But Laura had been compassionate, sympathetic, and hopeful.
She’d encouraged Scarlet not to give up on her past, believing Scarlet would one day recover her memories. Laura managed to give her support and understanding without treating her like a broken doll in need of repair.
Without Laura and Heather, Scarlet probably would have gone crazy.
Laura had been her rock.
And Heather had been her guiding light.
Heather kept Scarlet from sinking into depression and crying her eyes out every day. If it weren’t for Heather, Scarlet would probably be a snotty, pathetic mess.
But Heather refused to let Scarlet mope and constantly dragged her out of bed and into the real world, trying to make her have “fun” and “be happy.”
It was obnoxious.
And Scarlet loved her for it.
Heather had made it her mission to make Scarlet fully participate in life.
So, here Scarlet was, attending the blasted Kissing Festival. “Participating in life.”
And where was Heather? Running late.
Like always.
Scarlet half-heartedly watched the Main Street parade pass by. A float adorned with large papier-mâché lips cruised along advertising a variety of lipstick flavors, as couples—and strangers—throughout the street kissed unabashedly beneath hanging stars.
Scarlet raised her brow and shook her head. The kissing tradition was bizarre.
Hello, I’m a stranger. I’m going to kiss you now. Smooch-smooch.
Yeah, no thanks.
Scarlet glanced up and noticed a trio of paper stars floating above her from an extended tree branch.
Avalon folks got a little star-crazy during the festival; draping stars from just about any place available. Trees, doorways…power lines.
Scarlet quickly moved from beneath the kissing beacon to a star-free spot on the sidewalk and watched passing pedestrians casually greet one another with a smack on the lips before parting ways.
As if exchanging a kiss with your hair stylist and bank teller wasn’t weird at all.
As she looked about the town square, her gaze caught on something.
Or rather, someone.
Across the street, beyond the parade and chaos, stood a guy wearing a black T-shirt and baseball hat.
The hat was pulled low over his eyes, making it impossible for Scarlet to see his face, but she could feel him staring at her.
Intently. Deliberately.
Unashamed.
Scarlet didn’t move.
He tilted his head to the side and something deep within her began to stir.
The stirring started in the pit of her stomach, wove into her chest and wrapped itself around her heart; squeezing until her breaths became shallow.
Her heart began to hammer as she eyed him more closely.
From the way he was dressed, Scarlet assumed he was her age, seventeen or so, if not a few years older. Tufts of dark hair peeked from beneath the hat he wore, but shadows made it impossible to see his face clearly. The only features Scarlet could make out were his square jaw and full lips.
Something about him seemed familiar.
Dangerous and safe and…familiar.
Scarlet’s heart kicked a beat. Who was he?
Her brow was furrowed in deep thought when Heather suddenly appeared at her side, out of breath and doubled over.
Used to Heather’s theatrics, Scarlet barely glanced at her friend before looking back up, hoping to get one last look at the boy in black.
But he had vanished.
Scarlet’s hammering heart softened as it lowered in her chest.
“Phew!” Heather righted herself. Her blonde hair was smoothed-down beneath a pink headband, matching her pink shirt and pink shoes. She wore a short jean skirt and a sleeve of shiny bracelets.
Even sweaty and panting, Heather looked perfect.
Scarlet looked down at her own outfit of shorts and an oversized green shirt and knew Heather would not be pleased.
Heather took fashion seriously.
Scarlet did not.
Sucking in air, Heather said, “Fluffy—Mrs. Allen’s ferocious dog—chased me all the way down Pine Street trying to tear me to shreds with his razor fangs. I barely got away.”
Scarlet scrunched her face. “Isn’t Fluffy a Chihuahua?”
Still panting, Heather said, “Yes. A demon-possessed, human-eating Chihuahua.”
Scarlet nodded. “Sure.”
Heather was a bit of a drama queen.
As she caught her breath, Heather eyed Scarlet up and down, clearly forgetting about her near-death experience with the world’s smallest breed of dog. “The baggy green shirt, Scarlet? Really?”
Scarlet rolled her eyes. “It’s a kissing festival…not a fashion festival.”
“Well, thank God. Because, you’d be booed out of Avalon.” Heather ran a hand over her shiny hair. “I mean, seriously. You have a closet the size of a castle full of cute, appropriately-sized shirts…and you choose a parachute top for the Kissing Festival? Have you learned nothing from me?”
“I’ve learned not to go near Fluffy unless I want to be eaten alive by the demon puppy from hell.”
“I’m telling you, I almost died!”
“I’m sure it was a close call.” Scarlet smiled and looked back at the passing parade. The sun had dipped below the surrounding mountains, streaking the sky with the fading colors of dusk. Street lamps started to click on and tiny white lights strewn about the town began to shine against the falling shadows.
The scene was picturesque. Music in the air, twinkle lights in the sky, cobblestone streets and grassy knolls…it looked like a postcard.
“So, who should we kiss first?” Heather puckered her heavily-glossed lips.
“Uh…you can kiss whomever you’d like. I’m only here for the free mouthwash,” Scarlet said as she began moving down Main Street, Heather at her side.
The festival freebies were the only things Scarlet enjoyed about the event. Free toothpaste, free breath mints, free lip balm…it was like walking around an ad for the human mouth.
“Whatever.” Heather tossed her blond hair over her shoulder with the kind of sass only pretty girls possessed. “You’re here because you are fun and you really, really love kissing. I’m sure of it.”
“Ha,” Scarlet said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never liked kissing random strangers.”
Heather smiled playfully and nudged Scarlet’s shoulder. “Oh, but that’s the beauty of amnesia. You don’t really know what you like, so I’m here to help you remember.”
Scarlet rolled her eyes, “You don’t know what I like either.”
“True. But I know you—or, at least, the you that’s existed these last two years—and that girl is super cool and probably loves kissing strangers.”
Scarlet shook her head. “I doubt it.”
Heather tsked. “You’ll see, Scarlet. We’ll find you a hot stranger with yummy lips.”
Strange lips? Ew. “Yeah. I’m all set on lips. I’ve got my own, thank you.”
They walked past a makeshift dental booth advertising free deep cleanings. A balding man in white scrubs stood beside a dental chair, holding shiny exam instruments while he waved and smiled at people.
If red paint were splattered about, it would have looked like a scene from a horror movie.
Of course the deep cleanings were free. Who was going to pay a guy in the street to dig around inside their mouth?
Three guys Scarlet recognized from school approached them with smiles, their attention primarily focused on Heather.
And why wouldn’t it be? Heather looked like a giant piece of sexy bubblegum.