Soul Kiss

by Neil S. Plakcy

  That freaked her out even more. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter? You haven’t voluntarily kissed me since you were eight years old.”

  “Mom. You know I love you and Dad. Even Robbie.”

  As I walked out of the kitchen I heard her muttering, “Aliens. My daughter has been kidnapped by aliens. Now if they could only take my son.”

  The next day Daniel and I met up in the library to go over the results of our weekend experiments. “It doesn’t seem to have made any difference,” I said. “It’s like it was a one-time thing.”

  “Two souls meeting for the first time.” He tilted his head and smiled goofily, and I could tell he was messing with me.

  “A soul kiss,” I said. “AKA a French kiss, AKA too much tongue.”

  “Well, if you didn’t like it…”

  “I didn’t say that.” My foot found his under the table.

  “Maybe we should try something different.” He looked over at me. “I could kiss another girl and see if she get smarter. Like Brie, or Chelsea. Not Mindy, though. Braces.”

  “No way.” I pushed him in the side. “You are not experimenting on any other girl.”

  We must have been talking too loud because the librarian looked over at us. I quickly ducked down to stare at the computer screen.

  “It was just a suggestion,” Daniel said. When I looked at him out of the corner of my eye I saw he was smiling.

  “A bad one.”

  We settled down to work. Just before we had to catch the bus, though, Daniel said, “I need to log into my school account before we go. I have to answer a message from Mrs. Goodwin.”

  She was the school guidance counselor. “Are you in trouble?”

  He shook his head. I watched as he called up the school website and logged in. Interesting; his password was CubaL1bre. I hadn’t thought he was that in touch with the whole Cuban thing. My mom could probably relate, with her Scots obsession.

  Ick. Did I just compare my boyfriend to my mom?

  “She just wants to know why I’m not applying to colleges.”

  “You totally should,” I said.

  “We went over this, Melissa. I’m not.”

  I crossed my arms and pouted while he typed his answer, then we walked down to the bus dock together. We held hands until we both had to get on our buses.

  When I got home, my mom was in the kitchen making meat loaf for dinner. I wanted to barf. I started to back out of the kitchen but she wouldn’t let me. “Stop there. I want to talk to you some more about your speed-reading experiments with Daniel.”

  Whatever reticence she’d been feeling the night before had evaporated. Great. Next we’d be talking about sanitary napkins and feeling fresh. “It’s no big deal,” I said. “I can read a lot faster now than I used to be able to. Who cares?”

  “Your father thinks you’re insecure about your chances of getting into Penn. But I have to tell you that if you’re just now waking up to your talents it’s a bit late in the game.”

  “Late in the game, Mom? I’m seventeen. It’s not like I’m some fifty-year-old loser whose smartest years are behind her.”

  Oops, that looked like it hit a target. Didn’t mean to.

  “I’ll have you know that your father and I use our brains a lot, Missy.”

  “If you used them, you’d remember my name is Melissa. Not Missy.”

  She turned to the sink and washed the crumbly bits of meat loaf from her hands. When she started drying them with a paper towel she shifted her attack. “You know your father and I love you for who you are, Melissa. If you don’t get into Penn, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll go to college somewhere, and you’ll have the chance to develop into the brilliant, beautiful girl we know you are.”

  “Develop into. So I’m not there yet? How exactly will going to college make me beautiful?”

  She groaned. “Do you have to micro-analyze everything I say?” She held up her hand. “No, cancel that. Of course you do. I did it to my parents.”

  Creepy. I was just like my mother had been when she was my age. “Really?”

  “Of course. Neither of my parents went to college, you know. I thought I was so much smarter than they were, even though they both had good brains and had worked hard all their lives. They didn’t want me to go to Penn; they thought the big city was too dangerous, and they were worried I would grow up in to someone who wouldn’t even recognize them.”

  I sat on a kitchen stool. “What did they want you to do?”

  “Take a secretarial course at Lackawanna College. Get married to someone named Campbell, Stewart or MacTavish, practice my Highland dancing, and have babies.”

  “Did they not want you to marry Dad? Because he wasn’t Scots?”

  “They had given up on me by the time I met your father. When I came home from Philadelphia for holidays it was like we were speaking a different language.” She leaned back against the counter. “Your father thinks you took the SATs again because you wanted to make Daniel take them. Is that true?”

  “It was just an experiment,” I said. “To see if this new way of reading that Daniel showed me could help me do better on tests. I wanted him to take the test so we could compare scores.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the whole truth.” She crossed her arms. “Melissa, you can’t run Daniel’s life for him. You’re going to college in the fall, and you may or not even still be seeing him by then.”

  “He’s so smart, Mom, but he hasn’t had the advantages you’ve given me and Robbie.” She and my dad were always talking about how we should be more grateful for all the crap that they’ve given us, like having a stable home wasn’t to their benefit, too. “I’m just trying to help him out. You’ve seen how smart he is. And he’s having a good effect on me, right?”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” she said darkly.

  I didn’t want to listen to any more crap so I flounced up to my room. But I kept thinking about what my mother had said, that I’d be going off to college in the fall, and Daniel wouldn’t, and we might not be able to keep on dating, especially if I didn’t get into Penn and had to go somewhere farther away.

  The next day I had literary magazine, so I couldn’t talk to Daniel until we met in the library on Wednesday afternoon. “I think you should apply to Penn,” I said. “There’s still time. And then we could be in college together.”

  He shook his head. “I told you, I’m not planning on college right now.”

  “But why not? You’re really smart. And they have great scholarship programs. They promise that if you get in, they’ll make it so you can afford to go there.”

  “I don’t want to, all right? Let it be.”

  “No, Daniel. You’re being stupid.”

  He turned on me. “All my life, my mother has taken care of me. She works terrible jobs just so we can have food to eat and clothes to wear and a safe place to live. When I finish high school I’m going to get a job as a computer technician and make money so I can take care of her for a change.”

  “Is that what your mother wants?”

  “It’s what I want.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel. Your mother wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your life for hers.”

  “My life is ridiculous? Thanks a lot, Melissa.” He leaned over and turned off the computer. “I’m leaving. See you tomorrow.”

  “Daniel. Wait.”

  The librarian looked over at us. Daniel packed up his books and walked out of the library. I just sat there, my brain all jumbled. How lucky was I, that I only had to look after myself, that I didn’t have to worry about supporting my parents—at least not until they got really old and wrinkly.

  Then I realized that Daniel had just walked out on me. How rude. When I was only trying to help him.

  What if he was breaking up with me? Oh my God. I wanted to jump up and run after him. I felt tears welling up inside me.

  Apply Yourself

  My phone burped with a text message from
Brie. She was waiting at the bus dock, she said, and Daniel had stormed past her and gotten on his bus. Where was I?

  I grabbed my stuff and sprinted downstairs, jumping on the bus just as the driver was getting ready to close the door. I stumbled back to where Brie was sitting and fell into the seat next to her.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Daniel’s being an ass. You know he’s totally smart, right? But he won’t even apply to colleges.”

  “Aren’t his parents making him?”

  “I guess his mom isn’t.”

  She nodded. “He is from Levittown, after all.”

  “What does that have to do with it?”

  “Look around you in class some time, Melissa,” she said. “Almost everybody in AP classes with us is from Stewart’s Crossing. It’s not that Levittown kids aren’t smart—I know a bunch of kids who could be in AP with us if they wanted, or if their parents pushed them. But it’s just not a thing, you know?”

  “So you think we’re only in AP classes and going on to college because our parents want us to?”

  She shrugged. “Hard to say. I know I’m totally bored in parallel classes. The only time I really have to think is in AP. But if I didn’t have my parents always talking about college, and reminding me about deadlines, and paying all the fees and stuff? I don’t know.”

  I sat back in my seat for the rest of the ride. Was that all Daniel needed? A little encouragement, someone to push him to do what he should?

  When we got to our stop I jumped up. “See you, Brie.” I ran over to my house and up to my room. Using Daniel’s ID and password, I logged into his school account. Yeah, it’s wrong, but I had good intentions. And besides, I was sure that Mrs. Florez would want Daniel to go to college, not give up his chance for an education just to make some quick money.

  I put in my mother’s credit card number (wrong again) and ordered a set of his transcripts to be sent to the University of Pennsylvania. Then I went to the SAT site. Our scores weren’t available yet, but I was able to log in as Daniel there too (thank you for using the same password, Daniel) and have a copy of his scores sent to Penn too.

  Then I logged on to the Penn website and started my college application as Daniel Florez.

  By the time my mom called us all to dinner, I had finished the preliminaries. I went downstairs and endured some more cross-examination about my freaky reading speed, all the time thinking about the essay questions and how Daniel would answer them.

  The essays were challenging, in part because I had only known Daniel for two months, and sometimes I had to just imagine things from his background. The recommendation letters were tougher; I didn’t want to fake them. If Penn found out, for sure they would not let Daniel in.

  From his high school account, I sent emails to Mr. Iccanello, Mrs. Ash, and Mrs. Becker. I attached PDFs of the recommendation form and asked to have them forwarded directly to the admissions office at Penn.

  There was always the chance that one of our teachers would say something to Daniel, but I knew I had to ask them to make sure they’d send off mine.

  The hardest hurdle was the financial aid forms. I didn’t even know his mother’s first name, no less her social security number, where she worked, or how much money she made. I filled out what I could and submitted the form. If it was missing information, I figured they’d just deal with that after Daniel got in.

  By bedtime, I was pleased with myself. I had applied for early decision at Penn; as a “legacy” applicant, someone whose parents had gone there, I was told it was my best chance. I had put in other applications, at some other Ivy League schools and a couple of safety schools, in case Penn didn’t come through.

  If I didn’t get in, there would still be enough time to put together an application for Daniel somewhere else I still had a chance for. No matter what else happened, I was determined that he was going to go to college-- preferably with me, of course.

  Our midterm reports were e-mailed to us and copied to our parents on Friday morning, which was kind of a bummer if you had something to hide. My straight As were nothing bad, but if I’d had the choice I’d have kept them secret, just to avoid the additional parental grilling.

  I’d always been the kind of student who got a mix of As and Bs. Mostly As, in the subjects that I cared about and paid attention to. But with Daniel’s brain cells infecting mine, I did well even in the subjects I didn’t like. He, of course, got straight As too.

  That night at dinner my mother started in on me again. “We’re so proud of you, Melissa. But we’re worried too. You just haven’t been yourself lately.”

  “Do you ever listen to yourself, Mom?” I asked, a forkful of gluten-free (and taste free too) spaghetti halfway to my mouth. “You’re complaining that my grades are too good?”

  “We’re thinking maybe you should see someone,” my father said. “See if there’s something wrong with your brain. Maybe a tumor.”

  “Richard!” my mother said sharply.

  “Scratch that,” my father said.

  “A tumor? You think I have a brain tumor, and that’s why I’m getting better grades? Are you guys nuts? You’re always telling us both that we should apply ourselves. Well, I’m applying myself and look at the reaction I get.”

  “We just care about you, sweetheart,” my mother said.

  I pushed my chair back and stood up. “You know what? Go back to caring about Robbie. I liked it better when you were so caught up in his problems you never even noticed me.”

  I stomped out of the kitchen and upstairs, slamming my bedroom door. Honestly. Parents. You just can’t please them.

  Brie texted me. Did I want to go to the movies with her? I so did. I climbed out of my bedroom window like usual, not even caring if my parents were on my case again. The only light on at Brie’s house was the one over the front porch, and only her mom’s car was in the driveway.

  “Where are your parents?” I asked, when she came to the door.

  “Dinner party for my dad’s company. I was just going to stay home and watch TV but there’s nothing on.”

  “I’m glad you called me.” We climbed into her mom’s car. “I know I’ve been a bad friend, hanging around with Daniel so much.”

  Brie shrugged. “It’s okay. Has he ever apologized for storming out on you?”

  “We didn’t talk about it. If he wants to be a jerk, that’s his problem.” I sat back against the seat with my legs stretched out. Daniel and I hadn’t talked about college again, and I for sure hadn’t told him I’d put in his application to Penn. Plenty of time to talk after he got his acceptance and his full scholarship.

  With the issue of Daniel out of the way, we both relaxed, chatting the whole way to the mall. We parked near the movie theater, bought our tickets, and founds seats just as the previews were finishing. Once inside, we both turned off our phones, like good movie patrons.

  We sat through the movie, a dumb comedy, and at least we both laughed a lot. “You want a coffee?” I asked as we walked out. “I think the bookstore’s still open.”

  “Sure. My parents won’t be home for hours yet.”

  We got our coffees and sat down. “When do you hear from Penn?” Brie asked.

  “Not till December 15 at least. How about Vassar?” Brie had chosen that as her early decision school because she was so sure that Military Boy was going to get into West Point.

  “Early January, I think,” she said.

  “After I talked to you on the bus the other day, I decided that Daniel needed a boost to get his college applications in.” I took a sip of my caramel brule latte. “So I applied to Penn for him.”

  “You what?”

  “It wasn’t that hard. I happened to see his school password, and he used the same one for the SATs. I even wrote his essays for him. The only hard part was the financial aid stuff. But I just fudged on that.”

  She stared at me with her mouth open. “Melissa, that is so wrong.”

  “But like you said,
he doesn’t have a mom or dad pushing him. So I did.”

  “Don’t you try to shove this off on me. You stole his password. You faked his essays. Oh, my God, you did so many bad things. You could, like, get arrested.”

  “Nobody’s arresting me for filling out Daniel’s application. Besides, it was interesting, trying to think like him.”

  “Are you going to tell him you did all that?”

  “Not unless one of the teachers I asked for a recommendation lets something slip. Otherwise, I’ll just wait until he gets his acceptance letter. Then he’ll thank me.”

  She curled up one side of her lip. “Yeah, you’re not going to tell him because you know what you did was wrong, and he’ll probably have a cow over it.”

  “So? At least he’ll be in college.”

  “Melissa. What if he doesn’t want to go to college? Or can’t afford it?”

  “First of all, they have scholarships. They make a big deal on the application that if you can’t afford to go, they’ll help you out. And why wouldn’t he want to go? He’s smart. And if he doesn’t get a degree he’ll never get a good job or anything. His life will be ruined. I’m not going to stand around and do nothing.”

  She drained the last of her coffee. “You’re crazy. But I know you. Once you get your mind set on something there’s no changing it.”

  As we drove home I thought about that. Was I stubborn? Unreasonable? Sure, my parents were always complaining about that, when they were paying attention to me. And I did like to have my own way. Usually because I knew that my way was the right way.

  “Thanks for calling me tonight,” I said, as we got out of the car in her driveway. “I had fun.”

  “Me, too,” Brie said. “But think about what you did, Melissa. All right?”

  “All right.”

  I walked around the corner. It was after eleven, and most nights by then my parents are sound asleep. But it looked like every light was on at my house. Great.

  I slunk around to my bedroom and tried to raise the window. It was locked. Shit. They must have checked on me and seen I was gone. Oh, well. They’d hardly cared before when I had snuck out. I’d get another one of those lectures and that would be it.