Chapter 2: Guard Your Heart

I stood stunned, blinking at the sudden brightness of the sun as the clouds parted in the sky. My heart raced faster than my thoughts as I tried to process what had just happened. Why did Dean kiss me? It couldn't have been his idea.

"Who dared you to kiss me? Who was it? Tell me right now!" I demanded, my fingers curling into fists.

Dean shook his head in denial. "No one dared me. You've got to believe me."

"Well, I don't. Was it Jasmine?"

"No. She wouldn't do—"

"Was it Shawn?" I interrupted.

"Absolutely not."

"Then why would you kiss me?" I asked, befuddled. He seemed sincere, but—

"I would also like to know the answer to that question," my father replied.

Surely, my red face could rival a ripe tomato. I forgot we were behind the church where everybody and their brother, or my father, could hear me shouting.

"Melaney, please go to the car. Your mother and sister are waiting for you. I need to speak to Dean." My father sounded calm, as in the calm before the storm.

I should stay and save Dean, but I wouldn't. He deserved my father's wrath this time. I headed for the car, albeit slowly.

"Let me be very clear. You will not kiss my daughter again. Melaney is a good girl, and she will remain that way despite of all the boys who try to steal her innocence. Do you understand?" my father warned.

"Yes, sir," Dean said, without a hint of shame in his voice.

"Good. Now go home before you get into any more trouble," my father insisted.

On my way to the car, I studied the faces of the people in front of the church, praying no one else heard or saw the kissing incident and its aftermath. No one glared at me with disdain. Thank heavens I wouldn't be the latest topic of gossip.

My father caught up with me in the parking lot.

"Dad, I can explain."

"No need. I saw the look on your face when Dean kissed you."

Embarrassment heated my face again.

"We'll talk more before lunch."

"Okay," I reluctantly agreed. 

We walked to the car together. I slid in the back with Megan, waiting to hear a snide remark from her or a reprimand from Mom, but they didn't say a word as Dad drove home.

Megan jumped out of the car, into the house, and up the stairs to her room as I followed behind. 

"It's your turn to help Mom with lunch," I said to her closing door. I went to my room, belly flopped on my floral bedspread, and briefly considered burying myself under the covers for the rest of the day.

Jasmine would be calling soon. I didn't know what to say to her. Should I accuse her of daring Dean to kiss me? She did dare Dean to kiss my mother once. And he did. In Sunday school.

Back then, Mom was our Sunday school teacher, and Dean had a huge crush on her and her chocolate chip cookies. He had lived with Jasmine's family for about six months and followed Jasmine and me everywhere. We were ten, and he was nine. Like all siblings, Jasmine enjoyed teasing her younger foster brother. She told him if he loved Mrs. Miller so much, he should kiss her.

Right smack in the middle of a lesson about loving your neighbor, Dean had raised his hand. "I have a question, but I don't want everyone to laugh at me." Of course, my mom leaned down close to him so no one else could hear. He pressed his lips to hers. She'd backed away faster than a bare hand on a hot oven. Dean grinned. "The answer is yes. You do taste as sweet as your cookies." My mom shook her head for a few seconds and then regained her composure. "Dean, please remember that a gentleman always gets permission before kissing a girl. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Mrs. Miller. May I kiss M—" Dean never finished his request.

"No, Dean. You may not kiss my daughter." She sighed. "I meant for you to get consent from the girl before you kissed her." Everyone laughed, but me. Even Jasmine.

Dean had forgotten my mother's advice, obviously, since he didn't get permission before he kissed me or the other victims of Jasmine's dares. Those dares might have been funny when we were little girls, but not so much now.

I wanted my first kiss to be special. With someone I loved. Who loved me. I did love Dean, but only as a friend. He said he 'cared' about me. What did that mean?

I could talk to Jasmine about anything. But this? Not if she dared him to kiss me. I would die from humiliation. And he was her foster brother. Wasn't there some girl code about dating brothers?

Dating? I could never date Dean. It would be too awkward, as would discussing the incident with Jasmine, so "mums the word" about his kiss.

One problem solved. Now, what should I say to my father? I didn't have any previous experience with unwanted advances from boys.

My father knocked on my open door, which left no time to formulate a plausible explanation for Dean's behavior, other than Jasmine dared him. I couldn't get my best friend in trouble though.

I sat up in bed and twisted a corkscrew curl around my finger. "Dad, I'm so confused. I don't know why Dean kissed me. I've never given him any encouragement."

He sat on the bed beside me. "I believe you, sweetie."

I rolled my eyes at the endearment. I was sixteen, not two.

"Dean's all shock and awe. He plays tricks on people just to see their reactions. Please don't take his kiss too seriously. He can be quite charming when necessary, but don't be fooled by his attentions. He'll soon get bored and move on to the next pretty face. Please guard your heart. Don't let it be broken by boys like Dean."

His advice made sense. Dean probably just kissed me to watch my reaction. "Thanks, Dad. Dean won't fool me again. I promise to guard my heart."

"Good. I couldn't bear to see my little girl hurt." Dad pulled on one of my curls.

"I'm not so little anymore."

"But you're not too big to give your dad a hug." He held out his arms.

I wrapped mine around his middle and squeezed. "No, dad. I'll never be too big for a hug."

My cell rang in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked the screen. "It's Jas."

"Don't chat too long. Lunch will be ready soon." He left the room.

"Okay." I shut the door behind him and accepted the call. "Hello."

"Hey, bestie. Did you talk to Dean about the cricket?" she asked.

"Yes." I sighed. "He didn't have an ounce of remorse about his actions." Not about the cricket. Or the kiss, but I wasn't mentioning that to Jasmine.

"He never does, but he should. I overheard— Jasmine's voice lowered to a whisper—Mr. Kline talking on the phone to Jonathan about expelling Dean from church. The cricket was the last straw. The church board is meeting tomorrow. If Dean's not at youth group on Wednesday, we'll know he got kicked out."

"Maybe, if he apologized, he could stay?" I doubted it, as soon as the question left my mouth.

"I think it'll be too little, too late. I've never seen the pastor so mad."

"Me either."

Mom called for me from downstairs.

"I have to go. Chat later? After seven?" I suggested.

"Okay. I'll keep my ears open for any news about Dean. Bye."

I ended the call and headed for the kitchen toward the tantalizing aroma of teriyaki chicken and veggie stir fry. No doubt, Dad had told Mom about the embarrassing kissing incident behind the church and our talk, and she decided to make my favorite meal to help me feel better. They both smiled knowingly as I sat down at my seat.

I waited for a comment from them or Megan, but she only discussed the demise of Dean's cricket and the antics of the kids in her Sunday school class. As we ate the delicious food, my parents laughed at Megan's tales, but didn't mention my misadventure. When our bellies were full and our plates were empty, Megan reminded me it was my turn to do the dishes. She and my parents went to the living room to play Skip Bo. I cleared the table, placing the dirty dishes and utensils in the dishwasher, and filled the sink with bubbly detergent and hot water for the large pots and pans.

My cell beeped for a text. I checked the message.

Dean: Are you still allowed to speak to me?

Me: Yes, but I'm doing dishes now. I'll call you later.

I intended to obey my parents, as always. I had to tell Dean that he couldn't kiss me again. But how would he react? Would he be upset? Or would he just laugh, because the kiss was just another prank of his?

Fearing he would make fun of me, I found "Burn the Ships" on my playlist and sang along while I scrubbed and rinsed the pots and pans. I left them on the rack to dry and fled upstairs to my room. I plopped my backside on my bed and stared at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, gathering the gumption to call Dean. Better now, than later. I pulled out my phone and pressed call.

"Thanks for calling me back." He sounded grateful.

"Listen, Dean. I promised my father you wouldn't kiss me again."

"Oh, really?" His tone implied this was a challenge he'd gladly accept.

"Yes, really. I'm not a contest you can win. I'm a person with feelings, and you hurt mine today."

"I'm sorry, Laney. I'd never intentionally hurt you. I meant what I said, I do care about you."

"Then respect my wishes, please," I insisted with all the confidence I could muster. "You know I'm a boring, good girl who obeys her parents and all the other commandments."

"I like that about you. You keep me from getting grounded."

Just what every girl longed to hear about herself. "Maybe not this time. Mr. Kline threatened to have you banned from church. He's speaking to the board at their meeting tomorrow."

"Can the board actually ban a person from the church?" Dean sounded worried, for once.

"Possibly. I've never seen the pastor so furious. What will your mom say if he calls?"

"She won't answer the phone. She's out of town for the week or two on important business. She left money for food and told me not to call unless I was in the hospital or jail. I think she's in Jersey or Carolina. She might be back on Saturday, or not. Who knows? I can take care of myself." He acted tough, but he must be lonely. I wouldn't want to stay in that big house alone.

"Have you ordered pizza all week?" I asked.

"Of course, for lunch and dinner. I eat cereal for breakfast."

"Why don't you come for dinner tomorrow. I may be able to persuade Mom to make your favorite: mac' n' cheese, fried fish, and stewed tomatoes."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not in any hurry to see your father again."

I had to grin. My father was formidable when necessary. "I guess I'll see you on Wednesday at youth group then."

"I hope so."

"Me too. Bye." I'd miss Dean if he couldn't come, but I wasn't going to tell him that.