Kiss Me

by Alexandria Bishop

  “Really, what are you doing here?”

  He points over his shoulder where Marek is standing in the middle of a group of girls. One of them, in particular, is a leggy blonde who keeps touching his arm and laughing like he’s the funniest person on the planet. Desperate much? “Your brother came here to meet up with the girls he’s been hanging out with. I saw you sitting over here with snacks and that sounded like a much better time than listening to them whine one more time.”

  I pull my gaze from his eyes, although it isn’t easy, and look past his shoulders. It isn’t fair for someone to be that attractive. With a small gasp, I point and say, “Oh my gosh! Look at that.”

  It breaks the spell pulling us together and he whips around looking at the whale swimming through the water. It swims above the break, shooting water out of its blowhole before diving back down beneath the surface. I’m completely fascinated and Anders starts feeding me useless information about marine life that sounds like he read out of a brochure at an aquarium. Doesn’t matter, I hang on every single word that falls from his lips and I savor each and every one. Because who knows if this will be the last time we have a real conversation like this especially with my brother always lurking around the corner and breaking up any kind of potential moment between us.

  Chapter Ten

  Anders

  How do I even get myself into situations like this?

  From the minute the reality of my situation hit me, I’ve always had one plan in mind. Graduate high school. Get my degree. Start my own business. Do it all on my own and not relying on anyone else. Nowhere in that plan did it include distractions. And it certainly didn’t include having feelings for someone else. You can’t feel the pain of loss if you don’t ever get close enough to anyone to care for them.

  I took off this morning for a run on the beach. Each day that Marek takes off to hang out with Stacy and I’m left behind with Giselle, breaks my resolve down more and more. I have to remind myself over and over why I can’t go there. She’s underage…but not by much. She’s Marek’s sister…some friend he’s been to me lately. I don’t have time for a distraction…but what a distraction she would be. I couldn’t take it anymore and had to get out of the house.

  After watching the sun come up this morning and a five-mile run, I’m not feeling any better than before I started. If anything, I’m even more confused about everything. I kick up a pile of sand as I walk off the beach and into the backyard. I’m not surprised to see Marek hanging out by the pool, but I am surprised that he’s alone.

  Tilting his sunglasses off his eyes he asks, “Did you want to go to Pomelo tonight?”

  What the heck does that even mean? Is that a kind of fruit or something? I make my way over to him and slide onto the lounge chair next to him. It’s starting to get hot out and I know my sweat is going to turn foul pretty soon. A shower is definitely the next thing on my to-do list. “Want to repeat that?”

  “Stacy and her friends were talking about going to the karaoke bar, Pomelo, I figured we could hit it up for a bit and convince them to go elsewhere.”

  That’s the last thing I want to do and that’s precisely why I should do it. It isn’t healthy for me to continue pining away for a girl that I can’t have. So, I do the right thing and nod my head while adding on, “Sure. Sounds good to me.”

  “Fucking finally. Stacy has been holding out on me because I keep telling her I have a friend for her friend and well my buddy is never in sight. Maybe now we can pair off and make shit happen.”

  “Yeah.” Marek doesn’t even notice my lack of enthusiasm as I say the word, but I don’t say anything either. I’m nineteen years old, I should be excited about the potential for legal pussy, but the only thing it does is make me feel sick to my stomach. And my screwed-up brain is acting like I’m cheating. But you’d have to be in a relationship for that to happen and there’s no way Marek would ever give me his blessing to be with his sister. Maybe a random fuck will get her out of my mind. That’s it. I haven’t gotten laid in a while and that’s all I need. I’m confusing myself into thinking I have feelings for Giselle when really my little guy downstairs is getting excited over the potential female attention.

  Marek flips his sunglasses back down and asks, “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you. What’s the deal with the hat?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never seen you wear that hat before this summer, and you’ve been wearing it almost every day. Is it new?”

  Almost? I haven’t taken it off my head since Giselle handed it to me during our shopping trip. Except for right now, I wasn’t going to go for a run wearing the thing. At first, I just put it on because when a pretty girl asks you to try something on when you’re shopping, you do it. But when I put the fedora on, it finally felt like I was wearing something that was truly me. Shrugging I fake my indifference, “No deal, I just thought it was kind of cool.”

  He nods and turns his head up to the sun. The sparkling pool in front of us taunts me to dive right in. I don’t know if it’s the talk of my hat or the sun beating down on us but my body temperature has risen and continues to do so. Taking the heat off myself I switch tactics and flip-flop the conversation. I hesitate before continuing our conversation. But I know if I don’t talk to him, then he won’t talk to anybody. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  I feel like such a girl with this conversation, but back at school, we used to talk a lot more than we have this summer. I honestly don’t even know what’s going on with him half the time. “This thing between you and Stacy...is it serious?”

  “Why would you even think that?” Marek asks as he sits up a little straighter and turns his focus back to me.

  “I don’t know because ever since we got here, you’ve been spending all of your time with her.”

  He starts laughing although I’m not sure that I said anything funny. “What are you jealous or something?”

  So that was the reason for the laughter. I shake my head and say, “It’s not like that. I don’t really get it, dude. If you like her, that’s great but can I be honest with you?”

  “Is that not what you’re already doing?”

  Fair enough. “True. I don’t understand how you don’t want to cut your arm or hell even your head off every time you’re with her.”

  “I’m not following.”

  Why did I even start this line of questioning? I tug on the sweat-soaked ends of my hair and internally groan. “This is going to make me sound like a dick, but oh well. She and her friends don’t seem to have a whole lot going on upstairs. Every time we hang out with them, I feel like I’m dropping IQ points left and right. I just don’t know how you can stand it.”

  “It’s just fun and no big deal. It’s not like I’m going to marry the girl or anything. We’re just hanging out. Everything with her is easy.”

  “As opposed to…”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs and there’s a long pause until finally, he says, “Ever since my sister told me that stuff about Cassie, it’s kind of screwed with my brain. I can’t wrap my head around it. I’ve known her my whole life. She was a friend, the girl next door. Seeing her as anything else has never even crossed my mind.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I can’t stop thinking about it. All these what-ifs keep filling my mind and when I’m with Stacy I don’t even think about it.”

  “You already know I don’t like the chick, but do you realize how cold that sounds? Put yourself in her shoes for a minute. If you liked someone, like really liked them and you thought it had the potential for a future, how would you feel if the other person had zero intentions for that?”

  “I get what you’re saying.” Marek’s head falls into his hands and he massages his temples. “When did we get to the point in our lives when we have to think about shit like that. Or have conversations about the future or potential future. That there’s a scary likelihood that women
could start thinking about marriage and shit like that? Is this the grown-up life we spent our entire childhood wanting?”

  I’m not in the same place as he is, and I definitely don’t plan on finding myself in those kinds of situations. There’s a reason why I don’t date and that’s because women, in general, are more work than they’re worth. The only person I have the brain power to focus on is me and me alone. Rather than going on another rant I simply say, “I don’t know man, but if it is…I don’t think I want to have any part of that.”

  “Amen to that.”

  I lean to get up feeling like this conversation is over. Plus, I’m really craving a shower right about now. Sitting in my own sweat for this long is starting to make my skin crawl.

  “What about you?”

  I pause as I lean up and ask, “What about me?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a woman before. Wait…are you?”

  He has got to be kidding me. “You think I’m gay? Just because I don’t hook up with women constantly or have a girlfriend?”

  “Hey, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just curious.”

  “I’m not gay, trust me. I’m just focused on my career and school right now. I don’t have time for girls or distractions. Besides, I’m not attracted to anybody, so it doesn’t even matter. The lie tastes like ash on my tongue—bitter and harsh all at the same time. The word liar repeats in my head like a mantra that I can’t run away from.

  “Man, I think you’ve been spending way too much time with my sister.”

  My palms saturate with sweat as my heart rate quickens. My voice croaks slightly when I ask, “Why would you say that?”

  “Because you’re starting to talk like a girl.”

  I laugh it off but part of me wonders if he actually thinks there is something going on between us. It’s definitely better that I agreed to hang out with him tonight. I get up from the chair and as I expected I stick to the vinyl in the most disgusting way possible.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To shower.”

  Marek chuckles behind me and adds, “Good because you stink. None of the girls would want to be around you.”

  Now who says that would be such a bad thing?

  Chapter Eleven

  Giselle

  I tug down at the bottom of my skin-tight dress so that I don’t flash my lady bits to everyone waiting outside of the club while climbing out of the taxi. I know it’s stupid, but I overheard my brother talking with Anders about coming here tonight and I wanted to have some fun too. I’m grateful no one is really paying attention to me, but you never know. The fabric of my dress squeaks as I attempt to maneuver myself and it rides up my thighs. In the small boutique I went to earlier today I looked like Posh Spice in the full-length mirror. The stark black liquid leather almost glowed against my tanned skin, but now I just feel cheap. I don’t know how anyone wears this crap on a regular basis, but it is what it is. They don’t call it club wear for no reason.

  I was this close to leaving my fake ID at home instead of bringing it with me. Usually, when we come here for the summer I don’t really get out much because there isn’t much to do for anyone under the age of twenty-one. But my friends and I got IDs made this year so we could go dancing at a club in town and I figured I’d try it out and see if it actually worked here too. My parents would kill me if they knew about it, but they weren’t really around this last year. When the bouncer hands the card back to me, I half expect him to tell me to turn around and go home or at the least call the cops on me. But when he stamps the top of my hand and waves me in I have to fight my smile from overtaking my face. Glancing down I have to laugh at the stamp all it says is the word, “legal,” so I’m assuming that means I don’t have to pull the card out of my wallet again, I can just flash my fist and get a drink or two from the bar.

  Rather than risk the potential of getting caught, I head straight to the bar and at least get one drink in me. Might as well use that power while I have it. I train myself looking confident, or at least what I think is confident, and pretend like I always walk into bars and order drinks. Like I belong here. I raise my hand in an attempt to wave down the very sexy bartender and he catches my gaze with a nod and wink. Well so far so good. He finishes pouring the drink he’s in the middle of and quickly makes his way down the bar toward me.

  “What are you having, gorgeous?”

  Fuck. I smile up at him and realize I have no idea what to order. I don’t ever drink back at home, I just go to the club to dance. Alcohol isn’t really my thing, but I figured why not and now I’m looking like an idiot. With the few episodes of Beverly Hills: 90210 fresh in my mind, I order the only drink I remember from the show. I offer him a smile and slightly close my eyes, looking at him through my lashes in that sexy mysterious way. I bring my fist up to show him my stamp and add, “I’ll have a banana daiquiri.”

  He looks me up and down with a confused expression. He shrugs his shoulders and nods his head just as he starts gathering the ingredients for my drink. Was that an amateur drink choice? I don’t even know why I picked it, I don’t even like bananas fake flavored or otherwise. Shit, I should have gone with a Cosmopolitan…I think that’s the drink they’re always having on Sex and the City. Too bad I didn’t think of that thirty second ago. I only hope whatever he brings me is something I can stomach. Dammit, I’ll look like an idiot if I change my drink order, I probably should have had a better plan and thought about this ahead of time. Then again, I didn’t think I would actually get in, let alone be able to order a drink.

  The bartender slides the ridiculous yellow drink across the bar to me and I fish a twenty-dollar bill out of my small clutch. I offer him a confident smile and hand it over adding, “Keep the change.” I wasn’t paying attention to how much the drink cost but judging by the way his eyes light up I’m pretty sure I way over-tipped him. With a shrug, I take a light pull on my straw and the fruity concoction slowly makes its way into my mouth. It’s not bad, but definitely not something I plan on drinking again anytime soon.

  As I take a few steps away from the bar and scan the room for a table to put my drink down, I spy a stage and girl belting out a Christina song while the lyrics are being fed to her through a large TV screen. She doesn’t sound half bad, but she can’t hit the high notes like the blonde bombshell. I make my way to that corner and force my way through the crowd. There’s a small table next to the stage with an unattended binder. There isn’t a single person nearby and I snatch it up before anyone else can.

  It might be juvenile of me, but I’ve always loved singing karaoke. The chance to get lost in a song and just forget the world around me. Even if it’s only for three to four minutes, nothing else matters. I take a small sip of my cocktail shuddering slightly under the intensity of the overly sweet drink and scroll through the songs that are available. My go to is normally something fun and old school like Cyndi Lauper, but tonight I’m feeling like mixing it up. I’m not sure what, but I’ll know it when I see it.

  This bar isn’t all that big so I’m kind of surprised I haven’t seen my brother and Anders yet. Maybe they decided not to come tonight. Although Marek kept going on and on about hooking up with some girl tonight, so they should be here. I take another look around the bar, but I still don’t spot them anywhere. Oh well, maybe they decided not to come here after all.

  I’m briefly pulled from the binder as a loud screeching comes from the corner where a group of girls is laughing like hyenas. I can’t really see their faces, but you know it has to be bad when the guy up on stage is belting out a popular song from The All-American Rejects. Do guys actually find that attractive? All that cackling? If anything, it’s just annoying. I take a second glance and while they’re pretty far away, I do spot a very familiar fedora with sandy blond hair underneath. So that’s the kind of girls he goes for? No wonder I’m not good enough.

  Whatever.

  I continue flipping through the sticky binder
albeit a little more on the angry side now, I don’t even want to think about what kind of substances have touched the sheet protectors. Just as the guy up on the stage brings “Swing, Swing” to a close, I stumble upon the perfect song. It might be childish but I don’t even care at this point. Plus, whatever is in my daiquiri is doing its job a little too well. I’m feeling pretty good and I take another sip bringing it down to the halfway point. I don’t usually drink this much or at all for that matter but life is short and I might as well live it up while I can.

  There is no line for the stage and I program my song in and then get up onto the stage. Nobody is really paying attention to me right now and that’s perfectly fine with me. I take another gulp from my daiquiri and place it on the floor next to me.

  The familiar music starts up of one of my all-time favorite songs and I close my eyes and get lost in the music. I have no idea if he’s paying attention to me, but I sing this song as if he’s looking right at me and knows I’m singing right to him. I want him to kiss me and I want him to know that I do. It almost feels cliché to sing the popular song, but I don’t even care. I feel like Rachel Leigh Cook at the end of She’s All That when she’s talking to Freddie Prinze, Jr. in her backyard. If Laney Boggs got the guy in the end, why can’t I? I know it’s probably a little ridiculous that I’m singing this song to him in hopes for a kiss, but I’ve spent this long of the summer trying to get one and desperate times call for desperate measures.