The Kissing Booth

by Beth Reekles

  I paid for the dress and we made another stop by the food court so he could get a slice of pizza before we left. I just had a milkshake.

  ‘Don’t spill that in my baby,’ he warned when I was slurping it as I got into his car.

  ‘Of course I won’t!’ I nearly did, though, and, seeing his threatening look, I didn’t dare take another sip till we hit a red light.

  As Lee pulled up in his driveway, I checked the time. ‘Almost six . . . I’d better head home and get ready,’ I said.

  ‘You can be such a girl sometimes, Shelly.’

  I laughed. ‘Are you only just noticing?’

  Lee laughed and headed inside. ‘See you later,’ he called over his shoulder.

  ‘Bye!’

  Nobody was home when I got in, but I wasn’t that surprised. My younger brother, Brad, had a soccer tournament today and Dad had probably taken him out for burgers or something after.

  I put my iPod into my speakers and let Ke$ha blast out loudly, so that I’d hear it from the shower with the water roaring in my ears.

  When I stood in my towel, scrutinizing the dress, doubts about it started creeping into my mind. I’d grown up with Lee, and without a mom, so I wasn’t the biggest girly-girl; but that didn’t stop me from dressing up for things like this. I shook my head and berated myself. The dress was way longer than some of the girls’ school skirts, for Pete’s sake. It was fine.

  So I sat at my dresser, make-up in front of me, my curling iron heating up. I carefully blended foundation over my skin, and perfected my eyeliner to make my brown eyes pop. I took my time to make sure my hair, shiny and coconut-scented after my shower, was cascading down my back in perfect coal-black ringlets.

  I felt more than a little self-conscious when I looked at myself in the dress – along with a pair of black wedges with two-inch heels. I knew there would be girls who had their make-up way over the top, dresses way shorter than mine, and heels much higher than mine. But I wavered, wondering if I really did look okay.

  But by then it was suddenly thirteen minutes past eight. Where had my two hours gone?

  I tore my phone out of its charger, seeing a text from Lee asking where I was.

  I walked cautiously around to his house. My heels weren’t high, but I always felt more comfortable in flats.

  There were people milling around the yard, and the front door was open, letting the bass spill out; it made the grass tremble. I smiled and greeted people on my way through to the kitchen to get myself a drink.

  I was looking through the refrigerator, unsurprised that they’d moved all the food out to make space for the drinks people had brought. Lee and Noah tended to do that, after some kids thought it’d be funny to stick slices of ham and turkey to the walls with condiments a few months back.

  I grabbed a bottle of orange soda and cracked it open on the kitchen worktop, a trick Lee’s dad had shown me.

  ‘Hey, Elle!’

  I turned and saw a group of girls waving me over. I smiled to them.

  ‘Hi, guys.’

  ‘Olivia said you and Lee are doing a kissing booth for the carnival,’ said Georgia. ‘That’s so cool!’

  ‘Thanks.’ I grinned.

  ‘Nobody’s done one of those for years,’ said Faith. ‘It’s such an awesome idea!’

  ‘Well, we are pretty awesome people.’

  They laughed. ‘I will most definitely be stopping by that booth,’ Candice said with a sly smile. ‘I heard Jon Fletcher’s doing it.’

  ‘And Dave Peterson,’ Georgia added.

  ‘Jon’s doing it?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s what Dave said.’ Candice shrugged.

  Faith laughed. ‘It’s your booth, Elle – you should know.’

  I smiled sheepishly. ‘Yeah, well . . .’

  ‘Hey, you know who you should’ve got to do it?’ Olivia told me. ‘Flynn.’

  For a brief moment I wondered who the hell she was talking about. Then I realized she meant Noah, of course.

  ‘I don’t think he’d do it.’

  ‘Well, did you ask?’

  ‘Not exactly . . .’

  ‘Couldn’t he do it as a favor to his kid brother, at least?’ Georgia said. ‘Pull the guilt card – that’d work.’

  ‘But I think we’ve got our four guys . . .’

  ‘But if you had Flynn, every girl in the state would turn up at our carnival,’ Olivia said. She, like every other girl, thought she had a chance with Flynn. Well, she kind of did, being head cheerleader, and Noah being on the football team, but Noah never gave her a second glance.

  Yet somehow he had a reputation as a player, even though you never saw him pay girls much attention. The weirdest thing was, he almost seemed proud of that status.

  ‘You know, if you got Flynn to do the kissing booth, you’d be a legend,’ Faith told me.

  ‘You’ve got a boyfriend, Faith,’ Georgia reminded her with a laugh. ‘You can’t go to the kissing booth.’

  ‘Why not? It’s all for a good cause. What is it this time – saving the dolphins?’

  ‘I think that was last year,’ I laughed. ‘No, it’s for cancer research charities this year.’

  ‘Even better!’ Faith exclaimed, making us all laugh. ‘Ask him.’

  ‘Yeah, go on,’ Olivia urged me.

  ‘Just ask,’ Candice pleaded. ‘Please, Elle?’

  ‘Well . . . I don’t know . . .’

  ‘Look, here he comes,’ Candice said suddenly, interrupting me. She gave me a gentle shove. ‘Just ask him, at least. If he says no . . . at least you tried.’

  ‘Fine,’ I sighed, giving in. I wandered over to intercept Noah on his way to get another beer.

  He nodded at me.

  ‘Will you do the kissing booth for us, for the Spring Carnival? Please? We can’t find a fourth guy. It’s for charity. Lee and I really need a favor.’

  Noah straightened up, cracking open his can. ‘Kissing booth, huh?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘That’s cool.’

  ‘I know. I’m a cool person.’

  ‘Better than your duck idea.’

  ‘Ha-ha.’

  He gave a breath of laugher and a half-smirk that made my heart skitter wildly. ‘And you want me to be a kisser? At your kissing booth?’

  ‘It’s for a good cause?’ I tried.

  ‘Don’t think so, Shelly.’

  ‘Please, Noah?’ I begged, using the puppy-dog eyes and putting a heavy emphasis on his name.

  ‘Will you go on your knees and beg?’

  ‘No,’ I said slowly, ‘but every other girl will. Would that do it?’

  He laughed a little. ‘That’s why I’m going to say no, sorry.’

  I sighed. ‘Well, they can’t say I didn’t try.’

  ‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘Did you actually need me to do it, or do they just want me to do it?’ he asked, jerking his head past me at the girls.

  ‘The latter.’

  He nodded. ‘Well, sorry. I don’t think I can risk my dignity. Plus, imagine how much all the other guys would hate me for stealing all the kisses,’ he said with a smirk.

  ‘I was thinking something more along the lines of how much the charity would hate you for putting people off coming to the kissing booth.’

  He smirked. ‘Touché.’

  ‘Whatever . . .’ I shook my head. ‘Forget it.’

  I wandered back to the cheerleaders, shrugging with an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, guys. He won’t do it.’

  ‘You should’ve tried harder,’ Olivia said. ‘Watch and learn.’ She thrust her drink at Faith, and sauntered over to Noah, who was talking to a couple of boys. Olivia, in her extremely little black dress, was leaning on Noah’s arm, all but throwing herself at him, and it looked like she had something in her eye, the way she was batting her eyelashes.

  Then again, maybe I was just being a little too critical. I mean, her technique seemed to turn a few other guys’ heads, at least.

  Needless to say, he obviously t
old her no too: she pouted and stalked back to us. ‘That guy is so obnoxious.’

  ‘And so hot,’ Georgia muttered, sipping her drink.

  ‘Hell yeah,’ Olivia agreed with a laugh. The girls all giggled and looked around to check him out.

  ‘Don’t you think Flynn’s hot, Elle?’

  I looked at Faith, blinking. ‘Well, yeah. Of course he is.’

  ‘Then why aren’t you talking about his fine ass?’

  I smiled wryly. ‘Because he’s so far out of my league there’s no point in even trying.’

  She gave me a sympathetic look. ‘What are you on about? You’re really pretty! I mean, I’d kill for hair like yours.’

  I shrugged, and blushed a little. ‘Thanks, I guess. But whatever, he’s just Lee’s big brother to me now.’

  ‘Maybe there’s something there. You never know.’

  I laughed. ‘Yeah, right. In my dreams.’

  Faith shrugged and Candice started talking to her, so I excused myself and slipped into the lounge, where everybody was dancing. I finished off my soda in a few gulps and set the bottle down before joining in. The atmosphere was contagious; not everybody was drinking alcohol, but that didn’t stop them from letting their hair down and going a little crazy.

  I hadn’t intended to get drunk. I knew I could have a good time without any of that stuff. But I was a complete lightweight, so by the time I’d had two cans of apple cider, I was pretty out of it. Time flew past, and I was dancing around, laughing and chatting to people.

  It seemed like everybody had heard about the kissing booth.

  And when they asked me if Flynn would be doing it, I told them I’d ask, because that seemed like the easiest option.

  It was about eleven o’clock. I’d just joined some boys, mostly seniors, and Lee, Jason and Dixon in the game room. They were doing shots, all lined up on the pool table.

  ‘Can I join in?’ I asked, bouncing into the room with a grin.

  ‘Sure,’ Dixon said, and poured another shot for me.

  ‘Uh, haven’t you had enough to drink, Elle?’ Lee asked me warily.

  ‘Who cares?’ I chirped. ‘Three, two . . .’

  Everyone took their shot and slammed the glasses down again. Dixon poured the vodka out again and again. After the second, I lost track of which round we were on. I didn’t even like vodka – it was gross. It burned my throat the whole way down. But I didn’t notice.

  Everything was bright and out of focus and loud. I giggled helplessly, doubling over in hysterics.

  ‘Elle, you are so wasted,’ laughed Chris, walking over and straightening me up.

  I giggled again. ‘Let’s dance. I want to dance. Somebody dance with me. Chris, dance with me?’

  ‘There’s no music in here.’

  ‘Oh well. Let’s do it anyway.’ But then I decided to climb onto the pool table to dance. I giggled a little when I felt the pounding bass from the lounge through the pool table.

  I started swishing my hips from side to side in time with the music, my hands in the air, my hair swinging with me. I tried to drag Lee up to dance too, but he wouldn’t.

  ‘Why not?’ I whined at him.

  ‘I’m not dancing,’ he said. ‘C’mon, Elle, just get down.’

  I stuck my tongue out at him. He tried to grab hold of me and pull me down, but I wriggled away and carried on dancing. He was such a party pooper!

  ‘I’ll be right back.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ I asked him. He couldn’t leave – the party wasn’t over yet!

  ‘I’m going to get a drink. Dixon, you want anything?’

  ‘Got all I need right here man,’ he replied, and winked at me with a laugh. I blew him a kiss.

  It was so hot in the game room, I thought. Had somebody turned up the heating? I was really starting to sweat. Maybe a dip in the pool would cool me down . . .

  And suddenly I had the perfect solution. ‘Someone come skinny dipping!’ I cried enthusiastically, and reached for my zip as I stumbled to the edge of the table, teetering in my wedges.

  Suddenly, my feet left the ground and the whole world turned upside down. My legs were in the air and my head was hanging down looking at someone’s back.

  ‘Hey!’ I cried. ‘Put me down! Put me down!’

  They didn’t put me down though. I watched the stairs stretch out below me as they carried me upstairs. My palm turned clammy. This couldn’t be Lee. He hadn’t been wearing green – had he? Maybe he had?

  No, I was sure he hadn’t. Lee was wearing red. I didn’t know who was in a green shirt.

  But whoever it was was pretty damn strong, given that I was wriggling around like a wild thing.

  Eventually I was dropped onto something soft. A mattress! That’s what it was.

  I sat up straight, folding my legs underneath me as best I could. ‘Noah Flynn,’ I complained when I saw him giving me a reprimanding look. ‘You’re such a party pooper! I was having fun!’

  ‘You were about to strip off,’ he argued. ‘Just take a break for twenty minutes.’

  ‘No!’ I cried, pouting. ‘Don’t be such a downer. I wanted to go skinny dipping!’

  He shook his head at me, smirking. ‘Tempting as that is, I think you’re better off staying here for a little bit – at least till you’re more sober.’

  I sighed, sinking back down on the pillows. Then I sat up again. ‘Are you going to leave me all on my own?’

  ‘No. I don’t trust you to stay in the room.’

  ‘You don’t trust me? Why not? I’m Lee’s best friend. You’ve known me since forever! You should trust me more.’

  Noah was shaking his head at me while he went over to push the door shut and turn the key in the lock.

  I raised an eyebrow as he wandered back over and straddled a chair facing me.

  But, even in my state of mind, I knew the thought was ridiculous.

  ‘Aren’t you drunk?’ I asked him.

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Aw, why? It’s your party. Go crazy!’

  ‘I think you were being crazy enough for the both of us.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, pouting a little. ‘I didn’t mean to spoil your fun.’

  Noah laughed at me.

  I clambered to the edge of the bed and swung my legs back and forth, sitting on my hands. ‘Noah . . .’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Will you please do the kissing booth for us?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Please?’ I begged, bouncing up and down on the springy mattress. Wow. It was like a trampoline or something! Like Lee’s bed. ‘Please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’ I whined. ‘You’re so mean!’

  ‘I don’t want to do a kissing booth, simple as.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Please? It’s – I think it’s for cancer. Or maybe it’s for the dolphins. That’s a funny word isn’t it, dolphins? Dolphins . . . Dol . . . phins . . . Like dolly-fins.’

  ‘I’m not going to do the kissing booth, no matter who or what it’s for.’

  I got up and moved over to crouch right in front of him, so close that our noses were almost touching. ‘Not even for me?’

  He shook his head. Then – ‘Man, your breath stinks. How much vodka did you have, Elle?’

  ‘I don’t know. Dixon poured it.’

  He sighed. ‘Those guys . . . I swear . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Fine, don’t tell me then.’ I shot back up straight and staggered back, the whole room pitching around me and turning gray and fuzzy around the edges.

  ‘I think I’m gonna be sick.’

  Noah was already shoving me into the bathroom, and pushed me over the toilet bowl in time for me to puke my guts up.

  Once that was over and I was done dry-heaving, I flopped down on the cold tile floor, my head lolling against the edge of the bathtub. A glass of c
old water was pushed against my lips, and he made me drink it up.

  ‘I’m really, really sorry, Noah,’ I whimpered. I felt all gross now after throwing up. ‘I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your party.’

  ‘You didn’t ruin my party, Elle,’ he told me.

  I nodded fiercely, but stopped when it made me feel sick again. ‘Yes I did. I’m really sorry!’

  ‘It’s okay,’ he laughed. ‘Calm down.’

  I scowled, and punched him on the chest. Wow. That is one solid chest. I bet he has a six-pack too. Maybe even an eight-pack, knowing Noah. Or a ten-pack! Is there even such a thing? Possibly . . . If there was, Noah would have one.

  Halting my internal babble, I said, ‘Don’t laugh at me.’

  He laughed harder, and pulled me to my feet. I half fell, so he wrapped an arm around my waist to support me. After helping me stagger back over to the bed, he let me drop on top of the covers.

  ‘I’ll be back in ten minutes to ch—’

  I was already asleep.

  Chapter 3

  SUNLIGHT WAS TRYING to filter through the drapes, but it was weak early morning sunshine, and the glow turned the room a dark blue. I closed my eyes again, trying to snuggle my head down into the soft squishy pillow under my head. I curled into a tighter ball under a thick comforter.

  I was so cozy and warm. And everything smelled . . . it was something between citrus and woodsy. Whatever it was, it was a really great smell. And I was sure I’d smelled it somewhere before on someone . . .

  I gasped suddenly, sitting bolt upright.

  My bedroom didn’t smell like that. And my bed was not this comfortable. Neither did my room have blue drapes.

  So . . . where the hell was I?

  I looked around. Everything was sort of familiar . . . But I definitely hadn’t been here before. I threw the covers off and saw I was wearing a boy’s shirt that was too big on me, just a plain gray shirt. It smelled just like the pillows.

  I still had all my underwear on though – that was a good sign.

  I climbed out of the bed carefully. What the hell had happened last night? I strained my memory, but came up short. I vaguely recalled dancing on the pool table. Had I really had that much to drink?

  There was a disgusting taste in my mouth to match my pounding headache.