Healing Kiss

By ChelleLee C.

ChelleLee C. * 2

Healing Kiss is the first in an exciting trilogy following an athletic, caring, but smart aleck seventeen-year-old named JenaLeigh Perkins.

For the first book, nothing in Jena's life excites or even interests her anymore. What else could she possibly need? She has the perfect boyfriend, the captain's spot on the cheerleading squad, and even offers for cheerleading scholarships. However, she feels nothing but friendship for her boyfriend, hates cheerleading, and starts to think love is a fluke.

She goes through life as expected until she involuntarily kisses some random guy named Gabriel, who happens to be part of an ancient race that is thought to be extinct. The spark between them is undeniable. It awakens something inside her and puts excitement back into her life. That is, until Jena is thrown into the middle of a war within the race where both sides want her. One side wants to protect her while the other side wants to kill her. She can't help but wonder if her stumbling upon this race is coincidence or fate. Perhaps her boring life wasn't so bad after all, and maybe--just maybe--love is real.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639857418

Book preview

Chapter 1

I run into the gym. My head feels weird, almost like a hole has formed and someone filled it in with some foreign object. I can hear myself breathe as if my head is in a tin barrel. I know I was just talking to Jeff, but even the memory feels off and foreign. I know that sounds stupid. How can a memory not feel like my own? I try to push past the odd feeling in my head and get to cheerleading practice.

My mom is seriously going to kill me, or should I say coach. She hates when I call her Mom in practice. I skid to a halt by my fellow cheerleaders. Coach isn’t anywhere in sight. If she knows I’m late again, she will have a fit, tell me I need to set my priorities straight, and blah, blah, blah. Nothing I haven’t heard before. In my mind, my priorities are fine. Cheerleading just happens to be at the very bottom. Well, not the very bottom, but close. I used to enjoy it, but now it seems like a chore.

Coach walks in. Stretches! she yells.

The rest of the cheerleaders and I get down and begin our stretches like normal. I start counting. One.

Two, the others return.

Three. I roll my eyes.

Four.

This is so old. Everything we do is repetitive, same thing day after day. We get the same speech about how proud Coach is, but we still need to work hard if we want to make state next year. We would’ve made it this year, except someone fell in our pyramid. Hallelujah for that. I couldn’t care less about state next year. I’m not going to be there, so why would I?

After she tells us she’s proud, she gets her clipboard and walks around us, making notes while we run over a couple routines and cheers multiple times. In between each one, she gives us critiques and says, Do it again.

Coach releases us finally after what feels like hours but, in all fairness, only two. I look up, and Brianna, my best friend since third grade, is walking toward me. She flips her hair over her shoulder. Brianna is definitely one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen. She’s tall and has chocolate brown eyes, perfect arched light brown eyebrows, and high cheekbones that always look rosy with no blush, I might add. She’s never had braces, but her teeth are straight and white. She has long thick light brown/sandy blond hair that just complements her naturally tanned skin perfectly. Which is also all natural.

Hey, you looked distracted during practice. What’s up? she asks when she is standing in front of me.

Were you thinking about Jeff? Tyler comes and stands next to Brianna.

No, I wasn’t, actually. I nudge Tyler, my other best friend who I’ve known since ninth grade. If he weren’t gay, every girl in school would be trying to get with him. He isn’t tall but not exactly short either. He is about an inch taller than me, and I’m like five feet seven. He has shoulder-length naturally red hair and light green eyes that seem to always have a gleam in them. He has pale skin with freckles and a wide smile. He has a gymnast body, lean but strong. If his looks weren’t enough, his personality would win anyone over. He’s kind, confident, doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him, and is always an optimist.

Yeah, but that was why you were late for practice, huh? Brianna grabs her bag and flings it over her shoulder.

So what if it was? We were just talking. I think we were just talking. I don’t know. It is a little fuzzy and still doesn’t seem like my memory. It’s kind of alarming to think a memory is not yours, but who else would it be?

"Yeah, right. You two just talk!" Brianna exclaims, and Tyler nods in agreement.

We were. Jeff and I haven’t been all over each other for like a year now. I don’t think we’ve even had a make out session in like a month it seems. It should bother me, but it doesn’t. Him even touching me annoys me. I, of course, hide it because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I feel myself cringe sometimes when he just kisses my cheek. All we ever do anymore is just talk because of my aversion to him touching me. I don’t know why they would think we were doing anything other than talking. Even when we didn’t just talk, we never made out in front of them or anyone, really. I’m not a fan of PDA.

Oh, girl, please! If he were my man, I’d never get off him. With that golden hair, abs of steel, and an ass that is just delicious, oh yeah, mhm, that boy is fine. Tyler licks his lips. I roll my eyes.

Wow, sounds like he’s hotter than you. Brianna runs her fingers through her hair while laughing.

Oh please, no one is hotter than me.

I laugh with them. Jeff is hot, yes, but he and I are headed to different places after this year. He’s planning on going to Boise to be a player for the BSU Broncos, and I’m staying here in Athens, Nevada, where it’s always warm. You know me, I’m not a big fan of the cold, and I’ve heard Idaho is freezing during the winter. When I get cold, my hands get stupid and don’t work. Then I get cranky.

So? Long distance relationships work. I mean, hello, we’ve all heard the story of the captain of the football team marrying his high school sweetheart, the most popular girl in school, and then living happily ever after. It’ll work. Brianna stops at her car and throws her bag in the back seat.

And you won’t have to deal with the cold. I hear sarcasm in Tyler’s voice. And when you do go and visit, you’ll have Jeff to keep you warm.

Yeah, whatever. Truth is, I don’t really wanna stay with Jeff. We’ve been together for two years, almost three, and at the beginning, it was fun. But now it’s just bleh, ya know? It’s just what we’re used to. I try to put into words how I feel about him but don’t know how.

Still don’t feel the love, huh? Tyler asks.

I shrug and shake my head. Nope. I try, but when I look at him, there is nothing there. I don’t even get butterflies or feel excitement. I don’t want to reach out and touch him and hold on to him. I don’t think about him every night before I go to sleep nor dream about him. There is just nothing there. I feel more like he’s a close friend than a boyfriend. You know, I read an article once about how love isn’t real. It’s more like a fairytale that people hold onto to cope with life. Maybe it’s true. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel anything for Jeff after all these years.

Well, that’s a depressing thought. Tyler frowns.

Hey, are we all still going to dinner and then the lake tonight for your birthday, Tyler? Brianna changes the subject as we walk to my car.

Tyler quickly agrees.

I look at them questionably.

Hey, baby, I hear Jeff say from behind me. I keep myself from slumping over in disappointment.

Hey. I turn around and hug him, not because I want to but out of habit.

All right, Tyler and I will pick you up around six, so be ready. Brianna pushes Tyler away, back toward her car.

What are you guys up to tonight? Jeff slides his hand in mine and walks me the rest of the way to my car. I keep my hand in his. It feels like it always has. His fingers squeeze mine a little too tight, but it’s warm and not clammy.

Oh, it’s Tyler’s birthday, so we’re going out to celebrate.

That sounds fun. I mean, not something I would think is fun, but fun for you.

Oh, whatever. You hang out with your friends all the time at the exact same place we’re going.

Yeah, but none of my friends are gay. Jeff leans against my hood.

That you know of. I open my door and look at him. Besides, it’s not like you’ve never hung out with him before. I try to keep my temper under control. I’m tired of Jeff always looking down on Tyler just because he’s gay.

For you, I’ve hung out with him. I had my ass up against the wall the entire time so he—

That’s enough. I’m so tired of you— I’m cut off by one of Jeff’s friends walking up to him. I turn, lean on my door, and put my workout bag in the passenger seat. It hits me how true the statement is. It’s not where I was going, but the statement still rings true in my ears. I feel bad because Jeff is a great guy, super sweet, and would do anything if I ask him, but I’m so tired of being Jeff’s girl, of being the it couple. I want to be Jena with no label.

I stand up, and my door slams shut. I feel a stab of pain go up my fingers and through my hand. I look down. My ring and middle finger are shut in between the door and the frame. It hurts, but I think it should hurt more.

Jeff looks at me wide-eyed. Oh, babe, I’m so sorry! He sounds panicked, more panicked than I feel. He opens the door slowly.

And there’s the pain. Ow, ow, ow. I pull my hand out and look at it. My fingers are already turning purple and swelling, along with the rest of my hand.

Babe, I’m really sorry. Kevin bumped into me, and I hit the door. I’m really sorry. Here, let me take—

Don’t touch me. I flinch away, not knowing if it’s because of this or because I don’t want his touch, and I didn’t catch myself before I said it. Either way, I feel bad for snapping at him.

I can tell he is hurt by me flinching away. I’m really sorry, Jeff pleads. Do you want me to take you to the ER?

No, Jeff, it’s fine. It wasn’t your fault. It’s fine. I’m gonna go home so my mom can look at it. She used to be an ER nurse. I get in my car before he can argue and head for home.

The pain starts to amplify as the shock subsides as I drive the few blocks to my house. Thankfully, the afterschool rush has pretty much died out thanks to cheerleading. Probably the only time I’ll ever be thankful for it.

I pull into the driveway and park next to my mom’s white Denali. I run into the house and slam the door behind me.

Mom! I yell, looking into the kitchen. Mom, where are you? I look in the den where her and my dad’s offices are. She is sitting at her desk with her head down and a pencil in hand. Mom.

She looks up, her hair behind her ear. Everyone says we look alike, but I don’t see it. She has mid-length deep red hair and greenish eyes. She is slender, has an athletic build, and is 5'7". I have long dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. Sure, we have the same body type, and our height is pretty much the same. We also have the same oval face. I guess I’ve never really studied everything that is alike. I’ve never really compared us. I don’t see the point. She is pretty. I’m okay, I guess.

JenaLeigh, answer me. What did you do to your hand? my mom asks impatiently.

Oh, Jeff hit my car door and slammed my fingers in the door, and now they look like plump hot dogs!

Don’t be so dramatic. They’re just a little swollen. Come here, sit down, and let’s take a look at them.

I look down at my hand again. They do look like hot dogs, and I’m not being dramatic. I flop down in the spiny chair across from her, putting my left hand carefully in her outstretched hands.

Can you bend your fingers? she asks.

I try, and pain shoots up my fingers and through my hand again. My eyes water, and I shake my head.

Okay, relax your hand now. she looks at it closely, pressing on some spots. I flinch away from her with every touch, trying to pull my hand away.

So you were late to practice again today. Were you with Jeff? I know she is trying to keep my mind off the pain.

I sigh. Why does everyone always assume Jeff? How did you know I was late? You were too.

I was in talking to the basketball coach about one of our boys who is also playing basketball when I saw you running by. So was Jeff the reason?

Yes, Mom. I was with Jeff. I think, anyway.

You know, if he’s getting pushy and what not, you know—

Mom, stop! I know what she was going to say, and I really don’t want to hear it. Even though Jeff and I have been together a long time, I’ve never wanted to be with him like that.

Well, I guess you have been dating for a long time. You’ve probably already been intimate. If you have, you can tell me.

Mom!

Well, I just want to make sure you’re being safe and smart.

Okay. Mom, just so we’ll stop having this conversation, we are being safe and smart because we haven’t done anything. I’ve never been intimate with anyone, ever. I feel myself blush. I don’t like the talk. I love my mom, but I don’t want to talk about sex with her. Gross!

Her face lit up. Good, good. She smiles. Looks like two of your fingers are broken. Let me go get the tape and I’ll tape them for you.

I don’t need to go get x-rays?

No. Your fingers are too swollen for one to show anything. They’ll just tape them up like I will. No use in wasting the money.

So you admit that they are really swollen.

They are swollen, but not like plump hot dogs. I’ll go get the tape. She gently puts my hand back on my leg.

Can I shower first? I can feel all the sweat on me from practice.

Yeah, just come back when you’re done and I’ll tape them then. Try not to move them too much.

Thanks. I run downstairs to my room and throw my backpack down and look at the clock. It’s already five. I really have to hurry. I’m not exactly the fastest person for getting ready, and now with one hand, I imagine it’ll take even longer.

I run into the bathroom, turn on the water, and strip while it warms up. It is the most painful shower ever. Doing my hair and makeup isn’t much easier. So I throw my hair in a stylish bun. Then I put on mascara and lip gloss. Finally, an hour later, I’m finished. So pathetic. It took me that long to do so little. I’m pretty sure the shower took the longest, but still, it’s pretty sad. I know Brianna and Tyler will be a little late, so I’m not too worried.

I grab dark blue jeans out of my drawer and slip them on. I flip through my shirts and decide on a deep green halter top with a black jacket. Finally, I make it upstairs and find my mom in the kitchen.

Mom, can you button up my pants?

She looks up at me and laughs. Come here.

I walk up to her. Don’t laugh at me. I’m injured, remember? I flash my hand in front of her face as if she needs reminding.

I’m not laughing at you, honey. This just reminds me of when you were little and couldn’t figure out how to button your pants. She smiles and buttons them up effortlessly.

Oh, well, thanks. I am ready now. I slide up on the countertop as I always have.

She grabs the tape off the table. Going somewhere?

Yeah, it’s Tyler’s birthday. We’re going to the lake. I believe I told you last week.

Oh, that’s right. I remember. Hold your hand still.

Knock, knock! I hear Brianna yell.

We’re in here!

Hiya, Coach. Tyler smiles. Sorry, Mom. He looks at me. Girl, what did you do to your hand?

Good question, Brianna agrees and leans on the counter next to me.

Jeff and Kevin were screwing around and slammed my fingers in my car door. I shrug.

Ouch. Brianna shakes her hand as if it hurt her.

Tell me they are just bruised. I mean, honey, you almost have your triple twist down. If you take a break, then we’ll have to start at the beginning again, Tyler whines while looking in the fridge.

Sorry, Tyler, two broken fingers. My mom puts the finishing tape on.

I look down at it. Oh, now that is stylish, I say in a sarcastic tone, looking down at this thick layer of tape holding two of my fingers together.

You guys have fun. Happy birthday, Tyler. And, Jena, be home by eleven, okay?

All right, bye. I hop off the counter, and Tyler shuts the fridge. We skip to the door and leave my mom in the kitchen cooking whatever it is she is cooking. It does smell good though.

Once we get in the car, Brianna turns around. Okay, so should we eat first and go to the lake or lake first, eat later?

I’m starving, so I say eat first, Tyler pipes up.

I shake my head. Tyler is always hungry, I swear. Where he puts it all is beyond me.

All right, where to, birthday boy?

Burger World.

Brianna grimaces. All right. She looks at me through the rearview mirror and rolls her eyes. I giggle under my breath. It was Tyler’s favorite place. Why did she even ask?

We pull up to Burger World, walk in, and sit in our normal booth in the corner by the window.

A tall gorgeous blond waitress walks up to our table. Do you know what drinks you would like? Her voice is sweet and almost mesmerizing, like a song you can’t get out of your head. Can I start you off with a drink? she asks again, this time not sounding so hypnotizing. Maybe I’m imagining things. My head has felt funny since practice. Maybe I’m coming down with something.

Water, please, I say.

Unsweetened tea, no lemon. Brianna looks at the back of the menu.

Coke. Tyler doesn’t even look up.

All right. I’ll be right back with those. The waitress turns around and walks, more like glides, away.

I think we go to school with her. Brianna tips her head toward the waitress who just left.

Really? I’ve never seen her. I glance up from my menu. I look her up and down, trying to find any recognition of her, and nothing is ringing a bell.

Who? Tyler sounds confused.

The waitress. I think she was in my English class last year. Her name is Destiny or something like that. Brianna looks at Tyler, who shrugs and goes back to looking at his menu. I remember turning in a paper after her once, and it was really weird. She, like, turned in a blank sheet of paper, said something to the teacher, and got an A. It was extremely trippy. Brianna looks up to see the waitress coming back with the drinks.

Here are your drinks. Do you know what you’d like to order? She takes out a notepad and pen. I notice that she has bright and full lips, high cheekbones, and bright yet soft blue eyes. I would remember her if I had ever seen her before.

Chef salad, ranch on the side, and no eggs please. Brianna shuts her menu and hands it to the waitress.

Okay. She finishes writing Brianna’s order. For you?

Chicken Caesar wrap, I say while I hand her my menu.

Would you like fries, tots, or onion rings? she asks, looking up from her order pad.

Umm, fries.

All right. And for you, sir?

Double cheeseburger, large fry, side salad with ranch, and a strawberry milkshake. Tyler shuts his menu and hands it to Brianna, who hands it to the waitress.

All right. I’ll go and put your orders in.

Damn, boy. I look at Tyler.

What? I said I was hungry, he says as he takes a drink of his Coke.

I hate you. Brianna glares.

Why? What’d I do?

You are going to eat all that and probably lose weight. But if I were to eat it, it’d go straight to my ass. Brianna crosses her arms and pouts.

As I laugh at them, my phone rings with the ring tone of This Kiss. I look down and click Ignore. I don’t feel like talking to Jeff at the moment. He’ll just keep apologizing for my hand, and personally, I am glad it happened. I mean, I’m not happy about the whole huge hand thing that looks ridiculous, but it was an excuse to go home sooner.

I look at Tyler, who is still looking at Brianna like she is crazy for thinking she is fat. "You know, that is what’s wrong with you women these days. You can be stupidly