How to Make Out

by Brianna Shrum

  I want to be able to talk to her about the cute guy who likes me and who kissed me and asked me out and cooked for me. And I want to tell her about April, and how I think it’s ridiculous that we’re still fighting somehow over nothing. And I want to talk about Drew and have her tell me that it’ll be fine and that he’s being unfair and stupid and that he’ll come back around eventually. I’d like her to be ticked because she can see my hickey through my makeup. But she’s not.

  Suddenly, the room feels tiny and suffocating, and I need to be outside. So I clamber out onto my windowsill and grab the roofline, hoisting myself up. I’m wearing a tank top and miniscule boxers, and it’s freezing, and the shingles are rough against my legs, but I like it that way. I look around quickly, and I don’t see anyone, so I let myself think about her. Let it all overwhelm me. And then, the flood.

  I’m crying so hard I can’t even see through the tears, can barely breathe. There’s a horrible pain in my chest, a hollow. It almost hurts to cry this hard. I’m so wrapped up in everything, so solitary in this moment, that I can’t even hear when he crosses his yard to mine.

  “Renley?” he calls, and I do hear that.

  I stop crying for a second and manage, “What?”

  He hops up onto my windowsill. “Can I come up?”

  I scowl and whip my head around to face him. “Are you kidding me?”

  But I don’t say no, and we both know it. So he climbs up next to me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m doing that post-weeping gasping thing when I answer, “No.”

  “Is this because of me? Because I’m really sorry about the ‘whoring yourself out for your readers’ thing. That was shitty. And I didn’t mean that we’re done forever. I just meant—”

  “Not everything I feel is always because of you, Drew,” I spit. He doesn’t say anything. I let myself breathe for a second, and eventually sigh “No.”

  He inches closer to me. “Then what is it?”

  I make myself forget that just hours ago he was banishing me from his life, and I pretend that everything is normal. Otherwise, I have no one to talk to, and I can’t deal with that right now. “It’s stupid.”

  “Try me.”

  “I just …” When I start to form the words, I can feel a bubble in the back of my throat, strangling me. “I just miss my mom.” And I lose it again.

  He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me in tight to his chest. “You’re killing me, R,” he whispers.

  “You shouldn’t be up here with me. We’re taking a break.” My words are muffled in his jacket.

  “Not tonight. I’m not leaving you like this.”

  “You have to.”

  “No I don’t. You’re coming over.”

  I raise up my head a fraction. “I can’t. Not after—”

  “Forget what I said. We’ll remember that tomorrow.”

  “And I can’t spend the night. I have a boyfriend.”

  “Screw your boyfriend. Think about him tomorrow too. Tonight, you need to come with me. I don’t care what I said. I’m not leaving you, not like this. And you’d better come to my house, because the alternative is for us to stay out on this roof all night, and I’m not giving you my jacket. Why don’t you ever remember to wear a jacket?”

  I smile a little despite myself and let him pull me up. Then we slide off the roof to the windowsill to the ground. I walk with him to his room.

  “What were you doing outside anyway?” I ask, tears gone for a moment.

  “Mom’s usual.”

  I nod and climb in his window after him. We can both hear his mom hooking up with someone in the background.

  He strips off his jacket and his shirt and jeans, down to his boxers. It feels strange this time, but I don’t say anything about it.

  “Come on,” he says, nodding toward the bed.

  I slip in beside him and lay my head on his chest, craving the familiar comfort of his arm, his heartbeat beneath my ear.

  “It’s never stupid to miss her,” he says, his voice vibrating in my ear.

  I can feel a cry rising up in my throat.

  “I miss my dad every day. He left when I was seven. Seven. You remember?” I nod into his chest. Of course I remember. “I still think about him. I wonder if he’s off in another country, doing spy work like my mom used to tell me. Or if he’s getting drunk somewhere where everybody knows him. If he’s fishing with some other kid in some other family he picked. What a pussy, right? Ten years, and I’m still not over it.” His voice cracks.

  I lie still there for a while, then say softly, “My mom left five years ago. I was eleven.”

  “Yeah,” he says.

  That was when I kissed Drew for the first time. Out by the creek, before I told him what had happened.

  I sniff. “I thought we had a good thing, you know? Regular mom-daughter stuff. Hair and dress-up and ballet recitals and stupid weepy chick flicks. But when my dad cheated, she just left. All of us. She left me. How do you leave your kid over a guy? She doesn’t even call me, Drew. I used to call all the time, but now even if I do, she’s free for five minutes and then she leaves, or usually, she doesn’t even answer. She never texts. She didn’t send me a card for my birthday. My sixteenth birthday. Nothing. She might as well be freaking dead.” I pause. Then, “What am I supposed to do without my mom?”

  He hugs me so close to his chest, I can hardly breathe. But it feels safe. It feels like the only thing keeping me from coming apart at the seams. We lie there like that for so long, I know he must be sleeping. But then I hear him say, “It wasn’t you, R.”

  I don’t say anything; I just look up at him.

  “Your mom left because of your mom. Not because of you.”

  “How do you know?” I ask weakly.

  “Because anyone who has you all to themselves and leaves is insane.”

  I relax into him. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

  He breathes deeply in and out. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

  “I’m sorry you had to hear me cry and ruin all your plans to stay away from me.”

  “Tomorrow,” he says. “Tomorrow, I’ll get up before you do, and I’ll leave. And you can go back home and not text me for a while. And you’ll be okay and I’ll be okay. And you can go back to having an amazing boyfriend and smiling and being happy-go-lucky Renley. But none of that matters today. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I can feel the sad smile in his voice when he says, “This is so messed up.”

  And I smile into his chest in that same broken way. And fall asleep.

  20. How to Get Someone Else a Black Eye

  I wake up early, but he’s gone, like he said he’d be. It doesn’t hurt this morning—I think because I knew it was coming. And maybe because I know he doesn’t hate me, not really. So when I swing my legs over the side of his bed, I feel okay. And when I show up at the bus stop for the first time in I don’t know how long, it sucks, but I’m not dead. I’m not even really numb. I’m just … okay.

  I head to the back of the bus and slink into the seat, sliding low and shoving my headphones in my ears. Freshmen. So many tiny freshmen everywhere doing freshmen things. I stare out the window, vision cut off by the line of the window. And no matter how loud I turn my iPod, everyone else on the bus manages to overwhelm the music. That’s it. I am not doing this tomorrow.

  Hey

  Hey :) Seth texts.

  So, you would LOVE to give me a ride to school tomorrow right?

  I must live even closer to the school than I remember, because before Seth can even text me back, the behemoth of a vehicle groans to a slow stop.

  I don’t get up for a couple minutes. No sense in doing that; the horde of kids in front of me will take a millennium to vacate the bus. My phone buzzes.

  Banished to the bus this morning?

  Ugh.

  I’ll meet you there

  When the majority of the students have finally flooded out into the courtya
rd, I stand and stick my phone in my pocket, then burst forth from the mobile prison. Ah, freedom and fresh air absent of body odor.

  I descend the little half-steps down onto the sidewalk and find Seth there, smiling at me. He holds his hand out and I take it, intertwining his fingers with mine. He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

  “So, you need a ride tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow. Possibly the day after. The time period is indeterminate.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. What’s the use of having a boyfriend who can drive if you can’t take advantage of his license?”

  He knocks his fist to his heart, faking shock and horror. “You would use me in such a way? I’m appalled.”

  I shrug. “I’m just terrible and awful. What can I say?”

  He moves his fingers just a little over mine, giving me a rush. “So I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, and indefinitely ever after. Out of curiosity, what caused this sudden change in transportation plans?”

  “Oh, my ride just kind of bailed on me.”

  “Who?” His tone is nonchalant; he’s not asking in a jealous way, I know. But it makes me uncomfortable to answer.

  “Uh, Drew.”

  He stops short and turns to face me. “Drew? Drew Calloway has been your ride to school this whole time?” he says, voice sharp.

  “Yes. I did say I was sleeping with Drew Calloway this whole time. Oh no, wait. Yeah, still just my ride to school.”

  He purses his lips. “I’m sorry. It’s fine. I just didn’t know you were getting rides with him every day.”

  Something about the way he says him makes me bristle. “You knew we were friends.”

  “Yeah. I did. I’m sorry; it’s not a big thing. I hear that name, I automatically assume any girl associated with him is someone he’s seeing naked. Reflex.”

  My grip on his hand relaxes a little, and we make our way closer to the school. I stop with him and lean up against the cold brick.

  “I don’t know what I’m getting jealous about anyway.” He brings my hand up and fiddles with my fingers. “Drew Calloway doesn’t get to do this.”

  “True,” I say, blood flowing up to my cheeks.

  “And he doesn’t get to do this.” He kisses me right below my ear. I shiver. Then he moves over to my mouth and kisses me slowly, parting my lips and running his fingers over my jaw. “And Drew has never kissed you.” He smiles and I flush, partly from the heat of the kiss, partly because that is not strictly true.

  When I don’t say anything, he twitches his head a fraction of an inch. “Drew has never kissed you, I said.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  He backs up. “Has he?”

  I roll my eyes. “What do you care?”

  “Because you told me you guys were friends.”

  “We are.”

  “Is that a service you provide all your friends?”

  I narrow my eyes and slide out and away from the brick.

  “Was it just like, once?”

  “No.” I have my back turned to him when I answer, power-walking to the front door.

  “When?”

  “Like three weeks ago, Seth. You and I weren’t dating, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “Three weeks?” His voice goes all high and weird. “And not just once. And you’ve been getting rides to school from him every day, even since we’ve been dating, and you haven’t even told me?”

  I stop short and turn around, arms folded tight across my chest, high ponytail whipping across my face. “It doesn’t matter. There was nothing to tell. And seriously, possessive is not an attractive look on you.”

  “I wouldn’t be being possessive if your ‘best friend’ whom you occasionally kiss, apparently, wasn’t the biggest man whore in school.”

  I never thought I’d say I wanted to slap Seth Levine across his pretty face. But I want to slap Seth Levine across his pretty face.

  I back away a couple steps, hands up, shaking my head. “I do not even know what to say to that. Forget the ride to school tomorrow.”

  Then I stomp off, brand-new high heels clacking on the pavement.

  “Wait,” he says, but I’m already in the hallway, and within minutes, I’m slamming my butt down on my chair in math class and huffing a shrill, angry-cheerleader huff.

  “Whoa. You look like someone just, I don’t know, punted your dog.”

  “What?” I say, turning to April. I’m basically floored that she’s talking to me at all. That dry sarcasm is still an undercurrent in her voice, but the acid isn’t quite so close to the surface.

  “I mean, you don’t look like they killed your dog, per se. Just insulted it.”

  “Uh …”

  “What?” she asks. “Trouble in paradise?”

  She sighs, gives me a once-over, and finally rolls her eyes and moves over a couple desks, sitting next to me.

  “It’s Seth. And Drew. And … we have two minutes till class starts and I have many words to say.”

  She pauses and fiddles with her lip ring. I wonder if she sees the hope in my eyes. I bet I look like a total plastic, face bright and eager. Overeager, like if we don’t fix this thing, I’ll deflate and die.

  “Free after school?” she says, not quite smiling, but not scowling either.

  I’m not sure how much my face reflects it, but I’m definitely feeling the April-shaped chasm in my chest. Even if I weren’t free after school today, well, I would be.

  “Totally.”

  Her face brightens a little the same time mine does, and then the bell rings. And the ever-scintillating lecture begins.

  After class, Seth is waiting for me at the door, avoiding my eyes. April shoots me a knowing look and darts off, black and blue hair bouncing on her shoulders. It feels sudden, but awesome, April not totally hating me. But it feels not-awesome to have Seth looking like that.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asks, and his eyes are big and round and sad.

  “Sure. I have a free period.”

  He nods. “I have gym. Who cares about gym?”

  He hesitates, then slides his fingers down the inside of my arm to take my hand, and I let him, trying to ignore the chills I get from the light touch.

  We walk together like that to his car and I get in.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, stomach aflutter, cold and hollow.

  “Park?”

  “Okay.” There’s a little park just down the road from here. It’s always empty on weekdays, except for the ducks, and even they aren’t there during the winter. At night, kids go there sometimes to make out (or finalize illicit drug deals, depending).

  The trip is pretty quiet, but he never takes his hand off mine, which keeps my heart rate normal. If I thought I’d screwed things up with this guy after a week and a half, I’d be a mess right now.

  He parks and we head down the little cement walking path to the slushy pond and sit.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “Okay.”

  “I just know you and Drew have always been just this side of an item, and I’d hate to be caught in the middle of something. Especially when I don’t know about it.”

  “And you’re getting all this because I kissed him once? Well. More than once.”

  “Three weeks ago.”

  “Yeah, I see what you’re saying.” I turn toward him. “Look,” I say, “he’s my best friend. And he’s been in love with me for, like, ever. And I slipped and we made out and that’s it. And then you and I started dating and I forgot all about it. End of story.”

  Seth is quiet for a while. “So there’s nothing going on then?”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Is he still in love with you?”

  I sigh. “Yes.”

  “You sure?”

  “We talked about it, like, two days ago.”

  He turns his head sharply and raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  His face da
rkens considerably and he tosses a rock into the lake.

  I sigh dramatically. “Really, Seth. We have an hour plus lunch. Do you think I really wanted to come here and talk about some other guy and be angsty for my whole free period?”

  He looks over at me and grins. “You’re right. It would be a real waste of ninety minutes.”

  I’m glad we’re alone, because even if he’s kind of stupid, I really just want to kiss him for the next, well, however long we feel like. And so I do.

  After cooking lets out, Seth and I part ways, and I text April, finalizing our plans for later. I wander around the halls for a little while, trying to decide how to get home. It’s cold and I’ve already missed the bus. Maybe I could find Seth and hitch a ride.

  I turn aimlessly for a while until I hear voices murmuring. One of them sounds like Seth’s. The other one, for sure, is Drew’s. I peek around the corner into a hallway. A couple kids are standing around, but beyond that it’s mostly empty. From where I’m standing, I can hear Seth saying, “Listen, I’m not trying to start anything.”

  “Okay,” Drew says coolly.

  “I’m just asking you, man to man, if you could cool it with Renley. She’s my girlfriend, okay?”

  Drew leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets. “Cool what with Renley?”

  Seth gives him a look. “I know you care about her. I just need you to be cool. Can you do that?”

  “What, she told you about last night?”

  Oh no. Not last night. I’m going to die. I’m actually going to die. Should I stop it? No, then they’ll know I’ve been eavesdropping. And even if they don’t, I’m going to have to explain something to Seth about last night now.

  Seth cocks his head. “Last night?”

  Drew gets up from the wall and calmly says, “Last night was nothing. She needed a friend. I’m convenient. So I let her stay with me.”

  “What?” Seth says, his voice dangerously quiet.

  “Like I said, nothing happened. I’m not gonna sleep with another guy’s girlfriend.”

  “She stayed all night with you? Did she sleep in your bed?”

  Drew rolls his eyes. “Yes. But I’m telling you, nothing—”

  Seth steps forward and pushes him. This is not good. Stop, Seth. I’m dating the guy, so I should honestly be idealizing his capability to beat every other male into a pulp, but even I know he doesn’t stand a chance against Drew.