Rejected Kiss (Sweet N' Sour Kisses

by Cindy M. Hogan

  It was perfect and really funny, too.

  The heavy, driving beat of the current song slowly morphed into a calmer rhythm, and a loud groan erupted from the crowd of kids as we all realized the DJ was playing a slow song. Wes raised his eyebrows at me, and I smiled and shrugged. He pulled me in a respectful distance, and we began to sway to the sappy song. I looked over and saw Ali turning in slow, awkward circles with Peter and chuckled softly.

  “Why do they always mess with our fun?” I said with mock irritation.

  “I don't know, I don't mind the chance to catch my breath. Plus, now we can show off,” he grinned devilishly and lowered me suddenly into a deep dip, then pulled me up laughing.

  “I'm glad I asked you, Wes. You're a fun guy.”

  “Thanks, I'm glad you did, too.”

  Wes twirled me out of the dance at the end of the song, and I came face to face with Joslyn and Samee.

  “Hi, guys!” I said, grinning happily.

  Joslyn just looked at me, one side of her lip rising. Samee avoided eye contact, pretending as if she didn't hear me, and they brushed past me toward the refreshment table. Apparently, they were still under the impression that talking to me was social suicide, even though most of the school had pretty much moved on.

  My smile faltered a little, but then I squared my shoulders, making the conscious decision not to let it bother me. I didn't need them.

  “What was that about?” Wes asked, concern in his voice.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. Let's go dance.”

  Just as we turned to find our group and re-form our awesome circle, the music stopped and one of the student body officers walked onto the stage to announce the dance royalty.

  Ali came up beside me and jabbed me softly with her elbow.

  “Dang, right?” she said appreciatively, raising her eyebrows and looking pointedly toward the stage.

  I looked up, analyzing the looks of the boy with the microphone, the student body officer over activities. He did look good. It was easy to see that he was buff, and his tan skin along with his dark eyes gave him an Italian look. On top of that, he was well-spoken. I still hadn't heard an “um,” uh,” or “ya know.”

  I stifled a giggle and whispered, “Ali, you are on a date! You're not supposed to be ogling other guys!”

  “Doesn't hurt to look, does it? He is a mega-hottie. Do you know him?”

  I shook my head, but he did look vaguely familiar. Maybe I'd just seen him at pep rallies or something; he'd probably been the emcee before.

  The crowd clapped. They'd just crowned the new queen, Samantha Davis, and Hendrix Lindstrom the king. The hot SBO placed crowns on their heads, then left the stage as the music started for the royalty dance. It bothered me a little that he seemed so familiar and I couldn't place him. I shook my head and turned back to my date. Wes pulled me in for the slow dance, and over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of Luke. His eyes flitted over me, and then he looked away. My insides knotted and heat snaked up my neck.

  Unbidden, the memory of him forcing his tongue into my mouth flashed into my mind. The memory still had the power to flood my body with panic, and I tensed involuntarily.

  “Are you okay?” Wes asked. “Do you need a break?”

  I pulled my eyes away from Luke and looked at Wes. Seeing the concern on his face, I loosened the tension in my arms and smiled.

  “I'm fine,” I reassured him. “Don't worry.” But I was distracted for the rest of the dance. My mind kept going back to that awful kiss, then replaying the perfect kiss I'd shared with Ryker, and finally the awkward one Riley had inflicted on me. It made me feel a little deflated, thinking of these kisses and how they'd ended up being so different from the special kiss I'd always imagined for myself. Even Ryker, whose kiss had been almost movie-perfect, had spoiled it by abandoning me when I most needed a friend. Now I couldn't even remember that kiss without a stab of regret.

  The music picked up, and I was able to shake out of my melancholy. Dancing was the perfect distraction, and Wes was doing a great job of keeping things entertaining. I laughed until my stomach ached, and I left the dance exhausted, but happy.

  “Mom,” I said as I walked into the house after Ali dropped me off. She was half-asleep on the couch, waiting up for me. My dad worked graves as a police officer and was still at work, or I know he would have waited up, too.

  She turned to me. “I'm so glad you're here. I'm so freaking tired.”

  “I'll walk with you to your room.” I helped her stand, and she leaned on me as we walked to her room. “You were right.”

  She looked around like she was frantic to find something. “Where's my journal? I have to write this down.”

  “Very funny. Seriously. I had the best time. It's so nice to know that the kind of dating I want really exists. If you hadn't suggested we ask someone, I'd have never known.”

  “I'm so glad, sweetie.”

  “And the best part was, when I ran into Luke, it was like he didn't even see me. No threats or dirty looks.” I sighed with relief. “I'm no longer on his radar.”

  “That's the best news I've heard yet. You'll have to tell me everything tomorrow. You've got breakfast duty. I think I'm feeling crepes.”

  “All right,” I said, giving her a hug and heading to bed.

  I just hoped the second part of my mom's advice would pan out-the part about being visible so guys would ask us out. Prom was the next dance, and I really wanted to be asked.

  Chapter 2

  The next day, after church, I called Ali to get her take on the evening. There'd been too many people around during the dance and after, so I hadn't been able to ask her about it then. She picked up after two rings.

  “Hello, is this Anthony's pizza? Yes, I'd like to order a large anchovy with no sauce and no cheese.”

  “Ha ha, Ali. You think you're funny, but you forget I've heard all your lame-o jokes before.”

  She laughed. “It never gets old. I'm hilarious. Peter told me so.”

  “Oh, really?” I teased. “Tell me about it.”

  “You know, I had fun. I liked him, even if I didn't like-like him. We had a good time.”

  “Sweet! So-next up, prom!”

  “Hold on a second-I was all right with asking a guy to sweethearts because it was girls' choice. But I am not asking anyone to prom.”

  “Well, who says you have to ask someone? It's the guys' turn to ask us this time.”

  “Right,” she sighed. I could hear the discouragement in her voice. “It's never happened before, why would it happen now?”

  I frowned. I hated hearing her sound so dejected. Ali was cute and fun and one of the coolest people I'd ever known. She'd stood by me when no one else had and had been there for me when I really needed her. It sucked so bad that no guy had ever paid her much attention. Maybe it was because she was a little shy around them-she talked big, but she never really sought out a guy. In fact, she seemed to take every opportunity to hide and avoid social situations. She did live in a Disney fantasyland much of the time. Who needed real life when you could live vicariously through Cinderella, Ariel, and Snow White? I wondered if she'd ever attain her dream of becoming one of the princesses at Disneyland. I grinned, a mixture of absurdity and hope for her settling over me.

  She'd even been that way around Connor-they'd started becoming friends around Halloween, but as soon as he started getting a little more than friendly she'd started avoiding him. We hadn't hung out with him at all, and thinking about it now, I realized it was probably not by his choice. I knew he had to use his lunch hour to catch up on schoolwork since he was in the thick of competition hockey season and had no time at night for anything. On top of that, Ali and I escaped to her car most days instead of joining him in the library. Perhaps those two things along with Ali's avoidance had kept guys from getting to know her and how awesome she was.

  I slapped my hands on my legs. “That's it!”

  “What?” She sounded leery.

  “We a
re going on campaign prom.”

  “Huh?”

  “We're going to go to every school activity-every game, every rally, every stupid club meeting we can find. And now that you've backed away a bit from your internship, you have the time to do it. We are going to be the most social, the most fun, and the most visible. Someone is going to notice how cool we are, and we are going to have dates for this dance.”

  “And if no one asks us?”

  “A pact is a pact, Ali. We said we'd go to every school dance. Prom is no exception. If no one asks us, then we'll have to ask guys ourselves.”

  Ali didn't answer.

  “Ali?”

  “Hello, is this Anthony's pizza?”

  Despite her initial reluctance, I eventually brought Ali around to my point of view. Ok, maybe I dragged her, but still she went along with it. After first checking the sports calendar, then the clubs calendar for all the activities available to us, we charted our plan.

  “We'll see more people, and more people will see us at the basketball and baseball games. We should go to all of those,” Ali said.

  “Yeah, but clubs give a more intimate experience, making it easier for the members to get to know us, love us, and ask us to prom.”

  She stared at me for a few seconds before nodding her head. “I think you're on to something.”

  Pressing my lips into a grin, I turned back to the clubs schedule. We discovered that the honor society was meeting the next day to do a service project. We marked that down. We were both a part of honor society but never went to the activities. We marked the baseball game for Thursday and the basketball game for Friday. We also jotted down a couple other club activities that we could attend if we had time.

  We learned an important lesson at the honor society service project. Smart people were driven and organized. They had all asked girls to the dance weeks ago. We didn't stand a chance.

  “I think we need to target the unorganized but inspired. You know, the artsy types. Drama and all that.” I nudged Ali as we walked out to the car.

  “We can try that. What artsy groups are there?”

  “I'm so glad you asked.” I pulled out the sheet of paper with all our notes on it and said, “The only real artsy group that meets this week is Realm.”

  “Do I even want to know what that is?”

  “We're going to find out. They meet Wednesday.”

  “Yippee!”

  As we walked into the commons a little while after school on Wednesday, we made the snap judgment that the Realm folks weren't quite our cup of tea. I'd dressed like a medieval princess for Halloween, but I'd never sword-, or stick-, fought anyone. It was quite amusing to watch, though. We stuck to the stairs, looking through the handrail. We weren't sure we could date anyone who lived so far in the past.

  The baseball game got rescheduled because of rain, but we didn't let that get us down. We got to the basketball game early and sat in the middle of the student section. We were sitting pretty. This was it. We'd be surrounded by guys dying to find amazing girls to ask.

  As the students and parents filed in, we made room for groups of kids to sit together here and there and before we knew it, we were on the edge of the student section, smashed up against an over-excited dad of one of the players. He yelled so loudly at the officials, I thought I might go deaf by the end of the game. We'd only talked to about three new people, and they were all girls.

  “Well that was a bust.” Ali raised an eyebrow.

  “I wouldn't call it a total bust. We were seen, and my mom said that was the important thing.” I tried not to let myself get sucked into despair.

  Monday, in Psychology, I overheard some guys talking about who they were going to ask.

  “Ah, man,” one said, “if you're thinking about asking her, you better do it the first week of March. She's gonna be snatched up.”

  “No kidding,” he responded. “I plan on it. Maybe we should all just ask March seventh. What do ya say?”

  I felt a little surge of hope in my heart. If most guys were going to start asking as early as the first week of March, maybe Ali and I would get our invitations and we'd be put out of our misery. I didn't want to have to go back for another helping of Realm.

  March seventh came and went, and then another week went by-still no invitation. We stayed involved, and I tried not to let my spirits fall.

  Both Ali and I kept our eyes open for guys we'd like to invite in case no one asked us. Wes and Peter had asked girls already, so they were out, as well as most of the guys from my old group-but not like I'd be talking to them anytime soon. Even Connor had asked someone. I really didn't want to ask anyone at all. I'd asked a guy, and now it was a guy's turn to ask me. Every day we'd add someone new to our lists. There were a lot of great guys to choose from.

  Every time I thought about it, I'd find myself taking short, quick breaths while I paced. I really wanted to go, and I wanted someone to ask me. But, if I had to, I would ask someone. My first thought was of Caleb, but he was totally off my radar these days. He and Josh hadn't hung out with us since the Luke incident, and Josh and Katherine were off at the moment. That boy had some amazing patience. He kept going back to Katherine even though she always left him in the end.

  I had a conversation with myself several times a day about how long I should wait to ask somebody. It was awful. I figured two weeks would be the breaking point. It's not like they had to find a dress and all the accessories. They only needed to rent a tux, easily done in two weeks. That meant that any remaining boys had fourteen days to ask me. Why wouldn't they ask me? I'd gotten involved and showed how fun I was. I just had to get asked.

  It was March 15th, and still neither Ali nor I had been asked to the prom.

  “Campaign prom is not working,” Ali said as we ate lunch in her car that day. I'd suggested going to the commons to be “visible” again, but Ali said she couldn't take it today. “No one has even hinted that they wanted to take either of us. I think I'm throwing in the towel.”

  I gulped. “Come on Ali, we still have plan B.”

  She shook her head. “I don't know if I can ask someone to prom. I mean, it's not a girls' choice dance and… I don't know.” She paused for a minute and then said, “It's like the ultimate fail.”

  “So, what? We just sit at home and feel sorry for ourselves? No. We go for it. We make our own happiness.”

  “I don't need to go to this dance to be happy.” She looked pointedly at me.

  “I know. That's not what I meant, and you know it. Besides, we promised ourselves.” I held my hands out to my sides and huffed.

  “That's true, but I would like one guy, one time, to ask me out. I'm going to graduate in a year, and no one has ever asked me out. And, Brooke, as awful as it is not having these guys fall at your feet like they always have until this year, imagine being me-a dateless junior. Guys are jerks. We shouldn't ask one of them to prom. I'm sick of them.”

  “We're in this together. We are not giving up!”

  She sighed and shook her head. “I'm sorry, Brooke, I just don't think I can do it. It's too demoralizing. At the very least, I want to keep my dignity.”

  It turned out she wouldn't have to worry about her dignity.

  After school that day when I went out to meet her at her car, Ali stood next to the driver's side door, reading something and smiling.

  “What is it?” I asked, hurrying around the car.

  “Brooklyn, you better sit down.”

  The wet, snowy ground stared up at me. “Uh, not going to happen.”

  I moved closer, trying to see the paper she held.

  “I think, my dear Brooklyn, that I am getting asked to prom.” She squealed.

  “Are you serious?” We were both bouncing up and down. “Let me see. What does it say?”

  She held out the paper and we read it together. It appeared to be a simple scavenger hunt.

  Go to Arctic Circle and order my favorite type of shake. It starts with a b and is orange. />
  We bounced a few more times, giggling before hurrying into the car and taking off for Arctic Circle.

  “What shake is orange that starts with a b?”

  We came up with nothing. Our minds drew a complete blank. Nothing was orange that started with a b. Once in Arctic Circle, we discovered the answer right away: a Butterfinger shake. She ordered it, but when she went to pay for it, the boy said it'd already been paid for. A note was attached to it.

  Go back to the commons at school and search around the Lancer for your next clue. And you better eat that delicious shake. I'm eating mine right now, too.

  I fed her the shake, taking a bite for myself here and there on the five-minute drive back to the school. We found the clue quickly.

  Head to K-mart's customer service desk to pick up my favorite album.

  We rushed to the customer service desk, trying not to explode from excitement.

  “Muse?” we said at the same time, looking at the CD.

  “Who loves Muse?” I asked. “And Butterfinger shakes?”

  “No idea.” We laughed as we read the next clue, which led us to a local soup and sandwich shop, Zupas.

  As we entered the restaurant, the bell over the door sending a cheery chime through the place, we noticed a take-out container with a balloon attached waiting on a nearby table. Inside was a brownie, which was awesome, but the real prize was on the outside of the container-the final message.

  Use the first letters of the places I sent you to figure out who I am.

  “Let's see,” I said. “Arctic Circle. A. Commons. C.”

  “And, K-mart. K,” Ali said. “And Zupas. Z.”

  “A-C-K-Z?”

  We both yelled, “Zack!” and hurried out of the restaurant.

  “Oh, Ali, you are going to have such a fun time. Zack. Who would've guessed Butterfinger was his favorite shake?”

  “And Muse, his favorite band.”

  We guessed who might also be in her group.

  “Maybe Caleb is going to ask you. Wouldn't it be perfect?”

  I could only hope. I didn't dare get excited. I'd heard he'd asked someone else.