Kiss Me

by Alexandria Bishop

  “Don’t even think about bringing that sentence back around to Anders. I’m not even going there. It’s a non-issue.”

  I slowly nod my head and just drop it for now, but this will not be the last time we have this conversation. It’s not done by a long shot.

  Chapter Six

  Giselle

  My hair whips around my face sticking to my glossy lips as the wind picks up. So much for a nice sunny summer day. I’m usually a lip balm kind of girl, but I left the house kind of quick this morning and grabbed the first thing I saw. Oops. Rather than focus on the yucky mess that is currently my lips I look around the small farmer’s market. There’s shaved ice and honey sticks which remind me of my childhood. When we used to do stuff as a family instead of falling apart.

  The salt in the air overwhelms my senses and I take a giant deep breath recording this moment to memory. Even though I’d rather spend my summer vacations with my friends, I can’t help but love the scent of the coastal air. I wish I could bottle it up and carry it with me wherever I go. Until then I’ll just have to program my brain to recall it. Leaning down I place my empty basket on the ground next to me and I take a juicy berry from the overflowing pile. I can’t help myself as a bring the plump strawberry up to my lips and take a giant bite with juice spraying out the sides of my mouth. The light tartness of the fruit mixed with the sweet juices dance together on my tongue and I know that I’m going to have to buy an entire container of these. I grab one plastic basket of them and put it in my own basket and without a second thought, I reach for another.

  “You know, most places would consider that stealing.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stands on end at the familiarity of his voice. I barely know him but yet my body responds as if I always have. “Yeah, which part are you referring to?”

  “I don’t think you’re allowed to taste the merchandise before you buy it.”

  I can feel the warmth from Anders’ breath on the back of my neck, that’s how close he is. I don’t know what it is about him that makes him so different. I’ve heard of other girls having the butterflies in the stomach feeling when they talk about the boys they like back at school but that’s not something I’ve ever experienced myself. That is until Anders. I flick my tongue out to lick my lips and try to moisten my mouth which has gone dryer than Palm Springs in the summer. Any gloss I had remaining has all but disappeared leaving my lips more chapped than they were when I put it on.

  I turn around with a smile on my face and reply, “I’m pretty sure it’s only stealing if you don’t actually pay for it.”

  “We could sit here and argue all day or,” he grabs a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and hands it to the guy standing behind the table, “I could just pay for the strawberries and we could go enjoy them together.”

  I don’t even know how to respond to that. Part of me is incredibly giddy like a schoolgirl and screaming inside about the fact that he wants to spend time with me. Plus, he paid for my strawberries, I’ve never had anyone besides my parents buy me something. Heck, not even Marek has purchased anything for me in the past. The other part of me is confused and unsure about his motives or where my brother is currently at. Rather than acting on either of those, I decide to feign indifference.

  “Well then, I guess you better lead the way.”

  Being the gentleman that he’s pretending to be as I reach down to pick my basket back up, he motions for my hands to move away and grabs it for me. Internally I swoon but I stamp down my emotions when he turns around and asks, “Well, are you coming with me?”

  My mouth freezes as I’m unsure of how to answer his question and still sound cool at the same time, so I just gently nod my head and I follow him wherever he is taking us. As we’re walking back down the beach, I have so many questions that want to break free of me. Where are we going? How did you find me? Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you? Okay, I probably shouldn’t ask him that last one, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s the one question I’m dying to know the most. Instead, I hold my tongue and don’t say a word, just follow him aimlessly.

  We walk in complete silence for a good ten minutes with nothing but the ocean and seagulls as our music. Normally I get extremely uncomfortable in the silence and always have to fill the emptiness, but right here and now it feels nice. Like we don’t have to force conversation. We can just be in each other’s presence together. We start walking toward a large rock formation and it appears we’ve reached the end of the line. When he doesn’t stop but continues, I almost ask him where he’s going, but then I see it. From far away it looks like a giant rock wall, but there are multiple formations that overlap with a small pathway leading in between two of them. I gasp as we walk right through to a completely secluded almost forgotten beach. Like we’re both in a secret that nobody else knows about and I can’t help but feel giddy that he brought me here.

  Um, what? I pull myself out of my head and look up at Anders’ expectant face. Did he say something?

  With a raised eyebrow he points down at my boobs. Is he fucking with me right now? I shrug my shoulders and glance down to see if one of them popped out…but no they’re both still intact. When I glance back up, he’s still looking at my black razorback tank top and I am completely confused so I ask, “The flamingo?”

  He slowly nods his head and says, “Yeah. I’ve seen you wear stuff with them a lot. So why flamingoes?”

  So that’s what his question was. I smile as I think of the very first time I saw the bright pink bird in person. I was four years old and our father had a rare day off from work. He surprised both Marek and me by announcing that he was taking us to the zoo for the day. I’ve never been an animal person and even at four it didn’t sound like something fun to me, but the moment I saw the flamingoes that all changed. I loved everything about them from their vibrant color to the way they moved so gracefully. From that day forward, I became obsessed with them. No matter where I go if I find one on a cup, t-shirt, or even a stuffed animal, I have to buy it. My entire room is full of them and it’s pretty much guaranteed that for every birthday and Christmas, I’ll get at least one new addition to my collection.

  Rather than bore Anders with the childish story, I just shrug my shoulders and say, “Flamingoes are my favorite animal. I’m not really sure why. I think they’re pretty cute. Plus, how can you not like an animal that is that bright pink?”

  His expression tells me that he doesn’t believe my response and although it seems completely like a conversation change, he simply adds, “I’m sorry about what’s going on with your parents. That sucks.”

  Marek must have told him about everything we talked about on the beach. I don’t blame him one bit. He needed someone to talk it out with and he has that someone in Anders. Me on the other hand? I don’t have a good friend like that. My friends back at school are very surface. We don’t talk about the real and deep stuff. I whisper a quiet thank you to him and we leave it at that.

  “Where are your parents Anders?”

  “You’d think it would be impossible for me to remember. But her favorite song popping up on the radio brings me back to goodnights from the voice of an angel. Passing by a department store perfume counter with even the slightest hint of jasmine pulls be back to the comfort of her arms wrapped around me anytime I hurt myself or just needed a hug.”

  He gets this far off distance look in his eyes and I start to wonder if he even heard me or if he’s even present in this conversation. I open my mouth to ask him my question again when he beats me to it.

  “My mom loved the theater. She started ballet classes when she was three and was classically trained vocalist. She could have been a movie star she was that talented and beautiful, but she gave it all up when she had me. ‘The moment you came into my life all of my dreams finally came true and nothing else mattered. Everything else was just the cherry on top.’ She constantly reminded me how much I meant to her. I was the miracle child who was never supposed
to happen.”

  I can feel his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. Each crack getting deeper with every heavy breath that falls from his lips. I don’t dare to say a word and break whatever is unfolding between us right now. The magnitude of his opening up like this with me is not something I knew would ever happen.

  “Even though she gave up performing, my dad took her to as many plays and operas that he could. My parents were madly in love with each other and my father would do anything and everything for her.”

  His dark blue eyes become an ocean of pain as tears well up threatening to fall over, but he holds them back with each pause and even breath he forces out.

  “When I was six years old, they went one night to see a musical. I got sick and the woman who watched me got worried. She called the theater to get a message to them and they left immediately. Ultimately it didn’t matter. They raced back to a child and a home they would never see again.”

  My sunburnt cheeks sting as my salty tears saturate them. But the pain my chapped skin is feeling is nothing compared to the immense suffering Anders has lived through. I don’t wipe them away but instead, embrace it.

  He doesn’t say anything more as he takes a bite from one of the strawberries. The juice sprays out the side of his lips and his tongue slides out to catch an escaping drop. I become fixated on his tongue. It’s so pink and all I can think is what it would taste like. I half hate myself for thinking about kissing him when he just told me that heartbreaking story and the other half wonders if it would help take away his pain for even five minutes.

  My heart stops as he brings his hand toward my face and tangles it into my hair. Maybe I’m not the only one feeling the intensity at the moment. My eyes close without any thought and I hold my breath waiting for the moment that his lips touch my own. I can smell the strawberries from his mouth and the butterflies in my stomach flap faster than anything I’ve ever experienced before in my life. With the waves crashing in the distance and the sun warming my skin, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect setting for my first kiss. I’ve dreamt of this moment for almost all sixteen years of my life and I’m finally going to know what that feels like.

  I feel like I've been waiting for hours and when nothing happens, I open my eyes. He's looking back at me and I can see the internal battle warring on his face. I know he can feel everything I'm feeling in this moment. But he can't decide whether or not taking a risk would be worth it. If I would be worth it. I want to scream at him. I want to hit him. I want him to stop being a coward and finally take a chance. But I don't do any of that. Instead, I break our gaze at one another and look toward the ocean. If he doesn't want this then I won't waste any more of my energy trying to convince him that it’s a good decision.

  When he doesn't say anything, I'm tempted to turn around and look at him again, but I don't. Instead, I continue looking off into the distance at the invisible something out in the middle of the ocean. I bring my hands down to my sides and I create fists as tight as possible forcing myself not to turn around. My short fingernails sting against my palms and I half wonder if I’ve broken the skin from the intensity of the pain. I try to be here in the moment with the briny wind kissing my face and save for the seagulls flying above us, the calming silence that surrounds us.

  I almost jump out of my skin at the feel of his warm breath against my neck. I want to lean back against his chest and feel the warmth of his body against mine, but I stay stiff and rigid in my spot doing nothing. I know he gets closer when I can feel his breath against my ear. I want to break in two with the simple words that leave his mouth. All it takes is two words that have the power to prevent my happiness. "I'm sorry."

  And that's that. He's made his decision and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. I don’t let him get another word in as I suck in a breath and slowly get up from my seat. I’m instantly colder without his body so close. I take a small step forward and he says my name, but I slowly shake my head and continue walking away from him. He must take my defeat for what it is because I don’t hear another word from him as I continue walking away. I barely get a few steps before the dam breaks free and the tears start falling, but I don’t let them affect me and I keep on my journey away from him.

  Chapter Seven

  Giselle

  The house is quiet. Unnaturally so. I never understood the phrase, “silence is deafening,” before. Logically it never made sense to me. Silence is the absence of noise what could be more peaceful than that. I wish I could go back to ten minutes ago when my naïve brain still thought that way. Before my parents dragged me into the living room. Before they dropped the major bomb on me.

  My fingers grip the end of the charm on my necklace tightly as I slide it back and forth on the chain. With each movement, I accidentally rub my fingers against each other reminding me of the hangnail I have on my middle finger. I wince in pain, but it doesn’t stop my fidgeting.

  When I can’t take the ticking of the clock on the wall behind me being the loudest noise in the room, I finally break the silence. “I don’t even know why we’re here or why you’re both being so dramatic. I already know what’s going on.”

  My parents both look at each other and I really take a look at them. I’ve spent so much of our time here at the coast trying to avoid both of them. Dad’s face is a little sunken in and his skin has an ashy appearance to it. He’s lost at least twenty pounds since the last time I saw him. When was that? The disappearing act has been going on for so long now that I honestly can’t recall the last time we actually spent time together or even had a conversation. And Mom? Well, she doesn’t look much better. From her bloodshot eyes to her grease-stained sweatshirt that has the remnants of last night’s burger and fries that Dad had to practically force feed her with.

  She wrings her fingers and croaks out, “What do you think is going on?”

  I drum my fingers on the arm of the couch and say, “Obviously Dad cheated on you and he’s moving out. I’m not sure why we had to come all the way out here for you to tell us that, but since I’ve done your job for you…can I go now?”

  My brother has been silent sitting next to me on the couch this entire time. He squeezes my hand and says, “Just tell us what’s going on. If Giselle is right, then we have the right to know our family is breaking apart.”

  “I never cheated on your mother. I love her and would never do something like that to her ever. But we have been keeping something from you. The end of last summer I was diagnosed with cancer.”

  Anything he says after the C-word doesn’t even register. Cancer? How could he have been diagnosed with cancer almost a year ago? My breathing slows down and my heart rate echoes in my head. “How could you?”

  Mom’s head whips back at my accusatory tone and she says, “Giselle, baby girl, we love you. Never ever question the love that your father and I have for you. That is the main reason why we didn’t tell you what’s been going on the past year.”

  The fact that it feels like there is something big going on that I don’t know about seems to escalate even further as my mom just talks in circles without even telling me anything.

  “So, you’re saying because I added Converse, black eyeliner to my wardrobe, and changed my taste in music, I’m suddenly fragile and can’t handle knowing that my father almost died? Is that the gist of it?”

  Tears fall down my mom’s face as she chokes on her words. She closes her eyes as she composes herself and says, “You are always so angry. We didn’t know if you could take it.”

  “Let me think about that. You were both lying to me, of course, I was angry. Without having any idea of what was actually going on, I had to make up my own stories. Dad, I assumed you were cheating on mom and that’s why you were always gone, and she spent so much time curled up in her bed. I’m sorry for my language but you both really fucked up.”

  My blood is boiling and my fists clench and unclench at my sides. I want to scream and never stop. Until my head spins and I pass out from the la
ck of oxygen. I want to go back and not enter this room and know the truth.

  “Giselle—”

  Dad reaches over and puts his hand down on Mom’s shoulder, stopping whatever excuse was about to spill from her mouth. “No, Kathleen, she’s right. We seriously screwed up.”

  I know I’m right, but I didn’t expect my parents to agree with me on that. Or at least for my dad to agree.

  My eyes drift to the medium size porcelain elephant statue sitting on the glass end table. It smiles up at me with a giant stripped ball balancing on its trunk. It reminds me of happier days in our lives when there were no secrets or lies between us. Like that summer when I was five years old and we all went to the circus. Simpler times. Happier times. Not the giant crazy messed up shit storm we currently find ourselves in. I want to scream. I want to pull my hair out. I want to hit somebody. But I don’t do any of that. I can hear my mom saying something to me, but I can’t process the words that are coming out of her mouth over the ringing in my ears. Instead, I smile as I continue focusing on that statue. As it mocks me in my current predicament.

  All of the conversations around me halt as I stand up from my place on the couch and I take a step toward the table. Everything around me slips away as it’s just me and the trinket.

  I don’t know what compels me to do it. One minute I’m standing there focusing on the African animal and the next the entire room echoes with the shatters of the glass against the wall. There’s a scream radiating throughout the room and I assume it’s coming from my mother, but at this point, it could be coming from me and I don’t even know it. I’ve never experienced an out of body experience before…until right now. I no longer feel attached to my body and it’s almost as if I’m watching everything happen to somebody else who isn’t me. Like it’s just another teen drama rolling on the screen in front of me. I’m so detached that I could lift up out of my body and float away like a feather to anywhere.