The First Kiss Hypothesis

by Mandelski, Christina

  He’s quiet. “You know your mother worries.”

  I turn the key. MJ chugs once, then dies. I try again. Nothing.

  “What the fuh—?” I say.

  “Watch the mouth,” he says. “Get your ass home now.”

  I try the key again. “I can’t Dad. I think my truck’s dead.”

  Let’s just say Dad is not thrilled to have to drive all the way to the middle of nowhere to pick me up.

  He slams his car door and strides over to where I’m leaning on MJ’s bumper. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

  That’s what he opens with.

  I feel numb and shrug at him. He doesn’t really want an answer. He looks under the hood (like I already did).

  “This doesn’t look good.”

  Already knew that.

  “Engine’s seized up, I’m guessing.”

  My guess, too.

  “I’ll call a tow,” he says. “Looks to me like it’s DOA.”

  I slam my hand down on the hood, because yeah, I knew MJ was on his last leg, but today? This is the day he dies? It’s like the universe has decided to drop trou and take a giant, cosmic dump on me.

  I grab my duffel bag and a few other things. There isn’t much. I grip the steering wheel. You’ve been a good truck, Michael. The tow truck arrives in record time. Dad talks to the driver, who he knows, because he knows everyone, even out here.

  I get into Dad’s Sentra. It’s new and smells like plastic. No character. He stows my crutches in the backseat and takes off. I recline the seat and don’t say a word.

  After a few minutes, he clears his throat and I wait for the lecture to begin. “What were you doing out here anyway?” he asks. “Have you been to that place before?”

  “Yep. Best pie in Florida.”

  He chuffs. “So you killed your car for pie?”

  I inhale and adjust my knee. It’s killing me. “I know it’s not a good enough reason for you, but that’s the whole story. Not drunk. Not high. Just getting pie. Your loser son just went to get pie.”

  “Okay.” He merges onto the highway and we’re on our way home. “You want to tell me what exactly makes you a ‘loser’?”

  We don’t usually talk about stuff like this, but he asked for it. “What doesn’t?”

  He makes some grumbling noises. “No son of mine is a loser.”

  “Yeah, well, this one is. Can’t get into college. Can’t stay healthy. Women…total loser.”

  “All right, that’s enough,” he says. “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing,” I mumble, eyes trained out the side window.

  He’s quiet for a long time, which is not like him, but I’m not complaining.

  “You listen to me.”

  I spoke too soon. Here we go.

  “First of all, State is a fine place to start.”

  Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this all before. It’s my fault for even bringing it up. Should have kept my mouth shut.

  “In a few years, you’ll transfer,” he continues. “You know you haven’t exactly put in the effort these last few years, so you’ll dig your way out of it. Second, you know you can’t rely on lacrosse, kid. There’s always the potential for injury, but you are going to play in college if it kills me. You’re too good and too young to stop now. And third, I don’t know what woman you’re talking about, specifically, so I’m going to go ahead and venture a guess.”

  “Dad.” Don’t say it.

  “Nora?”

  “No.” I answer way too fast.

  He huffs a breath. “Okay,” he says. “She came over tonight, looking for you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I’m guessing it has something to do with that big white truck that dropped her off today. If you ask me…”

  For the record, I didn’t. Still, it’s great to know the fucking tumbleweed brought her home.

  “…you’ve been friends too long to throw it all away over a broken heart.”

  I can actually feel it, I think, cracking open. “She did not break my heart!” I yell. Like, loud.

  “Okay,” Dad says. “All right.” He wisely says nothing else. I slump against the window and close my eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nora

  Eli texted me last night that he wasn’t coming to school today and I need to find another ride.

  I texted back to ask what was wrong. I still hadn’t had a chance to talk to him, MJ still wasn’t in the driveway, and I was worried. He didn’t answer, which isn’t like him, but I figured his knee was hurting or something. He probably went to bed.

  So now I have to wait until after school to see him. It’s probably best, since I have no idea what I’m going to say. There are no rules for this kind of conversation.

  I hate that. I like rules. No rules scare me. No control terrifies me.

  Abby gives me a ride to school in her cute little blue bug.

  I open the door and slide inside. “Hey, lady,” she says. It doesn’t take her long to get to the point. “So, how was it with Caleb last night? Is it true that everything’s bigger in Texas?” She waggles her eyebrows.

  “You crack yourself up, don’t you?” I say. “For your information, not so good.”

  Her face falls. “No kidding?”

  A flicker of guilt passes through me. I press my lips together, not wanting to talk about this. “He’s really nice. It’s just not going to work out.”

  “What’s wrong with him? He’s hot, smart, totally bone-able. What’s the problem?” She takes a corner fast and the bug squeals. “Sorry. Or is the problem that he’s just not ‘neighborly’ enough? You know what I’m sayin’?”

  She laughs at her joke. For a really long time.

  I wait for her to stop. “Are you done mocking me?”

  “I am not mocking you. I’m just saying, there is not one girl at school who wouldn’t jump at Eli, or jump on Eli, if they got the chance.”

  “Well I haven’t stopped them.”

  She takes another corner too tight.

  “Uh, yeah, you have,” she says.

  “What are you talking about? He dates other girls, and I have dated other guys.”

  “Pfft! So what if he’s hooked up with other girls—and FYI, it’s been a while. You, too, right? Tex was your first date in forever, yes? And don’t give me that ‘but we’re best friends’ bull. There’s something between the two of you. Don’t even try to deny it. You two should get together. I mean, it’s about damn time.”

  I deny everything she says, although inside I hope she’s right. “Okay. Okay,” I say, hoping that she’ll stop talking. I find myself wishing I was in Michael Jordan this morning. It’s way too early for this.

  After the last bell rings, I’m in bio cleaning up after the day’s lab. I’m at the sink and freaking out about what happens next—which is me getting my license. I have the last appointment of the day at the DMV.

  I finally told Mom, last night. Nothing like waiting until the last minute. She was surprised, and not exactly happy, and didn’t like it when I told her I’d been practicing with Eli. She also didn’t say no, and she’ll be picking me up soon.

  “Big plans for the break, Nora?” Mr. Chaffee asks from behind his desk. I turn off the sink and walk toward the front of the room, drying the graduated cylinder in my hand.

  “Getting my license, hopefully,” I say.

  “Oh,” he stammers. “That’s…great.”

  Of course he knows about the accident. This town is way too small.

  I frown. “Don’t worry, I’ve gotten better. I’ve been practicing.”

  “Of course, of course, I’m sure.” He waves off the concern. “Good luck. And thank you for washing those. It’s not going to be the same around here when you graduate.”

  I put the last beaker away. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find another nerd to do your bidding.”

  He nods.
“It’s true, there does always seem to be one waiting in the wings, although I lucked out with you. You are going to be EHS’s biggest success story. Not everyone makes it out of Florida. They get into state schools, yeah. Some good ones, hard to get into. Not Emory, though. That’s rare.” He seems so proud of me.

  I avert my gaze. He’ll be disappointed if he knows I might stay. “I can only go if I get some pretty big scholarships, you know.”

  He sits up. “You turned in the application?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Your mom filled out the FAFSA?”

  “Yeah.”

  He leans back in his chair. “Okay, good. You’ve got excellent academics. Did you apply for work study?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But what?”

  More guilt. I rub my temple. “Nothing.” I don’t have the heart to tell him I’m just not sure about Emory. Whether I can leave Mom and Gigi.

  We went to have dinner with her last week and it was just like when I was there with Eli. She was fine at the beginning, then couldn’t remember who we were by the end. Mom was a wreck.

  Of course, I also don’t know how to leave Eli.

  “I’m not buying that.” He scratches his beard. “What’s the problem?”

  “The problem?” I might as well be honest with him. “Take your pick.” My shoulders slump. “There seems to be an endless supply.”

  “You know,” he says. “I know you’re only eighteen, Nora, and I know you seniors get sick to death of us adults giving you advice about the future, but you and I go way back.” He reclines in his chair and crosses his arms. “Listen to me when I tell you, you can go to State, even UF or FSU, and you’d be fine. I have a feeling you will thrive in Atlanta, though. They’re studying things up there that, God, if I could, I’d go. Everything, or everyone, that might be keeping you here—you’re not leaving them behind. The people who care about you, they’ll be with you every step of the way, cheering you on.” He chuckles. “And hey, you’ll have your license. It’s only a four-hour drive.”

  I grab my backpack and move toward his desk. “I know, it’s just a big decision.”

  He sits up, his eyes kind like a dad’s should be, like I hope my own father’s would be, if I ever saw them. “Most of life’s greatest adventures start with a big decision. You’re a scientist, Ms. Reid. You have great instincts—that’s like having a superpower. Use them, woman!”

  I push my hair behind my ears. “Okay, Mr. C. I will.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  “Good. Godspeed, Nora Reid.”

  “Thanks, you, too.”

  Mom’s waiting for me in front of the school. I walk around to the driver’s side of her car and wait for her to get out. She opens the door slowly, her mouth in a straight line. I can see that her jaw is tensed. I know her angry face. She says nothing.

  I touch her arm gently. “Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this sooner. I just didn’t want you to worry. Trust me, though, I’m ready.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you are.” Her words are clipped. She gets in the other side.

  “Nora?” she says, before I pull away.

  I wait, hoping she doesn’t make this a thing. I know I should have told her, but I have to focus on the test. “Yes?”

  “I thought we told each other everything.”

  I nod and grip the steering wheel. “Yeah—we do. Maybe not everything. The important things, for sure.”

  She crosses her arms and huffs. “Really?”

  “Of course, Mom.” I don’t know what’s going on with her, but she’s making me nervous. She doesn’t say anything else, so I drive. We don’t have to be at the DMV for another hour, and I need to stay calm. I need to concentrate on the road. So I drive the few miles home, come to complete stops at all the stop signs, go no faster than two miles per hour above the speed limit. Put the car in park.

  “See?” I say, smiling. “I’m ready.”

  She shakes her head, her mouth is set in a hard line. “You didn’t tell me that Eli was helping you practice driving. I’m not even sure that was legal. And now…”

  “What?”

  “Nora. I got on your email today.”

  I whirl around, and everything is clear. I know exactly where this is going. “Why?”

  “Not to snoop.” She holds up her hands. “I was looking for the car insurance information Dad sent you, because I need to find out how much that’s all going to cost.”

  I wait for the rest, wishing I could accuse her of invading my privacy, when of course, she didn’t. I’m just pissed off at myself. I should have told her.

  “Nora?” Her voice is shaky. “Why is Emory University emailing you about a scholarship?”

  I swallow hard. Except for my hypothesis, which she would never understand, Mom and I don’t keep secrets. This is big.

  “Did you apply there?”

  My pulse thunders in my ears. I clear my throat. “Yeah, I did, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think I’d get in.”

  She gulps. I see pain in her eyes. “So you’re thinking of going?”

  “No. Well, I can’t if they don’t give me enough money. Even if they do, I don’t know if I will. You need me here.”

  She laughs, only it’s not a happy sound. Without a word she gets out, slams the door, and goes into the house. I follow her into the kitchen where she flings her purse on the table and crosses her arms.

  It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.

  “Mom.” I keep my voice calm. I didn’t think she’d get this mad. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you, I just… I didn’t want to stress you out, and I guess part of it was I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I knew that even if I did get in, and get money, it’s still a huge decision to make. I know you need me.”

  She waves her arms wildly around. “Look at this kitchen!” She isn’t quite yelling, what she’s doing is worse—I think she’s losing it. She walks to the burned-up wall and slaps it with her hand.

  I say nothing; she’s freaking me out.

  I watch as she paces, hands on her hips, then plops into one of the chairs and starts to cry.

  I go straight to her and put my arms around her. With all that she’s done for me, I’m a little shit for even thinking of leaving. “Mom? Please. I won’t go. I’ll stay here. You need me.” I hug her tighter, but she pushes me off of her and stands up.

  A chill runs down my spine. I don’t like this. “Mom?”

  She wipes at her eyes and rubs her temples. “No! That’s the problem. I’m always a mess, and you’re always trying to fix things. Nora, I need to fix things. It’s my job, not yours.”

  I step toward her, and she backs away. “Mom. That makes no sense. You’re not a mess—and we fix things together.”

  “No.” She sniffs. “It does make sense. Look, you got into Emory. That’s one of the top schools for clinical research in the country. I looked it up!”

  “So what? Mom, I can go later. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal?” she shouts. “Not a big deal?” She waves her arms again and then stops and points at me. “You are going to Emory. Even if they don’t give you enough money. I’ll work three jobs if I have to. I’ll put the heat on your father. Don’t you worry about a thing. You’re going to college there.”

  My head hurts trying to follow what she’s saying. “What if I don’t want to?”

  Her forehead wrinkles. “Why wouldn’t you want to go?” Her voice reaches up an octave. “You love science; you’ve always loved science. Think about it, you can follow your passion, honey.”

  I am in shock; I did not see this coming. “I’d be leaving a lot behind,” I say. As if on cue, Marie walks into the room and hops up onto the table. I pick her up and hold her close.

  “No way.” Mom smirks. “You’re not using the cat as a reason not to become a disease-fighting scientist. I can take care of Marie, you know. And Gigi, and whatever else needs t
aking care of. I can handle it.”

  Tears well up in my eyes. “Gigi isn’t getting any better.”

  She deflates. “No. She doesn’t seem to be. Just hear me on this, sweetie, your grandmother would be furious if she found out that you turned down a chance to go to Emory. You know she would, and she’d murder me if I didn’t do everything I could to make it happen.”

  I bite my bottom lip. Her insistence scares me. The whole conversation scares me. “I’m just not sure I want to go.”

  She sits down and gestures for me to do the same. “Why in the world not?”

  I do sit, only on the edge of the chair, not letting myself get comfortable at all. I pet Marie to try and calm down. “I don’t know? This is my home? I’d miss you. I’d miss…other things.”

  She’s quiet, and when I look up, she’s staring a hole in me. “Other things, my dear, can wait. If they’re meant to be.”

  A chill runs through me. Honestly I’m feeling a little violated here. There’s no way she can know how I feel about Eli. Is there?

  A half hour later, I’m driving to the DMV. Mom seems okay now, but I’m a wreck. I’m glad that Emory is out in the open now, but I don’t understand why nothing is ever easy.

  I’m trying to relax, trying not to panic. What if I fail? What if I, holy cow…what if I hit the testing person? What if…

  It takes me a whole ten minutes of “what ifs” to get to the driver’s facility. We check in and wait for our appointment. I pull my hair back into a ponytail so it won’t be a distraction.

  You’re ready, Eli said. Eli, who has disappeared into thin air. I never know if he’s home with Michael Jordan in the repair shop. He isn’t answering texts. I don’t know what’s happening. It’s making me crazy.

  Okay, Reid, stop thinking about him. About anything, and focus on this drive. This one drive. The stranger in the passenger seat coughs twice. Edinburgh is a small town, but I don’t know this guy, even if he probably knows me by reputation. Also, I can smell his bad breath floating in the air. It’s gross.

  He starts the test and tells me what to do. I channel Eli. All you have to do is stay in the lines and not hit the car in front of you. This helps. I parallel park, do a three-point turn, circle the block a few times.