Free The Silver Kiss by Annette Curtis Klause

Lorraine didn’t have to get her a present to be remembered. I won’t wear it, she thought. I don’t like it.
    â€œShoes!” Lorraine screamed like a war cry, causing several passersby to turn and stare. What a subtle way of avoiding sentiment, Zoë thought with wry amusement.
    Lorraine launched into a monologue as they headed for the nearest shoe store. “I love shoe shopping, especially if it’s a salesman. They grovel at your feet, and run and fetch, and put them on for you. God, it gives me a feeling of power.”
    After the final purchase they had pizza at the Roma. They recognized some kids from school there.
    â€œPeter Ziegler,” Lorraine moaned. “I hope I don’t get something stuck between my teeth.”
    Zoë chuckled. “I don’t think it matters, since he probably won’t come over here anyway.”
    â€œKilljoy. Hey, he’s with that Keith whatzisname you went out with last spring. What was wrong with him? I can’t remember.”
    Zoë sighed. “Nothing was wrong with him. I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t attracted to him.”
    â€œWhen will you be attracted, Zo, for goodness’ sake? I mean, my God, you’re almost seventeen.”
    â€œI know, I know.” Zoë pushed a pizza crust around her plate, annoyed at having to go through this again. Lorraine seemed to think that everyone should have hyperactive hormones like her.
    â€œSorry, I’ve pissed you off, haven’t I? I’ll back off.”
    Zoë had to admit it was a rare perceptive moment on Lorraine’s part. The girls’ eyes met then in an unspokenpeace agreement, and they ate for a while in companionable silence.
    Boys, Zoë thought. Why aren’t I as loony about them as Lorraine? I guess people are different. She smiled at how ludicrously obvious that statement was. But they seem to like me, so I suppose I’m not gross or anything, she decided. She remembered suddenly the pale boy in the park—a surprisingly clear glimpse of him, sparklingly sharp in the moonlight. She tried to dismiss her excitement with anger. I guess I was supposed to be flattered.
    â€œLet’s see a movie,” Lorraine said, brushing the crumbs from around her mouth. “They’ve got an el cheapo horror twilight show at the Cinema Three. None left alive for two twenty-five.”
    â€œI’d rather not,” Zoë said a little too fast. She saw Lorraine cringe at her mistake. Feeling sorry for her, she added, “There’s a new French movie there, too, that everyone’s been talking about. Perhaps we could see that.”
    Lorraine relaxed. “I try
not
to talk about things like that. Anyway, whenever I see a movie with subtitles, I come out expecting to see them in real life for an hour or two. It’s weird.”
    â€œWhat’s the other one?”
    â€œOh, something based on a Saturday-morning cartoon.”
    â€œYuck!”
    â€œNo kidding!”
    They decided to forget about a movie and take the bus back to Oakwood. Zoë was relieved. She didn’t think shecould sit through a movie, no matter how entertaining. By the time they got off the bus at Oakwood Village the daylight had fled, and the streetlights come on. As the world became darker, so did Zoë’s mood. How could I go out and enjoy myself? she thought.
    As if she had read Zoë’s thoughts, Lorraine tugged at her arm briefly. “Hey, it was good, right? You needed a break.”
    â€œYeah.” Zoë had to admit that she’d needed it, but now she should get back to the house. Perhaps she’d missed a vital phone call while she was out. However, now that she was near, she dreaded going home; she dreaded the news a phone call might bring.
    â€œEarth to Zoë! Come in, please.”
    Zoë looked up with a start.
    â€œI was saying,” Lorraine continued, “I have to run into the