by Box Set
When the joining of mouths wasn’t trivial,
Wasn’t just something that happened at the end of every date,
With every boy.
* * *
I used to think a kiss meant
Trust,
Loyalty, and
Love.
* * *
I remember a time when kissing was mysterious,
Fantastical almost.
* * *
I imagined what kissing a boy would be like, and
It always happened with someone who looked at me like I owned the stars, or
At least his heart.
* * *
He might whisper something to me to make me laugh, or
He might cup my face in his wanting hands, or
He might say my name with so much need our only option was to taste each other.
* * *
My first kiss had been with Trevor Youngblood, and
He’d done all that.
He’d created the standard that all my future kisses would be compared to, and
Since I’d only kissed Harris after him,
Harris had definitely lacked the heat, and
Passion, and
Love
That Trevor’s kiss had given me.
* * *
After that, I paid more attention to how other people kissed.
How my parents pecked in the morning,
Not a true melding of mouths, but
A quick gesture.
* * *
I witnessed the stoner girl make out with her boyfriend
Across the hall, and
Their movement was wild desperation and groping hands.
* * *
I watched Jacey kiss her Homecoming date goodnight, and
It was chaste but soft,
With the leaning of bodies and the flutter of hands.
Mason Burns is now her boyfriend, and
He still looks at her with constellations in his eyes, and
Like he’s not sure where he’s allowed to touch.
* * *
But no one kisses the way Trevor and I had,
Like we needed the other to breathe,
Like the only thing that mattered was exploring each other,
Like everything could crash,
Burn,
Die around us, and
We’d be okay, because
I was his, and
He belonged to me.
32
“YOU HATE THE BACHELOR,”
Jacey brings me out of my kissing-Trevor memories, and
Reminds me what we’re doing here
Parked outside Happy Valley Tattoo.
* * *
“I know,” I say,
“But that doesn’t mean kissing means something these days.”
I release my seat belt and slide from her car.
* * *
“It does,” she insists,
“And you know it.”
She takes a few steps around the car and meets me at the entrance.
“If you don’t like Harris,
You should stop kissing him.”
* * *
“I like kissing him,” I silence the part about how the kissing makes everything
I don’t want to think about go away.
* * *
I move to pass her, but
Jacey puts her arm on mine.
“But you don’t like him.”
She’s sort of asking, and
Sort of not.
* * *
I shake my head.
“No, I don’t really like him.”
It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and
Jacey’s next words are in my head before she says them.
* * *
“You should break up with him then.
It’s not fair to use him like that.”
* * *
I nod.
“After we ink, okay?
I’ll call him after we ink.”
33
“YOU SURE?”
The tattoo artist appraises my bared foot.
“It’s gonna hurt real bad.”
* * *
“It’s not my first one,” I defend,
Showing him my other foot.
I have a pencil-thin line around my pinky toe, and
Another around my ring toe.
* * *
He shrugs as if to say,
Your call, and
Gets his instruments ready.
* * *
I band my skin to remind myself
Of the mistakes I’ve made that I can’t repeat.
* * *
One: Watching my mother and Mr. Youngblood kiss
In that needful,
Careful,
Bone-melting way that suggested they craved each other.
* * *
I’d never seen my mom kiss Dad like that.
I kept the secret for far too long, and
Whenever I look at my pinky toe and see that line,
I remind myself that truth is the great equalizer.
* * *
Two: Breaking up with Trevor
Without an explanation,
A discussion, or
Anything.
* * *
After I’d done that, I felt like
I needed to plunge my own hand into my chest
Just to make sure my heart was still there,
Beating.
* * *
When I look at my ring toe,
With it’s black line of permanent ink,
I remind myself that sometimes I can’t have everything I want.
34
“WHAT’S THIS ONE FOR?”
Jacey asks, knowing I don’t ink myself for pleasure, and
That if my mother knew,
She’d freak out and have me sent for laser removal.
* * *
I’m careful around her,
Only wearing close-toed shoes or
Toe rings.
* * *
It helps that I only see her twice a month
For about ten minutes, and
That the lines are so thin and so far from her appraising gaze.
* * *
“Cheating,” I say.
“I am not a cheater.”
* * *
What I mean is:
I am not my mother.
* * *
I don’t know if Jacey hears that or not.
It doesn’t matter.
Every time I look at my left pinky toe,
I’ll remember.
* * *
“It wouldn’t be cheating if you broke up with Harris,” Jacey says,
Closing her eyes as the artist brings the needle closer to my foot.
She’s right, and
I close my eyes too.
* * *
I hate needles
Just like Jacey does.
* * *
But I need this reminder.
Every zing of pain tells me
Not to get too close to Trevor,
Not to keep dating Harris,
Not to be like my no-good-adulterous mom.
35
“HE’S HERE,”
Jacey says, her eyes suddenly fearful.
“Do you need me to stay?”
* * *
“It’s Harris,” I say,
“He’s not going to hurt me.”
* * *
Jacey purses her lips and looks over my shoulder to Harris’s car
As if she’s not sure.
We’re still sitting in the tattoo parlor parking lot.
I’ve called Harris to take me to lunch, and
My toes throb as I move my foot
Though I have them bandaged and protected in two socks and a firm sneaker.
* * *
“Call me later,” she says.
“I want to know how it goes.”
* * *
&nb
sp; I agree and switch from her dirty excuse for a car
To Harris’s immaculate vehicle without limping.
Harris doesn’t know about the tattoos, and
I don’t want to tell him.
* * *
“Hey,” he says, leaning over the center console for a kiss.
* * *
“Hey,” I respond, pretending not to see him as I reach for my seatbelt.
* * *
“Where to?” he asks,
Recovering quickly from my rejection and
Throwing the car in reverse.
* * *
I think of my right pinky toe,
The one banded for truth.
* * *
“Harris,” I start, my voice catching on his name.
“I don’t think we should see each other any more.”
36
“WHY?”
Of course Harris wants to know, and
He deserves an answer.
I can’t give him the real reason, but
Only a watered-down version of it.
* * *
He’s smart,
Funny,
Kind,
Dedicated.
* * *
He doesn’t make me talk when I don’t want to, and
He knows exactly what to do to make me smile.
He’s polished,
The kind of boy who’s easy to bring home to my dad,
With hair that’s not too long, or
Too greasy, or
Even overstyled.
* * *
His teeth are white, and
His clothes smell like a mountain stream, and
He’s tall, dark, and handsome.
* * *
I am an idiot, I tell myself, but
When I look at Harris,
All I see is that he’s not Trevor.
37
“I LOVE YOU,”
He says, his voice tight with anger.
“I don’t understand what I did wrong.”
* * *
I study my hands in my lap
While Harris pulls over to the side of the road,
Waiting for me to explain.
* * *
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say,
“It’s me. I’m just not into you the way you’re into me, and
It’s not fair.
I mean, it’s not fair to you for me to keep leading you on
When this isn’t going to go anywhere.”
* * *
His breath explodes out of his body, and
He rakes his fingers through his hair
Looking out his window.
“I said it too soon, didn’t I?”
He slams a palm against the steering wheel,
Startling me,
Making me question if I should’ve sent Jacey away.
* * *
“Said what?”
I ask, trying to keep my voice low and timid.
* * *
“You know what.
I’m sorry, Olivia, okay?
I won’t say it again.”
His jaw tightens,
His eyes seem wild.
* * *
I need to calm him down, and
I only have one idea: Talking.
“That’s not it,” I say,
“But it did make it clear to me that you feel way more strongly about us
Than I do.”
I put two fingers on his forearm,
Drawing his attention to my face.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.
And this—” I gesture between us— “Is not fair to you.
I don’t just want a make-out partner.”
* * *
A glint of hope enters his eyes
Just for a moment, but
I see it.
If I had my camera, I would’ve captured it with a high-speed flash and
An eighty millimeter lens.
* * *
“I’d be your make-out partner,” he says,
Real soft,
His eyes dropping to his lap.
* * *
I shake my head. “I can’t.
Honest, Harris, you’re a great guy.
You’re just…”
I don’t know how to finish that sentence.
* * *
“Stop,” Harris says,
Saving me from myself.
“I know you have this honesty pact thing with yourself, but
Just…don’t.”
* * *
The silence in the car becomes charged,
Fueled by the frustration in Harris’s voice, and
The anger in his eyes.
* * *
“Will you take me back to my mom’s?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, but
The tires spin in the gravel,
Like he can’t get rid of me
Fast enough.
38
“WHORE!”
Harris screams from the end of the Youngblood’s driveway,
Causing me to turn back to his car.
* * *
The window is rolled down,
His middle finger is extended, and
He looks unhinged.
* * *
He lingers,
Like he expects me to run forward,
To apologize.
* * *
I stay rooted to the spot,
Unable and unwilling to move.
* * *
Harris finally peels away,
His voice carrying on the wind.
I hear the insults, and
I can’t stop the rush of guilt.
39
“I DID THE RIGHT THING,”
I tell myself for the tenth time
In as many minutes.
* * *
I did not cheat on Harris,
I didn’t lead him on,
I didn’t deserve his name-calling, because,
“I did the right thing.”
40
“DISASTROUS,”
I repeat to Jacey from the safety of my bedroom.
* * *
No one’s here, and I don’t expect them to return for a few more hours,
But I feel safer inside my room, with the
Door locked,
Music loud.
* * *
“What did he do?” she asks, and
I give her the break-up in blow-by-blow fashion,
Torn between relief and sadness,
Much the same way I felt last night when Trevor finally said,
“Well, we should get some sleep.”
* * *
Walking away from Harris’s retreating car and
Venomous words made my steps heavy,
The same as last night.
I’d lingered on the front porch,
Like I’d hesitated outside my bedroom door.
In both cases, I’d entered kissless.
In both cases, it was for the best.
* * *
“Disastrous,” I murmur again,
Thinking of Trevor this time.
41
“HEY.”
Trevor meets me in the student parking lot on Monday morning.
We can hear the jazz band music from down the hall, and
Streams of students flow around me.
* * *
What is he doing?
Standing there with that nervous smile,
Murky eyes,
Too-long hair?
* * *
His feet shuffle;
He clears his throat.
* * *
What is he thinking?
He won’t try to hold my hand in public, will he?
I haven’t told anyone but Jacey about my break-up with Harris, but
That doesn’t mean Trevor doesn’t know.
* * *
“Hey,” I say, and
Make to step past him.
<
br /> * * *
“You can’t go to your locker,” he blurts,
The panic and concern evident in his tone.
* * *
I turn around,
Doing my best to ignore the icy fingers reaching into my stomach,
Eliminating the slow burn that Trevor ignites.
“Why not?”
* * *
“There’s…”
He seems to lose the oxygen he needs to speak.
“Did you break up with Harris?”