One Kiss to Win

by Romi Hart

  I’d had enough of both of them. “Stop it! Stop it!”

  By that time, a group of students had gathered to watch Jett and Troy fight each other. I looked at the crowd, feeling embarrassed at being a spectacle. I took off in a run towards Clark Kerr.

  “Laney!” I heard Jett call after me, but I kept running.

  My adrenaline and humiliation must have overridden my nausea. I ran all the way back to my dorm room. Marsha was thankfully not there. I wanted to have time to think about what happened on my own. I already knew what she would say.

  I threw my shoes and socks off quickly. I was on the verge of tears, but I wasn’t going to give into them. I stood in Tadasana focusing on the sensation of my feet firmly planted on the floor. I put my hands in Anjali Mudra right in the center of my chest. My hands were close enough to my body that I felt the rapid beat of my heart.

  Lifting my hands up over my head, I focused on inhaling. On exhale, I brought my arms back down and my hands back together in Anjali Mudra. I kept my eyes closed and repeated this simple movement until my heartbeat relaxed and the tears receded.

  I had never been in a situation like this. Clearly, both Jett and Troy were bad news for me. I came to Berkeley for one reason, my education. My mother raised me to be a strong independent woman. It was a waste of my time for me to get caught up with those guys.

  Fighting? It was absurdly barbaric.

  I opened our mini-fridge to get something to drink. That fuzzy dehydration feeling still hovered over me. Ironically, I grabbed a Gatorade because that just happened to be all we had in the fridge aside from beer, which I had no interest in drinking for a long time. I guzzled down the cool orange elixir hoping the boost in electrolytes would be enough to sustain me through my next class.

  After an hour of relaxing in my bed, I walked back to campus through the Haas courtyard not expecting the multitude of Haas business organizations to be lined up with tables, eager and ready to recruit new members. I fumbled in my backpack for my fake Raybans. I wasn’t in the best mood to talk with people.

  I had no idea that Jett was in the Haas Sports Business Club. Before I could turn around, I passed by him and his football buddies behind a table tossing around a football. I tucked my head down and ducked behind a tall girl hoping he wouldn’t see me.

  I sighed with relief when I made it to the Future Business Leaders of America table. I escaped without Jett seeing me. A pretty Pakistani girl with long full eyelashes greeted me, talking quickly, “Hi! Are you interested in community service, consulting, finance, history, publications, and networking? FBLA can also help with professional development and networking.”

  “I am interested in community service and networking,” I answered. If I joined a club, it would be awesome to be part of one that was business oriented but also committed to community service.

  I took the pamphlet she held out to me and noticed her wide, genuine smile. “We’re having a new member meeting on Friday. You should come.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I walked away. She seemed nice. I thought I might check it out.

  “Laney,” I looked up from the pamphlet. It was Jett. I brushed past him. “Laney, wait. Let me explain,” he said with urgency.

  He ran in front of me, blocking my way. I crossed my arms. “Just leave me alone, Jett.”

  He shook his head, making that blonde hair of his bounce around his broad shoulders. “Laney, Brick House doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m not trying to hit it and quit it with you. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “You wouldn’t do that, huh?” I couldn’t let him get away with lying to me. “Troy isn’t the only person to tell me about your reputation. You’re always with a new girl. It isn’t a secret.”

  Jett looked like I had hit him in the gut full force. “Damn, Laney.”

  See, words can be just as powerful as fists.

  “Jett, I like you and genuinely hope all your dreams of becoming a huge football star come true, but I’m going to be busy with my own life.” It was hard as hell to look into his sweet, handsome face and tell him things I could see where hurting him. “Too busy to keep up with you and your partying and all your girls.” I stepped around him. “Please excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I hope you have a great life, Jett. I really do.”

  I walked by him without looking at him directly. From my peripheral vision, I could see his stunned face. His mouth hung open, speechless.

  It was too bad. Jett seemed like a nice guy. Gorgeous too, but looks could be viciously deceiving.

  6

  Jett

  I watched Laney walk away from me. Her blonde ponytail swished from side to side as she rushed inside the building. The sun shone into her hair illuminating it. Her hair looked like spun gold. My chest actually ached to watch her go. That sensation was new for me.

  No girl had ever told me off before like that. It was sexy. I was intrigued more than ever now. She had her priorities in order. I respected her for speaking her mind even if I suffered the brunt of her scorn. A girl like Laney was serious, mature, and committed to her future and academics. She was different from the football groupie girls that were always hanging around the team and me. Those girls were a dime a dozen, but Laney? She was unique. Special.

  In reality, who did I want to be with long-term? A party girl? Or a genuine brilliant girl like Laney?

  I understood that to get her I needed to clean up my act. She wasn’t going to hang out with just any guy, even if I was the star quarterback. From right then and there, I pledged to change for the better for her and for me, for that matter.

  It was true. What kind of functional alcoholic orders Morning Recovery by the case on a weekly basis?

  Laney would change me. She’d make me a better man.

  Ox, Dylan, Carl, Hammer, and Hatchet crowded around me, laughing hysterically. Ox hooked his arm around my neck and rubbed his fist into the top of my head. “Yo. From where we were watching, we think that went really well.”

  I pushed Ox off me while the guys erupted into hooping laughter again and Hammer had to add his little jab, “Gun, she is definitely into you.”

  “If being into you means never talking to you ever again,” Hatchet chimed in.

  I let the guys rib me, but I was determined to change Laney’s mind about me. “Guys, this is just a minor block.”

  Carl gave me a slight punch in the arm as he winked at me. “Minor? She basically told you to have a nice life, which where I come from means: See ya, loser.”

  Dylan seemed to be the only guy on my side as he teased Carl, “Aren’t you from some small hick town in Georgia where everyone is a loser?”

  “Atlanta? Atlanta is just some small hick town to you, Dyl-Doe?” Carl asked, narrowing his brown eyes at Dylan.

  We all looked at each other and laughed. Then Dylan had to add, “Yup. Basically! If you’re from there.”

  Ox said with a snicker, “Carl, there is a reason why your nickname is Go Home, remember?”

  Carl replied, “Ya, ya, ya. ATL is too bad ass for all you Cali kids anyway.”

  Dylan piped in, “Hey! I’m from Oregon.”

  Carl was quick to say, "Also known as wannabe NorCal. Portland wants to be Berkeley so bad."

  Dylan thought for a moment before saying, “True. Can’t deny that.”

  As we walked back to our Sports Business Club table, Ox asked me, “What are you gonna do, Gun? Drop her, right? Why bother?”

  I looked at my old Samoan friend with a serious look. “Nope, that’s where you guys come in.” The guys huddled around me. “Brick House has his eye on her. He’s running interference and needs to be shut down.”

  Hammer crossed his arms looking ready to jump into a brawl right at that moment. I held my hand up. “No. Not like that.” Hammer relaxed his stance a little, but I knew he had my back no matter what my plan was. I knew all my guys had my back. We were a solid team.

  “We’ve gotta obliterate my bad boy rep. I know Brick House has gi
ven her an earful about me, but I don’t know who else is feeding her garbage. So I need you guys to spread the word about what a gentleman I am and how I am definitely under no circumstances a player of any kind.”

  Carl frowned at me as if what I was asking was impossible. “That is going to take a serious rewrite of history.”

  Dylan shook his head as he remarked, “We need one of those memory eraser sticks like they used in ‘Men in Black.’”

  Even Hatchet was doubtful. “There is a lot out there about you, Jett. Is this even going to be possible?”

  With so much doubt how could I forge ahead like it wouldn’t be a problem at all? “Maybe not, but I need you guys to try.”

  They all nodded in agreement as Hatchet answered for them all, “Okay. Sure. We’ll give it a shot.”

  With my guys on board, I continued, “I plan on taking Laney out, but Brick House seems to be lurking around every corner. I don’t know how he does it, but you guys need to get in his way when I take her out. I can’t have another confrontation with him like the one we had today in front of her.”

  “Alright. Whatever you need, you got it,” Ox assured me.

  “I hope this girl is worth it, Gun,” Hammer said, throwing the football up and catching it.

  “She is,” I replied earnestly.

  I left the guys in the Haas courtyard to run some errands. I needed to show Laney how genuine my intentions were. I headed to Ashby Flowers on Telegraph Avenue. It was the flower shop I always used when sending my mom flowers. The owner, Maggie, a sweet old lady, made flower arrangements my mom gushed over. I had little knowledge of what made a beautiful bouquet, but Maggie transformed my sentiments into a gorgeous visual display of blossoms every time.

  I parked my car in the Whole Foods parking lot. Before getting the flowers, I ran into Whole Foods and grabbed a large box of Lake Champlain Chocolates, a gourmet assortment of Vermont chocolates: milk, white, and dark chocolate truffles and specialty creams like orange, raspberry, and cherry. Lake Champlain Chocolates were delicious. I’d bought a gift box just for myself and devoured the entire box after the Stanford game last year.

  Victories over ‘Stanfurd’ called for special celebrations, in my book. I was tempted to buy two boxes but told myself it wasn’t the time for me to be a lush. Besides, Laney hadn’t agreed to go out with me just yet. It wasn’t celebration time until then.

  I moved my car across the parking lot to the corner where Ashby Flowers was. The tiny building with a bright green awning sat on the corner of Ashby and Telegraph, sharing parking lot space with Whole Foods. The small no frills windowed flower shop may not have looked glamorous on the outside, but Maggie was a floral magician. She was key to getting Laney to go out with me.

  I walked into the shop. The bell on the front door jingled. Maggie popped up from behind the counter. Her bright white hair was swept up into a loose bun. She was probably only five feet tall and had to tilt her head up to look at me. “ Hello, Jett! You getting some flowers for your Mama?”

  With a shake of my head, I leaned on the counter. “Not today, Maggie. I’m here to get flowers for a girl this time.”

  She ran out from behind the counter to give me a hug. I stooped so her arms could reach up to me. “It’s about time. She must be a special girl, Jett.”

  With a nod, I let her know she’d hit the nail on the head, “She is, Maggie.”

  Her red lips pulled into a smile. “That’s wonderful!”

  I smiled right back at her and gave her a wink. “But she isn’t mine... yet. I’m going to need your help.”

  “A girl who’s a challenge!” She extended her index finger and shook it at me. “Always go for the challenging girls. This girl must know her worth! What did you have in mind?”

  As she made her way back behind the counter, I looked around at all the flowers. “I want to show her that I have genuine feelings for her. That I think she’s special. Maggie, she’s beautiful and so smart. I’ve never met anyone like her. But I don’t want to come on too strong, you know?”

  Maggie rubbed her chin with her tiny hand, in thought. Then she sprang into action. “I’ve got just the thing for you. You trust me?”

  “Always,” I replied. It was best to let Maggie perform her magic without any specific input by me.

  I watched her scurry around the shop grabbing different flowers. Her little feet in slippers padded around the linoleum floor. She held up bright pink and lavender roses. “You want to give her roses, but not red roses. Red roses are for after you get the girl,” she said with a wink.

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, I leaned back on the wall and watched her work. “That’s a good thing to know.”

  She lifted one of the pink tulips up to show me. “Tulips symbolize love but not in a showy way. See how the tulip’s petals curl into itself.” She pointed to the tulip’s rounded shape. “The petals contain the love right in the center, privately.”

  I gazed at the bouquet she was quickly creating. “Is that so?”

  Next, she arranged green and pink hydrangeas into the mix. “Hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions. This will tell her your feelings are straight from your heart."

  From my heart? Am I really putting myself out there like that?

  Lastly, she added green blossoms I’d never seen before. “These are cymbidium orchids. Orchids mean love, beauty, and strength. In ancient Greece, orchids were associated with virility.” She put her small hand to her mouth and giggled.

  I laughed too. Maggie, a woman in her eighties, most likely thought mentioning virility to a young man was risqué.

  When she was done, a leaf-lined cylinder vase overflowed with gorgeous colorful blossoms. It was stunning. Maggie was a flower magician. I picked up on Laney's interest in plants and flowers. I hoped the unique arrangement would impress her.

  In the card, I wrote,

  Laney,

  I’m sorry. Please take these flowers and chocolates as my apology. I hate that you think the worst of me. I’d like to take you to dinner at Chez Panisse. Please accept my invitation and my apology. I’ve never met anyone like you. I’d like to get to know you better. Please don’t hold my past against me. Please think about giving me the chance to prove myself to you. That’s all I’m asking for is one chance to show you I might’ve been a certain way before I met you, but now that I have, I’ve changed.

  I hope you will call.

  Jett

  510-682-6962

  I looked up Laney’s address on the Haas directory: Clark Kerr Campus and jotted the address down for Maggie.

  Giving her my best charming smile, I asked one more thing of the nice woman, “Maggie, can you deliver some chocolates I bought her too?”

  She grinned. “Of course! Of course!”

  “Let me run out to my car and grab them real quick.” I hurried out and came back with the box of candy, placing it on the countertop.

  She looked down at the box. “Vermont Chocolate! I love Lake Champlain Chocolates! This girl must really be special!”

  “She really is, Maggie. You’d like her.” I left the shop feeling fantastic about the flowers and candy.

  With an idea in mind, I ran back into Whole Foods and picked up another box of Lake Champlain Chocolates.

  From the glass door of Ashby Flowers, I didn’t see Maggie behind the counter as I opened the door gently and held the bell in my fist to stop it from jingling.

  Tiptoeing, I put the chocolates on the counter and picked up a pen and piece of paper that were nearby. A quick note told her I was thankful for her help and the candy was for her for being such a nice person. Then I hurried out before Maggie returned.

  In the car, I drove with the windows down, feeling good about my campaign for Laney’s affection. Maggie’s flower magic had to work. Laney had to call me. I couldn’t get her out of my head.

  7

  Laney

  After class, I was in no hurry to get back to Clark Kerr. I felt like I’d been rushing around all d
ay especially after I ran away from Jett and Troy acting like Neanderthals in front of all those people. It was humiliating!

  I stopped by the International House’s café to grab some much-needed caffeine. My hangover had faded a bit, but I needed an energy boost. I sat down with my frothy cinnamon latte and took out my book, “Competitive Strategy: Techniques for Analyzing Industries and Competitors.” I opened the book to the chapter on market signals, but I couldn’t concentrate.

  The café hummed a harmonious mix of so many languages, it took my attention. I put the book away and just looked around me, taking it all in. I was surrounded by so many people from different faraway places who were all here in Berkeley for the same thing, to study. And I was one of them.

  Of course, Florida wasn’t that far away, but still, I was in California on my own at this spectacular school. I sipped my latte savoring the woody savory aroma from the cinnamon. I loved it here.

  On the walk home, I checked the time. My mom would be home now probably eating dinner while grading her students’ work or going over her research. We spent many dinners together, mother and daughter, eating while diligently reading or grading.

  A couple of KA guys were out in front of their house sitting on a ratty couch drinking beers, people watching and yelling at girls as they walked by. I crossed the street. I was not in the mood.

  Seriously, did catcalling ever work on any girl ever in the history of time? I doubted it.

  A few minutes later, I watched in disbelief as a pretty girl with a green backpack actually stopped to talk to one of the KA guys after he complimented her ass. I guess that did work with girls.

  Some girls.

  I hovered my thumb over my mom’s number. I wanted to call her so badly, but I stopped myself. I knew talking with her after such a crazy day: being hungover for the first time, the fight between Jett and Troy, I’d cry as soon as I got on the phone with her.