Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Three Kisses

                    Three Kisses
                    by H. Linn Murphy

    My first kiss with Jamie Spindrift,the chocolate-haired rock star stud every girl was after, was about on par with the Hindenburg disaster. I don't know if he was put up to it, or just insane. We were standing in the hall after Math and he looked deeply into my eyes. We both went in for the kill, and then I sneezed.

    My head flung back, my eyes shut, and then I head-butted him so hard in the nose that blood came gushing out like Old Faithful geyser at Yellowstone. I found out later from my friend Jackie in Homeroom, that I had broken his nose. I was certain it was curtains for my kissing career. After all, who wants to kiss a girl who maims you for life and sneezes in your face? I might as well put on a wimple and join a convent.

    My second kiss with Jamie was little better. I had to applaud his chutzpa for being willing to take a second chance. That dare from his friends must have been a doozy. I was so petrified that I'd do some kind of hideous reprise that my kiss ranked somewhere next to that kiss your mom gives you right between when she hands you your tray of chicken noodle soup and crackers; and when she pats you on the head and tells you to get some sleep so you'll feel better tomorrow.

    Grandma June gives better pecks on the cheek when she asks if you've started liking boys yet. I was certain I'd be utterly dateless until the next ice age when everybody heard about my lack of kissing skill. I might as well buy stock in Ben and Jerry's and a box-full of cats.

    But somehow the planets must have aligned correctly or something. Number three kiss shot me into orbit. I had just seen Jamie go down the hall with that skank Mitzi Banner. I thought  he was about the lowest scum in the pond if he was going to drag around with her. I went to the bathroom to have a short meltdown when Mitzi came in telling everybody Jamie Spindrift was a putz for turning her down for the Winter Formal. When I came out of the bathroom, there he was, right there like an ambush—but a fantastic ambush.

    “Hey, Chesin, did you finish your Geometry homework?” he asked.
    But I heard, “Will you go with me to the Winter Formal?”
    “YES! I'd love to!” I said, because I was temporarily an idiot and in need of duct tape.
    The look on his face was like my little brother's look when he finally found his MP3 player in that dump of his after three months of looking—more than a little confused, but overjoyed.

    And then I, Beckah Chesin, was in his arms! And he was saying he'd loved me since seventh grade when he saw me trying desperately to climb the stupid rope in gym class. Funny how I only remember falling on my butt over and over and how much it hurt. He remembered me getting up and trying it until I finally made it. I told him how ridiculous that was until he stopped my words with his lips.

    Suddenly there were parades with one hundred and six piece bands. Lions roared in the zoo. Flowers bloomed and meteors fell out of the sky. I wondered why I'd never kissed him before. That was all before my head blew apart into bazillions of heart-shaped pieces and rainbows flickered behind my eyes. And then I was drowning in luscious blue velvet and his mint-flavored toothpaste with a touch of Proactive.

    I could feel him smile as we rose to the surface for air, two fish rising to the same mayfly. “You were worth the wait, Beckah Chesin,” he whispered. He kissed my cheeks and my knees stopped holding my body up. I nearly hit the floor but Jamie made a lucky save. “Where are you going?”
    “Well I was thinking of visiting Australia but my mom is expecting me for dinner.”
    “Ha ha.”
    “You can laugh when I've just learned to walk on air?”
    “Apparently.” He kissed me again, effectively ruining my prospects for walking to class, let alone home from school.
    “I hate to think how much practice it took you to get this good at kissing,” I told him, worried that I'd start drooling or something equally idiotic.
    “No practice. I'm just gifted. Now shut up and make me glad I'm going to be late for English.”

    And that's how I flunked my Geometry test for the only time, for which I'll be forever grateful the rest of my life.