Page 41 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

STOLEN KISSES IN THE LIbrARY

Cassandra

My father’s first decision after being selected as principal was to build Sainte Madeleine its very own library. It’s his second-best decision, if I do say so myself, and including chocolate cake in our Wednesday menu is the first.

Before that, we relied on Le Port’s public library, which is still severely small and underfunded.

The budget for ours was really tight, and I vaguely remember the stress stretching over months, making our family brittle, ready to snap at every little thing, but the end result was, well, is still totally worth it.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “You were?”

I place the French poetry book back on the shelf and turn around, crossing my arms over my chest. Caleb approaches me with a lopsided, cocky grin, hands buried in the front pocket of his sweater.

“You’re a hard one to find, Rivera.” He wets his lips, touching his chin like he’s deep in thought. It must be hard, for a boy like him, to be thinking this hard. Caleb is nothing like Beckett.

“Am I?” I tilt my head to the side, my ponytail swinging behind me. “I don’t think I am.”

A single black strand falls over his forehead, and I fight the urge to touch it.

“You are.” He steps closer. I step back. The wooden shelves creak behind me. “But a little bird gave me a tip. Made things a whole lot easier.”

“Kayla did this?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

She’s determined to push us together, acting like my very own cupid. It’s sweet, but unnecessary. He’s all over me already. They all are.

“She needs to stop mingling.”

Caleb’s hand finds the sides of my face, bringing me closer. “I kind of like her mingling.”

“Not here.” I shake my head, stepping aside.

He follows, and it’s a weird dance between us.

One where he’s chasing me, and I’m all set on avoiding him, until my back hits the very end of the aisle.

I’m not opposed to kissing boys, especially ones that look and sound like Caleb does.

But the library isn’t the time or place.

I mean, my father is always nearby, and I don’t want him to catch us making out.

“Stop!” I giggle, trying to keep my voice low.

“One kiss,” he begs me, sounding playful and kind, but his eyes aren’t.

There’s something sharp in them, as he drags my face closer to his, something I’ve learned to recognize all too well.

“Not here, please,” I repeat myself, pressing my lips together, my voice softer this time.

Caleb groans dramatically, “Why not?”

I think I could grow to really like him if we get to know each other more. If we had more time and more privacy. If this felt less like a game and more like…

Maria still isn’t over him .

I can tell.She’s always trying to get his attention, trying to talk to him after class, but he ignores her completely.

Girls can hurt each other in ways no one else does.

If she saw us together right now, she’d have every right to be angry.

Caleb moved on so quickly, but that’s what guys do.

They never seem to feel heartbreak the same way we do.

“You’re such a tease, Cassandra.”

I gasp, “I’m not!”

“Remember what you told me last night? That thing you showed me in the pictures?” His hand finds the curve of my waist, which he grabs too firmly to be playful. Goosebumps scatter across my skin, but it’s far from exciting. “And you promised me a kiss.”

“I did not!”

I promised him a kiss eventually.

Eventually is the key word in that sentence.

“You basically owe me after teasing me so hard.”

“And here I thought you liked talking to me,” I hum under my breath, pretending to be nonchalant. “I owe you absolutely nothing, Monteiro.”

“Not even a kiss?”

He pauses, taking a look back and glancing at the other end of the aisle.

I can smell the paint that’s coating his fingers.

Caleb likes to draw—he even sketched me a few rough portraits from memory.

I keep the drawings hidden underneath my pillow, next to Lucia’s headband.

And when it’s late at night and nobody is watching, I cross my face until the paper starts to rip in the middle.

“Can’t this wait till after class?” I offer, making sure I sound sweet enough. “I could meet you at Silvio’s.”

He bites his lower lip and shakes his head.

“I’m not working tonight.”

“I know that. We could go out on a date instead.” I touch his chest lightly, bringing him closer.

“I don’t know.” He kisses the sides of my face. “I kind of want my kiss right now.”

Caleb often gets this far away kind of look, like he’s thinking about someone else when we’re together, unless I’m always keeping him at one hundred. I don’t know if it’s just the awkwardness between us that makes it happen, or if I genuinely annoy him sometimes.

I push him away from me. “You say that. But what if Maria finds out about us? What if she gets hurt?”

Will you care?

Tell me you won’t.

The answer he gives me makes my tongue feel heavy.

His voice drops an octave, low but steady, “Cassandra, nobody will know if you don’t kiss and tell.”

A single rumor could bring us a huge headache.

“A kiss.” His mouth hovers over mine. I breathe in deeply. “It’s just one kiss, Cassandra. Please.”

This feels like a test. A lump starts to form in my throat, my mind racing to form a coherent thought.

Caleb presses me against the bookshelf, his mouth now hovering over mine.

It makes me freeze up against him, how his hands slowly rise from the curve of my waist to the swell of my breasts.

One second, and his breath tastes like mint on my tongue.

The world starts to get a little blurry.

“You kissed me.” He leans in to kiss me again, but I push against his chest, laughing nervously. “God, you really kissed me.”

Wasn’t this what I wanted?

“I kissed you.”

“I…”

A book crashes to the floor. I pause mid-sentence, my head snapping towards the sound.

Angelina Cardoso stands at the other end of the aisle, her hands frozen mid-air.

Her arms are wrapped in thin white bandages, her long brown hair tied up in a messy French braid.

She looks like one of these sad, artsy girls I often see pictures of on the Internet—pretty and broken, like a cursed doll.

Thick dark frames are hiding the way her soft eyebrows shoot up, but her eyes lock onto mine, sharp and knowing.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Caleb forces a grin, feigning calmness. “Well, you are now.”

And though he tries, I can tell there’s irritation slipping through.

She gestures towards the book, still left on the floor. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me just get this and leave you two alone.”

I blink hard, watching her lower herself to pick it up. Her gaze won’t leave me. She’s… God, I can’t believe it. She’s worried.

Angelina is worried about me.

Who does she think she is?

“Caleb?” her voice is quiet, but it cuts like a glass. “Zacharias and Gabriel are looking for you. You owe them money, apparently.”

His face falls. “But I won the bet. If anything, they owe me.”

“What bet?” I blurt out, wanting to know what that’s about.

“Soccer,” Caleb answers. “Our team won against the public school kids again.”

“Really?”

“Mateo got the last penalty.”

Angelina walks until she reaches half of the aisle, fingers brushing over each book as if she’s reading what’s written on each spine just to find a very specific one.

ButI can tell she’s really not because her attention is entirely on Caleb and me.

This is a girl who doesn’t know her way around.

She’s probably never ever stepped foot in this library before.

She doesn’t even blink, speaking to him again but staring entirely at me, something heavy behind her eyes. “You should really go talk to them before they find you.”

Caleb sighs. “What do they even want?”

Angelina rises again, waving her free hand around dismissively. “I mean, duh. What else besides their money?”

I fix my lip gloss with the tips of my fingers. My lips are still tingling.

“You should go,” I say quietly, not daring to look Caleb in the eye. “I have homework to do.”

“I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Sure.”

I watch him leave, my chest tightening. Angelina places her book back in an empty spot, pressing it until the spine disappears between all the other volumes on display.

“Caleb Monteiro? Really?”

Her questions sound more curious than judgmental, but I feel defensiveness rising inside of me as a response nonetheless.

“Nothing is happening,” I snap, stepping forward and towards her.

“Oh, am I supposed to believe that? Stop acting so dense, Cassandra.”

Angelina’s disapproval makes me freeze all over.Something about her posture reminds me so much of Lucia Evans. How she looked when someone got in her way or did something she didn’t like.

“Angelina,” I say slowly, deciding to tread very carefully. “This was nothing.”

“Nothing?” her gaze softens. “He is using you, Cassandra. He’ll get what he wants and go right back to Maria like you never even existed.”

Her words feel like getting punched in the stomach. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. The image pops in my head, and it makes me feel small, impressionable, and all the things I don’t want to be. The thought is heartbreaking to me.

“So?” I lie, pretending not to care.

“He’ll leave you with nothing,” she adds, sounding genuinely concerned.

Good.

“You sound insane,” my voice wavers as I fake a small laugh, snorting through my nose. “Like a total freak.”

She tilts her head, studying me for what feels like an eternity. Then, her expression turns passive, like she’s seeing something pathetic.

“Listen, I get it.” Angelina tries to reach me, her hand stretching to meet the angle of my elbow in what I assume would be a soothing way, but I take a step back. “You like him. I swear, I know how that feels better than anyone.”

“I don’t care,” my tone is clipped.

Her hand falters mid-air, and something flickers in her gaze, like she’s truly seeing me for the very first time.

Her eyes are filled with hurt and disappointment.

She seems understanding too, which is surprising.

I mean, how can she even begin to understand what I’m all about? This girl doesn’t even know me.

I smile humorlessly, without showing teeth, glaring at the shelf.

“What, are we friends now?”

“No,” she answers quietly. “We’re really not. But I was just trying to be helpful.”

I blink hard, fighting the urge to cry. “I don’t need your help.”

“Are you sure?” her voice drops, barely above a whisper. “Because this looked a lot like he was forcing you to kiss him instead of—”

“He wasn’t,” I snap, but it sounds a lot like a lie. “I wanted him to kiss me. I was just kidding when I said no.”

She lingers close, waiting for me to say something, to take it back. Suddenly, I feel the urge to do it, but I can’t. I don’t. Angelina straightens her shoulders, the softness in her face fading, being replaced by something cold and guarded.

“Well, at least now I know how she must have felt.”

Her voice is weak, and I know almost immediately that she’s referring to Lucia. Always this girl. Following me around, haunting me. I swear, it’s starting to get on my nerves.

“What did you just say?” I press, wanting to know what that’s about.

“Forget about it.” I watch her turn on her heel and walk away without another word.

“Angelina!” I call out her name, pressing my palms against the length of my skirt.

Her steps slow down, lingering for a second longer. It seems like she wants to say something else. Her mouth opens, but then closes again as she shakes her head gently.A bad feeling rises to my chest. It’s like she sees right through me, and it makes me feel like I’m about to explode.

“It’s never just a kiss, is it?” Angelina murmurs, almost too softly for me to hear. “They always want more. More than we can give.”

And then she’s gone.

I press my fingers to my lips, trying to keep my balance as my legs start to shake. It was just a kiss, but it wasn’t a freely given one. But why should I care? Compared to other things that have happened to me, this is nothing. Compared to what I was expecting, it’s even more disappointing.

The aisle feels quieter without Angelina in it, and a whole lot lonelier. A breeze comes in, brushing gently through my shoulders and neck, like a warm hug.

It smells like it’s going to rain later.

I hope it does.