Kiss & Sell

by Brittany Geragotelis

  My fear melted away as I stared at his outstretched palm.

  A boy was offering his hand to me. Dan stevenson wanted to hold my hand! Take it, you doofus, I screamed inwardly as I continued to look at it.

  I felt myself blush and wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt discreetly, before placing my hand in his.

  I’d expected his hand to be rough like my grandfather’s had always been, but it was soft and warm. I felt my heart begin to beat faster as Dan pulled our entwined hands back toward him and rested them on his thigh.

  I ended up missing the first ten minutes of the movie, because I was still staring at our hands resting on Dan’s leg. I was trying to memorize everything about the moment, so I could relay every last detail back to McCartney when she asked me about it later.

  It wasn’t until everyone around me screamed as the music in the movie hit its dramatic loud pitch to indicate something scary had just happened, that I remembered we were even in a theater. Watching a scary movie. Even though I hadn’t been paying attention, I jumped anyway, involuntarily moving closer toward Dan.

  “Damn, girl. You’ve got a grip on you,” Dan whispered through the dark.

  I realized I’d been squeezing his hand so tightly that my knuckles were practically white. Embarrassed, I loosened my fingers and apologized.

  “No worries,” he said. “Like I said, I don’t mind if you grab onto me. I mean, if you’re scared and all.” He added this part almost as an afterthought and turned his attention back to the screen.

  Was that an invitation? Because if it was, I was definitely ready to rsVP yes. I bit my lip and stole a glance at Dan as he stared at the screen.

  I tried to pay attention to what was happening in the movie after that, closing my eyes whenever I thought something was going to pop out, or somebody was going to get killed off. Suddenly, before I could realize what was happening, I was screaming at the top of my lungs and burying my face into Dan’s shoulder.

  I heard his faint laughter and then felt his breath in my hair, which had covered my ear as I’d turned around.

  “So, you want to get right to it, do you?” he whispered. “I could tell you wanted me.”

  Huh?

  “Huh?” I asked, pulling myself away from him.

  “I knew I’d be your first,” he answered.

  “My first What?” I asked confused, beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable.

  “Come on, Arielle,” he whispered, pulling me back toward him. “You know. Your first kiss.”

  “What?!” I shrieked, right at the same time the audience jumped at another scary part in the movie.

  “Hey, chill. it’s cool. I’m up for the challenge,” Dan said, laughing nervously at my reaction.

  My mind whirled as I processed what Dan was saying. As the truth began to dawn on me, I stumbled up out of my seat and raced for the double doors at the top of the theater. I didn’t bother to look behind me, but I knew that Dan was on my heels.

  When I’d made it halfway through the lobby, I turned to face him.

  “What Was that?” I hissed at him.

  “You know what it was about, Arielle,” Dan said, placing one of his hands into his back pocket and smirking.

  “No, I really don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?” I said.

  “You’re looking to get kissed. I’m looking to get kissed,” Dan said, his voice sounding innocent. “I figured it’s a win-win situation.”

  “Is that why you asked me out?” I asked, a lump forming in my throat. “Because you thought I’d make out with you?”

  “Well, not the only reason,” Dan said sheepishly. “I mean, my friends and I thought it would be pretty cool to be the first one to kiss you, but…”

  “Seriously?” I exclaimed, my voice growing louder. The anger I was suddenly feeling seemed to erupt out of nowhere. I was about to explode and I couldn’t care less that the debris was about to hit one of the hottest guys in school. “Seriously? you brought me to some crappy slasher flick because you thought you’d bag the poor girl who’s never been kissed?”

  “Look, let’s just go back into the movie,” Dan said quietly, noticing that people in the lobby were starting to stare at us.

  “Uh, uh,” I said, shaking my head. “Why don’t you go back in there and find some other skank to fulfill your make out needs, because you are so not worth my time.”

  I turned my back on him and started to stalk off in the direction of the entrance. A few feet later, I swirled around and looked straight at Dan and cocked my head to the side with an attitude I didn’t know I had.

  “And just so you know,” I said, “You’re so not worth my kiss either!”

  People around me began to clap and I heard a woman say, “Tell him, girl!” as I continued to walk away.

  Pushing open the door, I wandered off into the dark night, already reaching for my cell phone.

  “THAT TOOL-BAG!” MCCARTNEY exclaimed, as I relayed all of the sordid details from my disaster date. We’d barely even stepped onto campus before I’d begun telling them all about it. Starting from the moment I’d opened the door and saw Dan standing there, straight through to the point when I’d called my mom to pick me up a couple of blocks away from the theater.

  “Yep, pretty much,” I nodded.

  By the time I’d gotten home, I was practically shaking, I was so angry. After putting on my big, red, padded boxing gloves and punching the bag that was hanging up in the corner of my room for a half hour, I finally started to feel a little less homicidal. Not only was the punching bag a good workout, but it was one of my favorite ways to de-stress. And picturing Dan’s face as I took each swing was a great motivator. It was a win-win situation.

  “Wait,” Phin said, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. “He took you to the movies and just expected you to fall all over him? Even I know that you have to work a little for it.”

  McCartney and I looked over at him and made faces.

  “Please! Not the evil death stare!” He said, shielding his eyes. “All I meant is that it doesn’t matter if you’re Dan Stevenson or Orlando Bloom…you still have to put some effort into a date if you think you’re going to be able to make a connection thagt will end in a kiss.”

  “Nice save,” McCartney said, sarcastically. Then she turned back to me. “And really? A horror film? That’s about the most unoriginal idea for a date. They’re all about some girl, running through the woods, half-naked. Then, she trips and falls over some imaginary branch or tree trunk or heck, maybe even over her own clumsy feet. And as the killer gets closer, she doesn’t even bother to get up. Really, if you trip while running half-naked through the woods and don’t get up, I’m sorry, but you deserve to be chopped to bits.”

  I laughed despite myself, as she vented. I’d heard this same complaint from her many times before, and didn’t miss the irony in the fact that McCartney rarely missed a scary movie—no matter how awful or clichéd it was.

  “I think you’re missing the point of my story,” I finally said. “The bottom line is: Dan only asked me out because he thought it would be cool to be the first one to bag me. Like, he’d win some prize or something for getting to me first.”

  “Well, he kind of would have,” Phin said. Holding up his hands in surrender before we could glare at him again, he added, “I heard the radio spot with DJ Dave last night. You’re becoming quite the local celeb. He may be high school popular, but being your first could’ve made him real-world popular.”

  “That’s lame,” I said.

  “But it’s also sort of true,” McCartney said sympathetically. “Sorry, girlie, but some guys are only into what will help their reps, and right now you’re the hottest thing at RHHS.”

  “Even I didn’t think it would get this big,” Phin admitted. “I looked up your listing last night and you’re up to $175.”

  I was so shocked, I almost choked on my own spit, and then broke out into a coughing fit.

  “What?!” I exclaimed whe
n I’d regained control over my breathing and could talk again. “Someone wants to pay $175 to kiss me?”

  “Yes, siree,” Phin said, kicking at a rock and watching it skip over the concrete. “A hundred and seventy five smackaroos.”

  “It’s gotta be a nerd,” I concluded, shaking my head. I turned to McCartney. “I mean, only someone as desperate as me would pay someone else that much money to kiss them, right? I saw Love Don’t Cost a Thing. I know how these things work.”

  “Can’t Buy Me Love was so much better. Hello?! Have you seen Patrick Dempsey, a.k.a., Dr. McDreamy?” McCartney said, swooning. “And if I remember correctly, didn’t the nerdy one end up with the dreamboat in the end?”

  “Yeah, yeah, but this isn’t a movie,” I said. “Things tend to be a little more…crappy when it comes to real life.”

  “Way to keep it positive, red,” Phin said as we approached the school doors. “You’ve only got a few more weeks until that kiss is yours. And then all this drama will be over. We’ll probably laugh over this whole situation.”

  Yeah, right. It will be hil-arious!

  I pushed open the doors to the school and walked down the hallway toward my locker. I thought that after a week of everyone knowing about the eBay thing people would start to talk about something else. But everywhere I looked, I could see kids staring and whispering to each other.

  “I so can’t deal with this crap anymore,” I said in a low voice as we walked past a group of three girls who were all chatting in hushed tones and glancing our way. I may not have had any proof that they were talking about me, but somehow I knew it was true. McCartney took a look at me and then followed my gaze over to the gossip girls.

  “I’ll take care of this,” she said forcefully and walked right up to the group. “Hi, girls! Whatcha talking about?”

  The blondest in the group gave McCartney a blank look and then put a fake smile on her face. “Nothing important,” the girl stammered. “I mean, nothing at all, really.”

  “Well, I’d really like to hear what’s got you guys buzzin’ this morning,” McCartney said putting on a sweet, southern accent to mimic the other girl.

  The blond looked at her friends and then down at her shoes. Then she muttered something that I could barely make out. I found myself leaning forward, straining to hear what she was saying. Not that I was eager to confirm my suspicions or anything.

  “I’m sorry, could you say that a little louder?” McCartney asked, her smile fading. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

  It was like she had ESP and could read my mind.

  “We were just talking about how wrong it was that Dan’s going around bragging to everyone that he was arielle’s first kiss,” the girl answered quietly. Then, she looked sheepishly at me obviously nervous to be put on the spot. “Nobody likes someone who kisses and tells, right?”

  The girl held up her arms and shrugged. I just turned away and stared at the wall, both shocked and embarrassed by the news.

  “That’s right,” McCartney said, inching closer to the girl. “And I’d be careful about spreading rumors, especially when they’re not even true.”

  “Oh, of course not, McCartney,” the girl said trying to back away from us. “We weren’t going to say anything to anyone else.”

  “I didn’t think so,” McCartney said, threateningly

  We watched as the group of girls scuttled away, whispering again and glancing back over their shoulders at us before disappearing out of sight. I swear, as girls, we were our own worst enemies sometimes.

  “So, Dan’s telling everyone you two kissed,” McCartney said.

  “I heard. But he can’t…we didn’t,” I said, at a loss for words. Then I confided in a whisper, “We only held hands.”

  “We know that, but as far as anyone else knows, that kiss we’ve been advertising is already gone,” Phin said.

  “We’ll work this out,” McCartney said. “Just meet me out here at lunch. I promise, we’ll have your rep intact by the end of the day.”

  “Wouldn’t it just be easier to let the rumor go?” I asked, my shoulders slumping a little. “Maybe even let the whole thing go?”

  “No way! then, he’d get all the glory when he didn’t even earn it. And you’d still never have experienced your first kiss,” McCartney said. “Besides, this guy’s a creep. It’s about time everyone else knew it too.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I said, still not feeling any better. In fact, the sinking feeling in my stomach took another dive.

  “Hang in there, hon,” McCartney said. “Trust me on this?”

  I forced a smile and then rushed off to class as the warning bell rang.

  Three and a half hours, and two soul-sucking classes later, I was standing next to my locker in the hallway waiting for McCartney so we could eat lunch together. Phin had already come and gone, explaining that his stomach was “practically eating itself,” and that he promised to save us seats in the cafeteria.

  Looking from one side of the hallway to the other, I willed McCartney to appear so I didn’t have to keep standing around by myself like a total loser. Feeling a bit restless, I started biting my fingernails while I examined my feet nervously.

  “That’s a nasty habit,” McCartney said as she walked up behind me, hooking her arm in mine. Then we began to walk toward the noisy cafeteria together.

  “I was standing there by myself forever,” I said, frowning. “Where were you?”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” McCartney answered with a devilish grin. “Besides, I figured Phin would be around.”

  “He was hungry.”

  “Want me to side kick that boy for ditching you?” McCartney asked.

  “You can side kick yourself for making me wait for you,” I said. “But seriously, what have you been up to? You’ve got that !‘You can’t see my devil horns, but they’re there’ look.”

  “Who? Me?” McCartney asked, feigning innocence. When I raised my eyebrows at her, she added, “You’ll see soon enough.”

  “Should I be scared?”

  “Have I ever let you down?” McCartney asked as we walked into the lunchroom. She paused mid-step. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

  We stared around the room, trying to locate Phin. Instead, my eyes fell on Dan and the group of guys that were lounging around his table. They were talking in low voices and laughing. Every once in a while, one of the guys would slap Dan on the shoulder or give him a high five.

  I suddenly got the urge to turn around and spend my lunch hour in the bathroom near the band room, but McCartney gripped my arm even tighter to make sure I stayed put. I could tell that she’d also seen Dan and his buddies.

  Then McCartney started to pull me toward their table, even as I tried to get out of her tight grip.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I do not want to go over there!”

  McCartney ignored me and didn’t stop until the two of us were standing right behind Dan. My cheeks began to burn red and I looked around helplessly trying to find the nearest exit.

  “Daaaannn,” McCartney said, in a sing-songy voice. “Heard you had a wild time Friday night.”

  “Yeah…” Dan answered automatically as he turned around. He stopped talking once he saw us standing behind him.

  A few of the guys snickered and stared at us as if we were novelty gifts.

  “Why don’t you tell us about it?” McCartney asked, smoothly. “And don’t leave out a single, juicy detail.”

  I thought he was going to break, admit he’d lied and maybe even apologize, but it didn’t happen. Instead, he recovered quickly and let his mouth slide into his signature smile. “Well, a gentleman never tells,” He said, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

  “You know, that’s what I’ve heard,” McCartney said sweetly, a sparkle in her eyes. Leaning in to whisper the next part to the table, she added, “I’ve also heard you’re not exactly a gentleman.”
>
  “Oh, really, McCartney? So what am I then?” Dan asked, chuckling and looking at the guys around him like this was the most ridiculous thing ever.

  “Actually, I’ve heard that you’re kind of the opposite,” McCartney said, still smiling. “You know. The kind of guy who gets no action, but tells everyone that he did. Kind of makes you wonder how many other things you’ve lied about. Are you sure you’re not the one with no experience?”

  I looked around us and noticed that the whole caf had stopped eating and was hanging onto every word. I swallowed thickly as I turned my attention back to McCartney and the guys.

  Dan’s smile drooped into a frown as he noticed we had an audience too. “Why would I have to make something like that up?” He asked, his seat hitting the floor again. “She’s the one who’s all obsessed with kissing.”

  “It must have really freaked you out to have to make up a rumor like that, huh?” McCartney asked, pushing him even farther. “I mean, how often does Dan stevenson get Turned down? Was Friday night the first time, or have there been other girls who’ve realized what a tool you are?”

  “Oh. I get it now. Don’t worry, Janning, there’s enough of me to go around,” Dan said, tilting back in his chair again.

  “You really should consider thinking a little less of yourself, Danny-boy,” McCartney said, not missing a beat. “Besides, I just read an interesting e-mail that pretty much proves there are plenty of girls out there who are on to the jerk-wad you really are.”

  McCartney looked at me triumphantly, then back at the table of guys.

  “Toodles,” McCartney said, waving her fingers at them.

  As we began to walk away, a familiar tune started up behind us.

  “Sha, la, la, la, la, la…go on and kiss the girl,” Dan sang softly. I stopped in my tracks and listened as Dan’s friends joined in by humming the tune. Finally the guys erupted into laughter behind us, slapping high fives and patting each other encouragingly.

  “Oh, real original guys. What, because my name’s arielle and I have red hair? Clever. Like I’ve never heard That one before. You guys are so lame,” I said, growing annoyed.