His Kiss

by Melanie Marks

I was melting, seriously ready to swoon.

  Kendra rolled her eyes. “Get a room, guys! You two look as though you’re going to jump on each other any second.”

  That made me snap out of my hormonal daze and remember my plan—my plan to get over Griffin. The number one thing to do for that was—not kiss him.

  I swallowed, turning red and gave Kendra a look that I hoped said, “Help me.”

  I’d told her time and time again—all day—that I didn’t want to kiss The Griff. I didn’t tell her why, so I guess that could be the reason she went on and on all day, texting me about his sexy, “voluptuous” lips. Tempting me. Making me fantasize constantly, continually about closets and hands and whispers and mouths. She didn’t know my plan—that I needed to get over him so I could like a nice, “normal” guy. Not The Grief Master.

  “I’ll kiss you,” Kendra piped in suddenly. She batted her eyes at Griffin, half-playfully, half-not. And I wasn’t sure if, in some bizarre way, she was trying to help me, or if she just wanted her Kiss-The-Griff fantasy to come true. Either way, she was like that—a big flirt. Some people called her a skank. But I didn’t (because she was my cousin).

  Griffin tilted his head and Kendra went on with a smug, sly smile. “I mean, it would totally piss off, Zack—totally”

  She said it like that explained everything, but obviously it didn’t. ‘Cause Griffin quirked an eyebrow at her, seeming to be trying to figure out what she was getting at.

  “Why would I want to piss off Zack?” he asked, then his lips twitched, like he was restraining a grin. “Zack’s my friend.”

  Kendra reddened. “Oh. I know but—” She gestured at me, like why would you want to kiss her? “Ally said you only wanted to kiss her to piss off Aiden, and since they already broke up, and she’s not going to tell Aiden anything about it …”

  She trailed off since Griffin wasn’t looking at her anymore. Now he was looking at me and no longer seemed interested in anything she had to say. It was like to him she was no longer in the room.

  He took a step towards me, making me take a step back, which made him take another step towards me. He grinned as I took yet another step back, his gaze hypnotic.

  Griffin eyed the space I put between us, then took another step towards me until he had me backed into a corner.

  “I didn’t do this to prove a point or piss anyone off,” he said, his voice soft and husky. He brushed back my hair so gentle and sweet it sent tingles through my body, made me need to moan—but I didn’t, not out loud. I held it in, yearning for more of his gentleness, aching for it, but knowing I should push him away.

  He whispered near my ear. “I just wanted three more minutes in Heaven.”

  His words—the way he said them, so soft and seductive, and his warm breath tickling my neck—it was too much for my heart. Seriously, it couldn’t take it—so much excitement. I was ready to keel over. Totally die. Or swoon. Or something. Something ultra dramatic and embarrassing.

  Griffin’s eyes lingered on me, on my lips, then he looked back at Kendra. She was watching us from across the room like we were her favorite Soap Opera characters come to life, delightfully acting out her favorite scene.

  “Can you give us a minute?” Griffin said. “Alone?”

  Kendra’s eyes cut to mine. I’d given her strict instructions not to let us be alone together. She seemed to be weighing my instructions with the situation—negotiating it all in her head. Finally, she let out a sigh.

  “You know, I really can’t,” she said. “Ally’s my cousin. She’s like, totally innocent. She doesn’t kiss guys like you.”

  Griffin’s lips quirked into a grin. “She doesn’t kiss guys like me?”

  He gave a soft laugh at that, ‘cause well, I had kissed a guy like him—him. And liked it. A lot. And he knew it—he so knew it.

  Griffin seemed to think it was hilarious that Kendra—my cousin—had no idea we had kissed—not just once, but twice. His eyes danced with amusement but he didn’t rat me out. Instead, he gave me a playful, cock-eyed look, like: Aren’t you full of secrets, but all he said was: “I thought we had a deal.”

  He said it really low and close to my ear and had me ready to pant, We did! We so did! Plant those sexy, pillow soft lips on me, baby!

  But Kendra seemed to have heard Griffin. And she was the one that told him we had a deal—that I would kiss him if he fixed the car. And he held up his end of the deal—he fixed the car—so Kendra sighed. “Look, I know you’ve been working on the car all day and planning something sleazy. So, okay, you have three minutes—exactly three. I’m going to be waiting outside the door—right here, right out the door. I’ll hear my cousin if she yells—seriously.” She gave him a look like, So you better not try anything. But then she gave me a look like, Of course he’s going to try something—but hey he’s cute and you agreed to kiss him—and I’d have fun if I were in your shoes.

  That’s what it seemed she was saying.

  Kendra smiled—kind of wicked—then she went on aloud, “So, it’s like the game, ‘Three minutes in Heaven’—”

  She was going to go on talking, give us her spiel, but Griffin interrupted her, cocking an eyebrow. His lips twitched a grin. “Three minutes in heaven?”

  He said it like a question. Like he had never heard of the game. Only, he looked at me as he said it, his eyes sparkling of mischief. He seemed to just enjoy saying the name, as that’s what he’d been calling me the last couple of months—his “Three Minutes in Heaven.”

  Kendra tilted her head, like she realized she was missing the joke, but then she went on anyway, “Yeah, Three Minutes in Heaven.”

  She proceeded to tell us how to play the game—that we had exactly three minutes alone and then she was going to open the door. “But if I hear my cousin yelp, yell or scream,” she said, “the game’s over—right that minute—got it?”

  Griffin gave a little laugh, his eyes still on me, watching my face turn red though I was sure it was already the color of a tomato.

  “Got it,” he said.

  My heart was about to pounce out of my chest. It was beating so loud I was positive Griffin could hear it. Kendra too, though she left the shop, saying: “I’m going to be right outside the door.”

  Then she was gone and we were alone—just Griffin and me.

  His eyes lost their teasing look as his big but gentle hands slid down the sides of my shivering arms. His lips brushed my ear. “You okay?”

  I swallowed and nodded, though being this close to him, feeling his warm breath on my neck, made me shivery and tremble and practically pass out.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “I was just messing around.”

  “I know,” I murmured, because I did. This whole time I knew—he was only teasing. It was all a big joke. Only, he had fixed my car and I had made a deal and really, it would be lame to back out of it—joke or not. Big stupid crush or not.

  “But you earned it,” I said, trying to sound light, funny. Like my kiss really was a big ol’ prize guys strived to win.

  Griffin looked surprised, then grinned. Without saying anything—not a word—he drew his soft kewpie-doll lips to mine, instantly tantalizing my mouth with his hot hungry kisses … giving me another three minutes in heaven.

  ***

  When Kendra yanked open the door three minutes later, declaring “Times up!” Griffin made a low groaning sound, reluctantly pulling away from me. He leaned his forehead against mine. For a moment there was just our flushed faces, our exploding hearts, our panting as we tried to catch our breath. Only us.

  But Kendra laughed, yanking me out of my hormone-induced trance. “Wake up, Cous,” she said, pulling me away from Griffin. “You told me not to let you do this—you want a nice boy, remember? Not The Griff.”

  Griffin tilted his head, seeming amused, yet slightly intrigued by this information. He looked from me to my cousin. “What else did she say?”

  Kendra laughed. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know. Lo
ok, stay away from my cousin.” She literally pulled me towards the door. “Ally’s not your type.”

  I don’t know what Griffin said to that—if he said anything at all. Kendra was finally doing what I had asked, keeping me away from Griffin. Only it was too late. Too late for me to set my heart on Milo or any nice boy. It was totally set on The Griff.

  ***

  On the ride home Kendra wouldn’t shut up about “sparks.” She said she saw them flying between The Griff and me. It made me groan and slump down in my seat because I already knew there were sparks—major sparks. At least on my end. Probably not on Griffin’s though since he was just messing around and had skanky girls fighting over him. But that didn’t help me. It didn’t make my sparks any less sparky just because he didn’t feel them back. It just made them pathetic.

  “I don’t want to like Griffin,” I whined for the hundredth time. “I want to like … Milo.”

  “Milo?” Kendra smirked. “Geez, Ally, he’s practically Aiden. Try a new flavor.”

  I blinked, having no idea what she was talking about. “What?”

  She sighed like I lived in a vacuum and it distressed her deeply, then she went into this big analogy about guys being like ice cream and there’s all these different flavors.

  “Branch out,” she said. “Try something besides vanilla.”

  I sulked. I liked vanilla. I was comfortable with vanilla. Sure new, exciting flavors were tempting—alluring beyond belief—but I was pretty sure they’d give me nothing but a bellyache. And a toothache. And most definitely a heartache. ‘Cause that’s what The Griff was—a heartache waiting to happen. He didn’t have “girlfriends” he didn’t even have “dates.” He just stirred up a girl’s heart with his seductive eyes and sultry lips, and his hot, sexy singing voice. Then he did to her heart the same thing he did on the hockey rink—Tore. It. Up.

  I didn’t want a guy like that. I wanted to stay clear of guys like that. I liked sensitive, caring guys—like Aiden. Guys I could hold hands with, write songs with. I missed that so much—writing with Aiden.

  I sighed, feeling sad anew. Kendra had said Aiden and Milo were the same, but they weren’t. Milo could sing, yeah—he had a nice voice—but he had no interest in writing songs and he kind of made me feel like a freak when I told him how much I liked to write them.

  I sighed again because those things had nothing to do with why Kendra was looking at me the way she was. She wanted to know why I didn’t embrace sparks.

  “Griffin and I don’t have anything in common,” I grumbled. “I have a lot in common with vanilla.”

  “Like what?” Kendra sort of sneered—but not in a mean way exactly, more in a Get Real way. “Besides Aiden being a girl and you being a girl, what else did you have in common?”

  Ugh! She was only messing around about Aiden being a girl, I knew that, but I hated people making fun of Aiden—his being emotional and sensitive and everything. Even now that he had broken my heart I was tempted to stick up for him. But I didn’t. I bit my lips together, resisting the urge. Aiden wasn’t mine anymore. He was going to have to fight his own battles. I needed to release him.

  Instead of defending him, finally I said, “Aiden and I used to write songs together. I loved that.” I slunk down in my seat feeling like I might cry. “I miss that.”

  I really did. I missed that more than anything—having that connection with a guy, a devoted interest in something we both loved and could work on together, be partners with.

  Kendra didn’t say anything else. I think she felt sorry for me.

  ***

  Only a week after backing Mom’s car into the 7-Eleven dumpster I missed the after school late bus. I don’t know how it happened, exactly. I’d had to stay after school to take a make-up test for French because I had missed class due to a dentist appointment, but when I finished the make-up test I still had a lot of time left before the late bus was supposed to come, so I went into the library to work on this song I was writing called, “No More Writing Songs Together,” and I guess I lost track of time.

  When I realized how late it was I scrambled toward the library exit and was almost out the door before I realized I forgot my song-journal behind. I had to turn around and go back for it … and then I missed the bus.

  The crazy thing was—this wasn’t even my first time to forget the journal. Well, okay, this particular one I hadn’t ever forgotten. But, of course, I’d filled up hundreds of them since I started keeping one. A few years ago I had forgot one in the school cafeteria. Or it might have been in a class. Or the school bus. Actually, I had no idea where I’d left it. But it turned up missing and I searched my house for it for days—weeks. Then it showed up—in the mail! Someone sent it back to me. The freaky thing was though: it didn’t have my name in it—anywhere. So, how did the person know it was mine?

  I had no idea, but realizing someone had found it—and probably read it—was creepy enough. But somehow they had known it was mine and where I lived, but they didn’t let me know who they were. They sent it back without a note or a return address or anything. It gave me the shivers just thinking about it.

  But after that, for years, I was always cautious with my notebook—making sure I had it at all times and that I didn’t accidently leave it around anywhere or forget it. But d’oh! Today I almost did forget it. I came so close it made me shudder.

  When I realized I missed the late bus, I consoled myself thinking, “Well, at least I’ve got my notebook.”

  Seriously. I was able to console myself with that—even though the day was cold and drizzly and I had a six-mile walk ahead of me.

  But I barely made it off the school grounds before Griffin’s red Mustang pulled up beside me. When I saw it, my heart got all fluttery and violent and I almost tripped over my own feet.

  He opened his window. “Need a ride?”

  My pulse raced hearing his offer and seeing his adorable, boyish grin. Little did he know but I’d secretly left him a huge cookie again—at his locker during third period this morning and I’d written him another anonymous poem to go with it. This time the poem was about his kiss. But I’d made it really vague again, so he wouldn’t have a clue it was from me.

  “Um …” I tried ignoring the small voice at the back of my head that was screaming, “Stick with vanilla, Ally! You need vanilla. This flavor will only give you cavities!”

  I smiled. “Sure! That would be great!”

  As I rounded the car to climb into the passenger seat I tried reasoning with the voice. After all, it was cold and rainy out. I’m only accepting the ride to get out of the wet, I told myself.

  It seemed perfectly reasonable. Right?

  As I buckled up my seatbelt the weather took a turn for the worse. It started drizzling harder, practically raining. Like it was a sign—I was supposed to be in Griffin’s car. It made me smile. Only, right then, Griffin reached out to flip on his windshield wipers and right then I remembered: Gummy bears!

  Guh!

  I’d slid a bunch of them under Griffin’s windshield wipers this morning. Why? I don’t know exactly. Just for fun, I guess. Mom had dropped me off at school after my dentist appointment and she had to write me a note so I could be excused for missing French class, so she pulled into the nearest parking spot to write the note and it was right next to Griffin’s Mustang. And so when I got out of Mom’s car and I was right there, next to Griffin’s prized possession, it seemed I had to do something.

  At first I just had the impulse to write Griffin a quick, anonymous note or draw him a smiley face or something—something to tuck under his windshield wipers. But when I reached into my backpack, what I pulled out was my stash of gummy bears.

  Seeing the colorful bears gave me an idea. After all, it was a drizzly, moist day and a note would get sad and soggy. But gummy bears—well, I figured gummy bears might get … pretty.

  You never know.

  So, giggling a little—‘cause I’m a lunatic—I put a handful (or two) of gummy bear
s under his windshield wipers, thinking the outcome might be kind of cool and beautiful. You know, add a little color to Griffin’s life, like his kiss had added to mine.

  So, see, it was metaphoric. Kind of.

  But whoa. To be sitting here with Griffin when he turned on his windshield wipers—that was something I hadn’t expected.

  As he flipped them on I let out a little gasp but then quickly turned it into a cough and tried to look innocent even as a watery rainbow smeared across his windshield. Griffin tilted his head looking confused by the colors the wipers were producing. Each time they flipped a new rainbow spread across his windshield.

  Griffin grinned, cocking his eyebrows. “What the …?”

  I bit my lips together to keep a laugh from bursting out. The look on his face—so bewildered—it had me ready to roll on the floor laughing hysterically, but I tried my hardest to keep a straight face and look bewildered too.

  ‘Cause, well, I didn’t want him to know it was me. I just didn’t. Didn’t want him to know I had been thinking about him, and that I had put candy on his car. Just because it was embarrassing. ‘Cause he already knew—knew I had a huge, stupid crush on him.

  For a moment I almost let myself believe I was in the clear and got away with my stalker-girl trick. My heart actually started to quiet slightly.

  Only …

  Just then I noticed my gummy bears bag was sticking out of my jacket pocket. D’oh! I quickly shoved it deep inside, trying to do it inconspicuously, hoping Griffin didn’t notice. Only, I’d been a spaz about it—‘cause yikes!—total evidence that I was the rainbow-producing prankster.

  It had my heart all in an uproar. I snuck a quick sideways glance at Griffin. An amused grin played on his lips, but that could have still just been because of the rainbow on his windshield, so I wasn’t sure if he had noticed the bag in my pocket or not. It was hard to tell with Griffin. He seemed to be a casual, easy-going kind of guy, yet it seemed nothing got past him. Nothing. And it didn’t help that he always had a sardonic smirk on his face—like he knew a funny secret or joke or something and really wanted to share it, only he knew it would be totally inappropriate.