressive height lifted his hand and raked it through his long hair.

My heart skipped a beat. Because I knew that movement. I knew that strong jaw. I knew him. I knew him as well as I knew myself.

Rune.

It was my Rune.

A cloud of smoke blew from his mouth again, and it took me a few moments to realize what I was actually seeing.

Smoking.

Rune was smoking. Rune didn’t smoke; he would never have touched cigarettes. My mamaw had smoked her entire life and died too young from lung cancer. We had always promised each other we would never even try it.

It was clear that Rune had broken that promise.

As I watched him take another drag, and push back his hair for the third time in a few minutes, my stomach plummeted. Rune’s face tipped upward into the glow of the light as he exhaled a stream of smoke into the cool night breeze.

So here he was. Seventeen-year-old Rune Kristiansen, and he was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. His crystal-blue eyes were as bright as they had always been. His once-boyish face was now rugged and completely breathtaking. I used to joke he was as handsome as a Norse god. As I studied every part of his face, I was certain his looks surpassed even them.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Rune finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground, the light from the stub gradually fading to black in the short grass. I waited with bated breath to see what he would do next. Then his pappa came to the edge of the porch and said something to his son.

I watched Rune’s shoulders tense and his head snap in the direction of his pappa. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I heard clearly the raised voices, heard Rune responding aggressively to his pappa in his native Norwegian. His pappa dropped his head in defeat and headed back to the house, clearly hurt at something Rune had said. As Mr. Kristiansen walked away, Rune stuck his middle finger up at his retreating back, only dropping it when the front door of their house slammed shut.

I watched, rigid with shock. I watched as this boy—a boy I once knew so completely—became a stranger before my eyes. Disappointment and sadness washed over me as Rune began to pace across the yard between our two houses. His shoulders were stiff. I could almost feel the anger radiating off him even from this vantage point.

My worst fears had been realized: the boy I knew had gone.

Then I froze, stock still, as Rune stopped pacing and glanced at my bedroom window, directly below where I was standing. A gust of wind blew across the yard, lifting his long blond hair off his face and, in that second, I could see incredible pain, severe longing, in his eyes. The image of his strained face, as he stared at my window, hit me harder than a train. In that lost expression was my Rune.

This boy, I recognized.

Rune stepped toward my window, and for a moment, I thought he would try to climb through, the way that he did for all those years. But, abruptly, he stopped and his hands balled at his sides. His eyes closed and his teeth gritted together so tightly that I could see the tension in his jaw from where I stood.

Then, clearly changing his mind, Rune turned on his heel and pounded toward his house. I stayed at the office window, in the shadow. I couldn’t move with the shock of what I’d just witnessed.

Rune’s bedroom light turned on. I saw him walk around his room, then move to the window and sit on the wide ledge. He cracked it open. He lit another cigarette and blew the smoke through the open gap.

I shook my head in disbelief. Then someone entered the office, and my mama came to my side. When she peered out the window, I knew she’d realize what I was up to.

I felt my cheeks flame with heat at being caught. Finally, my mama spoke. “Adelis said that he’s no longer the boy we knew. She said he’s given them nothing but trouble since they went back to Oslo. Erik is lost and has no idea what to do. They’re real glad Erik got moved back here. They wanted Rune away from the bad crowd he fell in with in Norway.”

My gaze fell on Rune again. He threw the cigarette from the window, and rolled his head to lean against the glass. His eyes were focused on one thing and one thing only—my bedroom window.

As my mama moved to leave the office, she laid her hand on my shoulder. “Maybe it was a good thing you broke all contact, baby. I’m not real sure he could have handled everything you went through, from what his mamma has said.”

Tears filled my eyes as I wondered what had made him this way. Into this boy I didn’t know. I had deliberately cut myself off from the world for the past couple of years to save him pain. So that he could live a good life. Because knowing that over in Norway was a boy whose heart was still filled with light made everything I was going through bearable.

But that fantasy was quashed as I studied this doppelgänger of Rune.

This Rune’s light was dim, nothing glittered bright. It was obscured by shadow and mired in darkness. It was as though the boy I had loved had been cast aside in Norway.

Deacon’s car pulled into the driveway of Rune’s house. I saw Rune’s cell light up in his hand, and he slowly made his way from his room and sauntered off the porch. He walked with a careless swagger toward Deacon and Judson, who jumped out of the car. He slapped them both on the back in greeting.

Then my heart cracked in two. Avery slid out of the back seat and hugged Rune hard. She was wearing a short skirt and cropped top, showcasing her perfect figure. But Rune didn’t hug her back—though that did nothing to lessen my pain. Because Avery and Rune, standing side by side, looked so perfect. Both tall and blond. Both beautiful.

They all piled into the car. Rune got in last, taking shotgun, and then they rolled away from our street and out of sight.

I sighed as I watched the taillights fade into the night. When I looked back at the Kristiansen house, I saw Rune’s pappa standing at the edge of the porch, gripping the railing, staring in the direction in which his son had just departed. Then he lifted his face to the office window, and a sad smile spread on his lips.

He’d seen me.

Mr. Kristiansen lifted his hand and gave me a small wave. As I waved back, I saw a look of utter sadness etched on his face.

He looked tired.

He looked heartbroken.

He looked like he missed his son.

I returned to my room, lay back on my bed and pulled my favorite photo frame into my hands. As I stared down at the beautiful boy and the smitten girl staring back, both so in love, I wondered what had happened in the last two years to make Rune as troubled and rebellious as he appeared to be.

Then I cried.

I cried for the boy who was my sun.

I mourned the boy I once loved with everything I had.

I mourned Poppy and Rune—a couple of extreme beauty and even quicker death.