Never Been Kissed

by M. C. Cerny

I cough over my embarrassment. “You mean bubbly?”

  “No, but I can see you’re not on board with this idea.”

  “Well, let’s not be hasty. I don’t even know what it takes to sanitize a bubble costume. You’d be breathing your own air for some time and rolling it down city streets.”

  “I could blow it up outside your building with a portable air pump.” He makes this sound like it’s no big deal at all.

  “You have one of those?” He looks at me like I’m a little crazy and I huff. “Of course you do. You have everything.”

  “Not everything.” He grunts looking as frustrated as I feel running his large hands over his head mussing up his slightly longer and way more disheveled pandemic hair.

  “I don’t know.” I say unsure of what I mean. This. Him. Us. I really don’t know.

  Van goes quiet and leans in closer to the screen like he’s going to tell me a story. “You’d be worth it though.”

  “Let’s stick to the plan. This isn’t going to last forever.” I cross my fingers behind my back. Please don’t let this last forever.

  I come into the kitchen to see what my sister is doing at eight in the morning. I’m pretty sure she’s never been up this early, not even to take Hannah to school which is usually my job or Ma’s. She’s whisking something in a bowl and sweating like it’s July, but it’s not. It’s April and the apartment is only a balmy 64 degrees because Ma hates paying the electric bill when sweaters and sweatpants suit her just fine. Once we get to May and June it’s a fight to get her to turn the AC on and its braless house coats and flip flops. I love my family, but I’ll take them clothed over half naked.

  “Lavender, what are you doing?”

  “I saw this recipe for coffee and figured I’d give it a try. Can you whisk this for me?” She hands me the bowl and I push it back at her.

  “No thanks.” I have a date with photoshop for a work project and then a call with Van.

  “Oh come on, my hand is killing me and we don’t have one of those fancy hand blenders.” I hate when my sister whines because she’s come up with some hairbrained idea that never turns out well for anyone except her. I’m also leery to touch the bowl because it smells like coffee with too much sweetener. I like my coffee with coconut milk and no sugar not this cavity causing mess she’s got slopped in a bowl.

  I push the bowl away from me a second time. “Since I’m not drinking it, no, I’m not going whisk that. But it’s good to see you’re using muscles you haven’t used since your college frat party days.” I make an obscene hand gesture which she doesn’t appreciate.

  “Real funny. I love how my little sister likes to lord that over me.”

  “I don’t slut shame, I tell it like it is.” I grin but she hands me the bowl and I take it before it drops and then we have Ma to deal with and mess on the floor with limited paper towels to clean it up. It’s really an act of self-preservation.

  “I was dating every single one of those boys.” Lavender makes a twirling motion for me to whisk faster and I do it because it means I’ll get out of here sooner.

  “If that’s what we’re calling it, sure.” I tease right back and dodge her attempt to slap my thigh with the dish towel. My sister fights dirty.

  It’s been a point of contention that Lavender didn’t go to college, though she somehow convinced our parents to pony up the money for her cosmetology school and I’m the one who had to work two jobs to afford my education on my own. I never figured out why that was and I guess it doesn’t matter now. She has a license she uses only when she needs money and I work my ass off to get by, but it’s fine. I know this isn’t forever despite the month of March feeling like three hundred days long with no end in sight and we’re barely into April.

  “Hey, I’m not the one hooking up with her baby daddy who dropped her for another girl and then enticed you back with a chicken pot pie. Personally, I think you’re selling yourself short.”

  We could banter all day like this, but I had a video conference meeting to attend and a digital date with Van later.

  “Does your guy know you’ve never seen a naked dick before.”

  “Hello, question meet Google.” I waved dramatically at my sister with the whisk licking the tip of it. Huh. Whipped coffee was pretty good even if it was too sweet for me.

  Lavender snorts and grabs the bowl and whisk to resume her loud whisking of metal on glass.

  “He knows I’m less than experienced, but thanks for reminding me of my celibate status. Nothing like never getting off in this crowded apartment to lighten the mood.”

  Lavender made her own inappropriate gesture by sticking her tongue in her cheek before chuckling at me. “He should know what he’s in for.”

  “Yeah, we’re not really into the whole student-teacher kink, but I’ll let you know if I need to borrow that pleated skirt you wore to the Delta House before this stuff started.”

  “You’ll thank me later!” She resumes whisking weak peaks of coffee. I grab a muffin since Ma took up pandemic baking and leave to lock myself back in my bedroom closet for my meeting.

  I singsong back. “Highly unlikely!”

  My sister is a pest on a good day and how we managed to co-habitate this long remains a mystery. She enjoys rubbing her dating escapades in my face, but the truth was closer to the fact we handled the grief of losing our dad differently. I wanted a relationship like the one our parents had before everything went to shit. I built up a wall around my heart rejecting any guy who was interested by keeping myself insanely busy. Lavender needed the attention and equated sex to love. She couldn’t get enough of guys in her boy crazy mind and because she wasn’t the most responsible she got herself knocked up and while Hannah was a joy and a blessing, I do think she’s has regrets about the way it happened before she was ready to be a mother. We all had our issues to bear, but at least we had each other.

  10

  Van

  “How is it possible, you have never seen a single Sharknado movie?” I angle the screen on my computer so Laurel gets my full attention. She’s wearing a cute graphic t-shirt that looks like it’s been lovingly washed several dozen times and must be super soft against her skin. I can see a peek of her bare stomach, peachy skin that looks kissable and taunts me. This girl is my ultimate distraction from the panicked office calls, Grant, and my parents. I don’t suggest skirting the stay-at-home rule to see her because I know she won’t go for it. It seems I’m an equal temptation for her. These dates, as odd as they are have been like old school courting. I’m not sure if I like it, or if the anticipation of the real thing is going to wear me down. Only time will tell, and right now…it’s fucking agony.

  Laurel purses her lips and takes a sip from a soda can. I notice the Canada Dry black cherry seltzer and make a note to have some stocked in my fridge, for someday which has me groaning like a big baby.

  She lifts her arms up to secure her hair in a ponytail and her breasts lift. I wonder if she’s wearing a bra and I shout at the internet troll in me to shut up and focus on her face. I’m a guy deep down horny and rude, but I can still be a gentleman. It’s no wonder girls swipe left, right or whatever to get rid of us.

  “I’d like to consider myself lucky to have missed such an epic cinematic failure.” She’s serious and I know if I can’t get her on the shark train I might her lose her, but honestly, I’ve got nothing.

  “It’s sharks and tornadoes.” Way to go, Van. In my mind I’m patting myself on the back and lamenting.

  I hear her mumble, “With terrible CGI.”

  She’s right, but I feel obligated to see this through to the end.

  “What do you have against chainsaws?”

  “For starters, we’re living through a pandemic, I’ll pass.” She smiles tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Yup. Total distraction except I’ve declared movie war.

  “Not a fan of The Walking Dead either?” I quip watching for the slightest tick in her cheek.

  “Donovan.” Her half gru
mble moan shoots a call sign to my dick making me grateful there’s a river, bridge, and borough between us.

  “Oh come on. Give it a try, just for me.” I ramp up my charm, but she huffs dramatically with the grace of a Broadway star rolling her eyes. Her braid of hair teases me by slipping over her shoulder back and forth.

  “Next you’re going to tell me you won’t sit through a Die Hard marathon.” I sit back in my bed, she’s propped on my lap which conveniently hides how much she’s turning me on during this sparring conversation. I watch her eyes light up when I mention one of my favorite movies, so maybe there is hope after all.

  “Are you kidding?” She glares into the screen wide eyed and maybe a little insulted. “Who doesn’t love Bruce Willis.” Her answer is emphatic and I take note heaving a huge sigh of relief. We can add that to our cue of movies for a Netflix watch party. While the movie happens to be my favorite and my brother’s, I don’t even consider inviting him to our date nights. No third wheels because I can’t see or touch her in person and this is as intimate as we can get.

  “Well, we’re twenty minutes in so what you want to do?” I pause the movie on my end so we can figure out where to go from here.

  Laurel does a cute little chew on her bottom lip.

  “I’d suggest make out, but obviously that’s off the table.” Her shoulders shrug and I nearly snort my own drink. I figured she would have suggested a romance movie or chatting, but damn she has me twisted. So much for her shy demeanor, these little spurts of sassy Laurel turn me on. I clench my fist imagining the moment I’ll finally get my hands on her.

  Clearing my throat, I shift in my spot saying, “Yeah, off the table.”

  Laurel seems to consider something before saying, “We might as well finish the movie, how many of them are there?” Oh this sweet girl has no idea the torture I could lay out for her over the next week.

  I don’t take her offer seriously, but add, “Six.”

  “Huh.” She snuggles into her pillows. She’s pretending to not hear me and that’s okay. I can think of things we can do virtually.

  “So?” I don’t want our date to end and I find myself oddly anxious to lose this time with her. Me. The guy who has no issues asking a woman I don’t know in a bar on a date and all I want is this girl to watch a terrible movie with me.

  “The movie isn’t going to watch itself and I’m not convinced Shepard survives.”

  “Oh sweetheart, he not only survives, he triumphs.” I hit the resume button. We make our comments during the ridiculous fight scenes and marvel how Shepard survives the impossible. Laurel tells me it gives her hope for the future of mankind. I chuckle because only Laurel would find a way to make Sharknado a metaphor for never giving up.

  I toy with the idea of sending her a gift card for eBooks, but I’m selfish thinking that will take her time away from me. So I dare her to watch the next five movies until she relents. We debate on binging the second one before Laurel yawns and I offer we table it for tomorrow.

  We spend the next few days discussing the most illogical scenarios presented to us. I spend the wee hours of the morning hunting for a t-shirt saying, I survived shark week, and then I mail it to her.

  I learn a lot about Laurel during our movie marathons. She prefers buttered popcorn over candy, but if candy is the only option then it must be Milk duds. We argue over the merits of dark versus light chocolate and I shut her up by saying until I can taste it on her skin I don’t have a preference. It seems any sexual comment is enough to set her off into Shyville and I’m shameless in teasing her stopping short of crossing the line into Creeperville.

  I’m desperate to ask her what prompted her to sign up for the dating app that connected us. I want to hear her version of it and share mine. If this is fate or kismet or some cosmic happenstance, I want her to know that I’m in, I’m all in.

  11

  Laurel

  Marley barks up a storm that’s going to get us kicked out despite the non-eviction notices. Our scruffy little dog is named after my mother’s favorite brand of smokes. The damn dog is lucky if he weighs a pound, but he packs a mean ankle bite if you aren’t careful. Our biggest family secret is that Marley is a fake emotional support animal. When our neighbor down the hall, Mr. Totter complained to our super, Ma forced me to use my graphic design skills to design a convincing certificate instead of taking the tiny beast to actual classes we couldn’t afford anyway. The little snapper was going to be my undoing with his constant barking. I figured he sort of owed me some kind of allegiance or a pass considering my handy artwork saved his scruffy ass.

  “Ugh, I’m coming, you tiny terror.” I crawl out of bed and fumble for joggers and shoes.

  “Laurel!”

  “Coming Ma.” Despite it being the four of us, the place felt like Grand Central station trying to navigate all of us home. My only reprieve was taking Marley out for his walk which was more of a jog between sidewalk trees and garbage cans to pee.

  “Can you?”

  “Got it.” I grab his leash and watch my hands hooking it to his harness. Lavender barely gives me a glance but she’s been pissed at me since our fight because she went on that date. No one has gotten symptoms yet, but the party she went to also got broken up by the police early on. I figure she’ll be mad until this stay-at-home situation relents and that’s on her.

  I slip my phone into my pocket and make my way outside adjusting my mask. I don’t have any spare gloves so I’m careful opening our apartment building door and head outside. With so many less people milling about and commuting to work, the streets are clear. The garbage smell seems more bearable and there’s noticeably less trash except for the addition of gloves someone carelessly dumped missing the can. It’s aggravating, but I take my wins where I can and tug Marley away from trying to smell them.

  It’s a lucky thing that the sun is shining. The past week felt like never ending gloom of grey skies and damp rain. I heard a neighbor joke we were experiencing a London spring and I tried to take heart in that, but it’s hard when you can’t go anywhere and it all seems like a bad dream.

  Turning around the corner of our building, a chirping clicking sound has me straining my neck to glance up. Mickey the squirrel sits on our fire escape beady eyes cast my way and an accusing glare I’m with the dog. “Sorry buddy, I’ll be back in a bit.”

  I don’t know if it’s weird I’m talking to squirrels but it’s better than my sister’s grunts and Hannah’s whining. I’ll have to find something to toss Mickey’s way. Marley keeps pace and we cross the street to a small, empty park.

  My phone buzzes against my thigh and I take a look at the caller ID. It’s Van and like a school girl I smile answering the call.

  “Hello, Mr. Ward.” My voice drops an octave and while it’s not my intent to sound like a sex phone operator, I cringe because that’s exactly what I sound like.

  Van laughs and I know he’s taking this in stride as much as I am.

  “And how is your day, sweetheart?”

  I move my mask off my face since it’s just Marley and me. “Oh the usual escape from Alcatraz. My sister and niece are bickering and Ma turns up the TV in the living room to an unbearable volume forcing me to take Marley for a walk.” I stroll in the park watchful of a couple on the opposite end with their German Shepard. We smile awkwardly and pass by one another observing the rules.

  “That sounds like a lot.”

  I sigh. Being a true introvert, the constant stimulus of people non-stop grates on my nerves.

  “It is, but I’ll manage. Marley keeps me moving.” I point the camera at Marley who is tugging me along. I can hear Van even though he’s not visible.

  “Hey, come back pretty girl. I don’t want to see dog butt.”

  “Oh sorry.” For some reason that has me blushing.

  “Let’s have dinner tonight.”

  “What? No.”

  “Not like that…I meant what we’ve been doing, except I’ll send over take out. We’ll e
at the same thing and have some wine and dessert.”

  “Oh I see. Does this dinner date have a time and a dress code?”

  “Sure. Let’s say six o’clock and dress up in whatever you like that’s not pajamas.”

  “I’m insulted you have a thing against Captain Marvel leggings.”

  “I think jealous is what you’re looking for, you little tease. Be ready for contactless delivery at six.” Van winks and ends the call leaving me speechless.

  What the hell does one wear to a fancy dinner date at home?

  “Come on Marley, we need to snap Lavender out of her snit so she can slut me up for later.” Marley barks at me and turns back to head home.

  “Can you please stop pacing, you’re making me ill.” Six o’clock comes a lot quicker than I anticipate and Lavender is still mad at me despite tossing one of her better dresses my way.

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Let her stew, Lavender. This boy seems charming. How did you meet?”

  “Yeah, how did you meet?” Lavender’s tone is sarcastic like she’s accusing me of breaking the rules when she knows breaking anything gives me hives. I gulp back my nerves. I’m not sure I want to explain a dating app gone awry nor does saying at work fit the bill. Either way, my judgy hypocrite sister will have something snarky to say.

  “We met at…”

  Before I can finish, Hannah swipes my phone and squeals, “On the phone, mommy.”

  “And there it is.” I mumble outed by a seven-year-old who doesn’t know any better.

  “Huh. The phone.” Lavender shakes her head like that’s the worst thing I could have done. I don’t bother explaining and snatch my phone back from Hannah sticking it in my dress pocket.

  Knocking at the door saves me with a full-blown commotion before I can answer it. Marley starts barking like crazy and wiggling between my legs. I push him back into Lavender’s hold and scramble to unlock the door barefoot in my dress.