Copyright © 2013 by Brittany Geragotelis
ISBN: 1493633805
ISBN 13: 9781493633807
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976 the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
First Edition: November 2013
The characters and events portrayed in this book are ficticious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. To the extent that any real names of individuals, locations, or organizations are included in the book, they are used fictitiously and not intended to be taken otherwise.
To my husband, Matt, my favorite kissing partner.
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Acknowledgements
THE FIRST DAY of my freshman year of high school started out the same as every other year.
New clothes. Check.
Different faces. Yep.
And once again—completely kiss-free.
“I’m serious, Arielle, it took me practically an hour this morning just to pick out the perfect outfit,” said McCartney. “I mean, what you wear on your first day pretty much sets the standard for the rest of the year, you know?”
My friends, McCartney Janning, Phineas Haywood and I walked toward the front doors of Ronald Henry High School trying hard not to act like it was our first time doing so. As McCartney went on about her new threads, I glanced down at my own outfit. It’d taken me all of five minutes to decide on a pair of dark denim jeans, and a black tank top underneath a cropped-top featuring the words “Who is A?” on it. Not exactly double-take-worthy, but it would guarantee that I’d blend in with the crowd. And blending in meant not being singled out as a lame, newbie freshman.
Along with the non-flashy outfit, I’d smoothed my long, red hair back into a low ponytail and dusted my eyelids with a soft green shadow that perfectly complimented my eyes. And even though I was wearing two-inch heels, I still barely hit 5’3”. Taking some clear lipgloss out of my pocket, I reapplied the shiny stuff to my lips just like Teen Vogue had suggested in the issue I’d read the night before.
“So, after about twenty different outfits, I ended up going with the first one I tried on,” McCartney finished, taking her first breath since she’d began talking.
“And that’s what you decided on?” Phin asked, snorting loudly. He examined McCartney’s mini skirt, white top, black tie and bright pink satin jacket with mock horror.
“Hey, now. Don’t knock the outfit,” McCartney said, stopping briefly to glare at Phin. “Don’t even get me started on your fashion choices.”
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” Phin asked, gesturing to his choice of skinny jeans and a plain black tee.
I knew they were mostly joking with each other, but being that I had no desire to start the year off with an argument, I decided it was time to break it up.
“Okay, okay. Back to your corners,” I said, laughing at them. “You both look great. Like you belong here.”
“Yeah we do!” Phin said, putting his hand up for a high five. When neither of us reciprocated, he let his arm fall to his side weakly.
I shook my head and smiled. Boys could be so incredibly clueless sometimes.
Once we reached the front door, the three of us stopped in our tracks, ignoring the fact that others would have to swerve around us to get by. One by one we reluctantly looked up at the words chiseled onto the building above the doorframe. “Education prepares you for real life.”
What’s more real than high school? Seriously.
“We ready to do this?” I asked.
Phin and McCartney didn’t respond, but both took a step through the doors and into the hallway. With a silent prayer, I joined them and we began to move as a group past the lockers that lined the walls, and further into school.
As we walked, I tried to survey the scene without appearing too much like a nerdy tourist. But as I glanced around, my mouth dropped open slightly from what I saw.
Everywhere I looked, there were couples. Some were holding hands, others were leaning up against each other, seemingly attached at the hip. But more than that, there was kissing. A couple at my right was practically all over each other. As they made out, the girl tangled her fingers up in the guy’s hair and he stuck his hands deep into her back pockets.
Must be some pretty tasty lipgloss.
I made a face and then turned back to McCartney and Phin.
“Are you guys seeing what I’m seeing?” I asked hissed at them.
Phin pulled his messenger bag off his shoulder as he read off the numbers on the lockers for his own. When he found it, he punched in the code to the electronic lock and placed his stuff inside.
“What? New school, same boring classes?” he asked, staring into the metal container like it was a Rubik’s Cube.
“Yes, but no,” I answered. “Look around! Everyone’s making out. I feel like I’m in the basement of some suck-fest!”
“And how would you know?” McCartney asked, raising her eyebrows at my comment.
“Ha, ha,” I said.
“She’s got a point, Arielle,” Phin said, slamming his locker door shut and leaning against it. He surveyed the couples around us. “I hate to say it, but maybe the reason all of this is bothering you is simply because you’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“Uh—nooo!”
Okay, so I was a little quick to deny this fact, but it didn’t mean Phin was right. Right?
“I just think that all this PDA is a little gross,” I continued. “I mean, seriously! Get a room, people.” I turned on my heels, only to run right into another couple who’d been swapping spit behind me.
I looked back at my friends and pointed at the couple. “See what I mean?”
I stalked off, taking my time so that Phin and McCartney could catch up with me.
“You know, Arielle,” McCartney said seriously. “You may be the only person left in our class to be a lip virgin.”
“That’s not true,” I said dismissively.
Right?
I looked around. “What about Arnold Becker?”
We all examined Arnold thoughtfully. He was currently standing at his locker, talking to himself and pressing his hair down into place with his own spit. No way this guy was getting anyone to kiss him.
“Arnold’s been hooking up with this girl at chess camp for the past few summers,” Phin said, still staring at the guy.
“How do you even know that?” McCartney asked.
Phin just shrugged.
Finding out that Arnold had somehow managed to snag smooches from some chess chick, and I was still—as McCar
tney so bluntly put it—a “Lip virgin,” made me want to throw up. My eyes widened as realization hit. “I’m the last one in our class to kiss someone,” I said slowly as I let the words escape my lips.
“Please don’t freak out,” McCartney said, looking at me concerned. “Phin and I will come up with a plan.”
“We will?” Phin asked.
“We Will,” McCartney answered and then added, “Arielle, girlfriend, this is going to be your year. The year you get your first kiss.”
“Better start puckering,” Phin said with a smile.
“Oh, goody,” I said under my breath as I walked into my first class.
“I can’t believe we already have homework!” I whined as we stumbled through my front door after school.
McCartney and I collapsed onto the oversized living room couch. We lay across the cushions, our heads meeting side-by-side in the middle and allowing our legs to drape over the sides. Phin fell back into the corner of the room and onto a big pile of pillows.
“I know! I’ve got math, science and a three-page paper on what I did this summer,” McCartney complained. “And somehow I don’t think that telling Mr. Simmons about my summer fling is going to fly.”
“Speaking of work and flings,” Phin said, resting his arms comfortably behind his head. “We still need to come up with a plan for project GAAK.”
“Gaak?” I asked, confused.
“You know, G-A-A-K,” Phin said. I continued to stare at him blankly, until he rolled his eyes. “Project Get Arielle a Kiss. Hello?!”
“Good call,” McCartney said, nodding.
I sat up and looked from McCartney to Phin. “I didn’t think you guys were actually serious about that.”
“Are you kidding?” McCartney asked. “Girl, it’s about time someone ventured to where no other man has been before—your lips.”
“There just hasn’t been a good opportunity yet,” I said, lying back down on the couch. “Or anyone worth kissing.”
“That’s so not true!” McCartney said. “You’ve had crushes on plenty of guys at school and you were asked out, like, ten times last year.”
Darn McCartney and her freakishly good memory.
“Yeah, but not by anyone I actually Wanted to hang out with,” I answered. “It’s bad enough I get so nervous around guys that I want to hurl, but why go through that for someone I don’t even like?”
“For free food and a movie?” McCartney asked.
“To get some cuddle time?” Phin chimed in.
“I don’t know,” I said skeptically and shook my head. Even with the prospect of free food or the potential for some good, clean, PG-13 fun, I wasn’t exactly sure dating just anyone that asked me out was worth it.
“What don’t you know?” my mom asked as she entered the room.
“Nothing,” I said quickly.
McCartney sat up on the couch and settled back into the cushions. “We’re starting a special project to help Arielle get her first kiss, Mrs. Sawyer,” McCartney piped up.
“Arielle!” Mom exclaimed. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?!”
I glared at McCartney, who shrugged her shoulders. I’d been hoping the parental unit wouldn’t find out about this particular Arielle fun fact until after it was a story that we could all “Laugh about later…”
“Arielle, you know that kissing and dating is all a part of growing up,” Mom said, in her best counselor’s voice. She sat down on the ottoman in front of me, placed her hands together and rested her chin on her fingertips. Great. Looks like the doctor is officially in. “It’s healthy to be curious at your age, honey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ugh. Please. Stop. Talking.
“Mom!” I finally exclaimed, exasperated and embarrassed. “I’ve asked you not to treat me like one of your patients—especially in front of my friends.” I said the last part practically through my teeth.
See, my mom is a pretty famous marriage counselor and sometimes she has a problem turning off her role of “professional” and just playing the role of “parent” when she’s at home.
“Sorry, sweetie, but I just want you to feel comfortable with your sexuality,” she continued.
“Ew, ew, ew, ew,” I said, placing my hands over my ears, and squeezing my eyes shut, in an attempt to drown out what she was saying.
Weren’t there laws against kids and using cruel and unusual punishment?
My mom stopped talking and stared at me. Standing up, she threw her arms in the air, giving up. “Fine, Arielle,” she said as she walked over to the computer that was set up in the corner of the room. “But you know you can always talk to me about stuff like this.”
“I know, Mom,” I said, relieved she was leaving the topic alone. “I just don’t really want to, you know?”
Mom took one last look at me and then began to type away on her keyboard. I turned my attention back to my friends.
“Thanks a lot,” I whispered to McCartney.
“We still need to come up with a plan,” Phin said.
“Hmmm…we could always just start setting her up with people,” McCartney offered. “She’s bound to find someone to kiss.”
“She could join the school play. They’re doing a kissing scene this year,” Phin said thoughtfully.
“Oooh, we could organize a kissing booth to raise money for the band or something,” McCartney said. “Then, you’d get more than just one kiss.”
These were my choices? I stared at my friends with a nauseated look on my face.
“It would be good practice. You know, to have to kiss people over and over and over again,” Phin agreed.
So not impressed, guys.
“Uh, no. But thanks for trying,” I said, shaking my head and covering my face with my hands.
“Yes!” Mom shouted out all of a sudden. “An autographed copy of my book just sold on eBay for forty dollars!”
“You’re selling your books on eBay now?” I asked, thankful for the distraction.
“They go for a lot more if I sign them first,” she explained, still looking at the computer screen.
That’s when I noticed that the room had gone quiet around me.
I glanced over at McCartney and Phin slowly, and saw they were both staring at each other with their eyes open wide.
“Are you thinking…,” McCartney started.
“…What I’m thinking?” Phin finished.
I knew it wasn’t a good sign when they started finishing each others’ sentences. It was like having an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other, and both were whispering into my ear. Except that they were both more like devils.
“What? What just happened?” I asked and looked from one to the other.
McCartney and Phin scrambled to get up and then grabbed my arms and pulled me toward the stairs and up to my bedroom. When we were in the safety of my room, they plopped me down on my bed and stood there smiling at me.
“What?” I asked, completely confused.
“We have the perfect G.A.A.K. Plan,” McCartney said.
“We’ll have you kissing someone in no time,” Phin added.
“Do I even want to know?” I asked carefully. Neither of them answered, but both wore matching smiles on their faces.
That’s a negative, ghostwriter.
ALL I COULD think after McCartney and Phin told me their genius plan, was that they’d either smoked something or that they’d gone completely insane. And not the cute Britney-Spears-letting-her-infant-son-drive-her-car crazy, but the Michael-Jackson-dangling-his-baby-out-a-window or Tom-Cruise-jumping-all-over-Oprah’s-couch-like-a-maniac crazy.
“You guys are seriously considering this?” I asked as they turned on my computer and sat side by side in front of it.
“It’s perfect!” McCartney said, turning around to look at me. “We are going to sell your first kiss on eBay.”
EBay, Schmebay. This was my so-called love life we were talking about here. And their answer was to hand it off to the
highest bidder? As if there was enough money in the world for that. And besides, there’s no way that I’d sunk that low yet.
Had I?
“EBay exists so people can sell Items, not people,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Or their kisses.”
“I heard that one guy tried to sell his mother-in-law on eBay, just because she bugged the hell outta him,” Phin offered, tapping away at the keyboard.
Now they were lumping me in the same category as annoying in-laws. I tried to burn the backs of their heads with my best death ray stare, but neither of them even flinched. I sighed, giving up on punishing them for the time being.
On the bright side, I could always sell McCartney and Phin on eBay and buy a new set of friends if this whole G.A.A.K. Thing went terribly wrong. I quickly snapped out of my brief daydream and realized I was still in the land of loony.
“You guys, no one’s going to want to bid on my first kiss,” I said. “If I can’t get anyone to do it for free, why would anyone pay to kiss me?”
“It’s the intrigue of the whole thing,” McCartney answered. “Now, are you in or out?”
I took a minute to think about how potentially embarrassing their plan could be. If people at school found out, it would be like social suicide. And I sort of had the desire to get out of high school alive.
“Don’t you have to be at least 18 to post something?” I asked, looking for a way out.
“She’s right,” Phin said, looking at the screen.
“So, we’ll get an adult to sign off on it,” McCartney said. She stood up and walked out of the room. Phin and I looked at each other, as McCartney disappeared. This was not good.
A few minutes later, McCartney was back and my mom was standing in the middle of my room alongside her.
“Mrs. Sawyer, we would like permission to sell Arielle’s first kiss on eBay,” McCartney said. “But we need someone over 18 to say It’s okay.”
“You want to sell her kiss on eBay?” my mom asked slowly.
“Well, you know, it’s about time she kissed someone already—you said that yourself,” McCartney said. “We’re just trying to help her along. Give her a wider selection to choose from.”
“Plus, it’d be an experience she’d never forget,” Phin added.
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