Page 1 of Present Tense

Prologue

JILLIEN

Past

23 years ago

Oh my God. I’m so fucking bored. I’m so done with all of this and want to go home and sleep in my own bed. We got back from Italy, like, late last night. Back from the Fletcher/Thompson Italian Christmas our parents dragged us to. I know I would sound completely spoiled if I complained to anyone. I’m so lucky, I guess. But it was so long. It was cool, but whatever. Lisa was a bitch the last couple of days. I mean, ten days is too long with people who aren’t really your family. I’m sooo thankful Liam was there. And his dad is cool and funny. My dad is a dork and drank too much Limoncello, like, every night.

But our moms were the real show. They dressed up every day like Italian Vogue was scouting for forty-year-old bridge club women to be models. Hats and loud dresses. There was a day they wore gloves all day. And not for warmth. Leather gloves for fashion, like in Roman Holiday.

They both overused Italian phrases they thought they understood, but always mixed them up with some Spanish, as well. As if we couldn’t be more insulting as loud Americans. It was hella embarrassing, and I thought I would die thousands of deaths when they talked to real Italian people. They were all, “Scusi, this is bella.” Everything was bella this and bella that. Never venturing into bellissimo or piacevole. They forced us to look at tiny little translation books for hours on the plane. Liam and I speak more Italian than they do from studying during one freaking flight.

I’m hiding in the basement of a random neighbor’s house. It’s New Year’s Eve. Ring a ding. I stole a bottle of champagne and all the good appetizers—they’re gone now. It’s the millennium new year, and I’m kinda hoping that Y2K isn’t bullshit. I don’t want to go to school the day after tomorrow. And it would be nice if all the computers in the world got their memories wiped. My grades aren’t what my parents would like, and my dad will fucking rage when he finds out. I may have skipped out on school to go to New York to see Will Smith give it Big Willie Style with some friends the night before my ancient civilizations test. Ironic, since I was headed to Rome so soon after the test.

The party is raging on upstairs. We’re two doors down from my house and I just want to go home. I’m bored and I do not want to talk to Lisa right now. She told me Clark Harris told her he would never like me in a million years. First of all, how does she even know Clark Harris? And second, he might someday. If he ever stops macking on Jodie. Whatevs. Shit. Someone is coming down here. I lie flat on the couch, hoping they’ll just go away.

“I can see your argyle socks.”

“Thank God it’s you. Close the door.”

“What’s your damage?” Liam flops down on the edge of the couch. He’s just as over this fucking non-holiday break as I am. I pull out my bottle and hand it to him.

“You stole this?” I nod. “Did anyone see you?” I shake my head. “We’re going to get in trouble.”

I shake my head again. “I’m very good at not getting caught. Just drink up.”

He shrugs, then jerks his chin to me in approval. He looks cute in his jeans and tucked in blue oxford. Our parents made us kind of dress up. So I’m in an old Rolling Stones T-shirt I found and a denim miniskirt.

“Cool. Thanks.” He takes a sip, then sits up a little. He holds the bottle out in front of him and says, “Scusi. Mi amigo. This is bella. This bottle is bella. This basement is multo bella bonita biblioteca bella.” I laugh.

I respond by picking up a pillow and turning it in my hands. “The craftmanship is bella. The leather on the stitching is muy bella.” He cracks up. We both start laughing and can’t stop as we make fun of our moms. He passes the bottle back.

I say, “Bella.” He laughs again.

We hear our idiot parents upstairs screaming, “Five, four, three, two, one.” Liam leans back, smiling, and I get this insane idea. I get a lot of them, but this one is good. I scoot to the edge of the couch close to him, then straddle him, my skirt lifting out of the way. I have tights on, so who cares. He can’t see anything. His eyes, like, bug out of his head.

“Just go with it.” I lean to his face and say, “Happy New Year.” And I push my lips to his. I’m thirteen, why not kiss him? He pushes back on me, then wiggles a little. Then I’m not sure what I feel. It’s like the remote or something is stuck under my butt, but I ignore it. I pull my lips back and smile at him.

“Is that ok? Am I any good?” I ask.

He reaches out to my hips. “You’re ok, but we should probably practice.” I hit him. But why not? “And this time, open your mouth.” My eyes light up. Yes. This is the kind of practice I need. Hone my skills for Clark Harris.

“Frenching. Right?”

But before he answers, he’s kissing me with his tongue. I mean, his whole tongue, and it’s weird and wonderful. I just let my tongue lay there and play goalie. It keeps popping up when he gets a little too deep. But then I lean into him a bit more and I think I like it. I let my tongue swirl around his and I’m getting the hang of this. I’m kissing Liam and it’s not super fucking weird.

“This is awesome,” he says, and I answer while still kissing him with an uh-huh. I’m all flippy in my stomach and my insides are squirmy. His hands begin to move a little bit like he’s thinking about finding the edge of my shirt. Am I doing this right? And is he going for, like, an over the bra move? How do I feel about this? It’s totally possible he’s just being nice. But I like it, so maybe over the bra is cool. But then, when I put my hand on his shoulder, there’s a slam of the basement door, and I leap backward off his lap. I trip and go down to the floor. Liam grabs, like, two pillows and puts them where I was sitting.

“Yuck. Cut it out. What the hell are you two doing? That’s gross. We’re like cousins.”

Lisa makes me feel bad again. It’s her gift. Some days, she’s great. Like the best friend you could ever want. Fun and silly. She’s totally great and then she’s like a switch flipped, and she’s kind of mean or makes fun of me until I feel bad. I always shake it off, but still, it’s totally lame.

Liam answers and his voice is lower than it was twenty minutes ago, “Get out, Lisa. We’re just hanging out.”

I stand up from the floor. “Why? We didn’t do anything wrong.” Kissing is totally fine. I think sex is probably going to be fine, too. No big. And it’s not like we’re going to do anything else. I mean, were we? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t want to go all the way. But I like kissing him.

“Eww. As if. It’s totally gross. Jillien, your mom is completely freaking out that she can’t find you. So there’s that.”