Never Been Kissed

by Melody Carlson

  I laugh too. “Hey, I’d be really glad to have a car this cool.” Suddenly I realize that I’m going to have to tell Asher where I live—and that is totally not cool.

  “Want to get a coffee or soda or something before I take you home?” he offers.

  “Sure,” I say, trying not to sound too eager. This might give me time to come up with a plan to avoid telling him that I live in the Tropicana Suites.

  He chooses a coffee place, and we both order iced mochas and sit outside, and he tells me about how this year feels different for him. “It’s weird not playing football. I mean it was my choice to quit, but it’s like I don’t know what to do with my time now. It’s like I’m out of sync or something.”

  “I know how you feel.”

  He nods. “Yeah, I’ll bet you do. Starting a new school, well, that’s got to be tough.”

  “Thanks for making it better,” I tell him. “I really appreciate it.” I confess how scared I was that I wouldn’t make any friends or that I’d get picked on. “But it was actually a really good day.”

  By the time we finish our coffees, I’ve come up with a plan. I tell him I live in Arbor Estates, which is a pretty nice condominium development a few blocks away from where I really live. “It’s just temporary,” I say as he drives me over there. “My mom’s job transfer happened so quickly, she hasn’t had time to buy something in a better neighborhood yet.”

  Asher drops me off in the parking lot and I thank him again. I pretend to walk toward one of the buildings, taking my time, and when I know he’s gone, I slowly turn around and walk on over to the Tropicana.

  I’m just heading up the stairs to our apartment when I hear Stacie calling my name. I realize I’ll have to do some backpedaling and apologizing. To my relief, she’s totally understanding.

  “It’s okay,” she tells me. “I mean I was kind of jealous at first. I couldn’t believe you got swooped into that crowd. But I actually think it’s cool. And I’m only a freshman. I couldn’t expect you to hang with me and my friends.”

  I tell her about how Asher drove me home and how we went for coffee and how I think maybe he’s slightly into me. “I mean I know he’s got a girlfriend, but it’s not like they’re married, right?”

  “Totally.”

  “And even though she’s really sweet, Asher might be tired of her. I mean she’s all into cheerleading and he’s quit football . . . maybe they’re about to go their separate ways.” Of course, even as I say this, I’m remembering Jake and Jocelyn and how I was always imagining a similar scenario about them. And I wonder—what is it with me and couples like this? Is there something Freudian going on?

  “Wow.” Stacie shakes her head. “You and Asher Gordon . . . that would be so amazing. And you’ll have to tell me all the details, okay?”

  “I will,” I promise her. “As long as you don’t mind not hanging with me at school, okay?”

  So we agree. And even though this makes me feel somewhat shallow, I think it’s for the best. Like Stacie said, she’s a freshman and I’m a junior—a junior who’s hanging with seniors and juniors and finally making my way into a group of pretty cool friends. Or so it seems.

  But the truth is there’s this nagging little voice in the back of my head saying, If it seems too good to be true . . . it probably is.

  5

  ______

  As it turns out, that nagging little voice was right. Oh, the morning of my second day at school goes fairly smoothly. Spanish with Asher is actually pretty fun, and I can tell he genuinely likes me. But it’s like everything changes the moment I enter the cafeteria at lunchtime. Again, I’m with Asher. But this time, Brianna makes a beeline for her boyfriend, and totally ignoring me, she grabs onto him and literally drags him away from me. I’m just standing there unsure of what to do next.

  I proceed with caution toward the table where I was so warmly welcomed yesterday. But today I’m met with icy stares. No one offers me a seat. Even when I say, “Hey,” I’m totally ignored. It’s like I’m being frozen out.

  Like yesterday, I vaguely wonder if this is all just a dream—more like a nightmare. But I know it’s real. I suppose I’m not really that surprised. I don’t know why I thought I could squeeze my way into that group. As I get in the lunch line, I wonder why I even tried. Yet it had just seemed to happen so naturally, like I hadn’t really tried at all.

  Today I get a cheeseburger to go. I take my lunch outside and wander around the courtyard until I find a solitary spot where I sit and eat in silence. I suppose I’m kind of in shock, but I tell myself that this is all for the best. Really, the pressure of hanging with those kids was too much. I should really be relieved and just accept that this is how it’s going to be. I might do that . . . except for one thing—I can’t stop thinking about Asher.

  I eat half of my cheeseburger, which tastes like sawdust, dump the rest of my lunch, and proceed toward the art department. I’m only mildly surprised to see that Katie is already there. Feeling dejected and pathetic, I go and sit next to her.

  “That’s nice,” I tell her as I admire the pickup sketch she’s still working on. “I bet someone would pay good money for that and hang it on their wall.”

  She just nods and continues shading in a dent on the fender.

  Soon the others come in, and I try to avoid eye contact with Bristol as I focus on my own project. I’m trying to get Usher’s ring just right—using this obsession to block out the pain that’s inside me.

  “You looked kind of shocked at lunch,” Bristol says quietly.

  I glance up and realize she’s talking to me. I shrug.

  “Maybe you didn’t know what was going on.”

  I consider my options. I could just ignore her like she ignored me in the cafeteria. Or I could try to find out what happened. “I guess I don’t really know,” I confess. “Well, other than the same old same old—girls being mean to girls for no particular reason.”

  I see Phillip’s eyes glint with interest, and suddenly he’s watching us. Not that I particularly care. It seems a small thing to be embarrassed here in Art compared to how I felt in the cafeteria.

  “Well, you probably aren’t aware that you and Asher were spotted yesterday.”

  “Spotted?” I frown at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you two having coffee. You were seen. And when Brianna found out about it, well, let’s just say she’s not too happy with you. None of us are.”

  “But he was just giving me—”

  “You can paint it any way you like, Elise. But the fact is you were putting the move on Asher and everyone knows it. And that is so low. I mean we all were nice to you. And this is the thanks we get. Kind of pathetic.”

  I look over at Phillip, and he looks just as surprised as I am. But he smiles at me—almost as if to say he understands. I just sigh and look back down at my drawing, desperately wishing for this day to end.

  When the day finally does end, I’m relieved to catch a ride with Stacie and her mom. Even if their old car looks like a wreck and smells like stale fast food, at least I’ll be home soon. Stacie presses me for information as I slump in the backseat. But I’m not talking.

  Once we’re home, she follows me to my apartment, demanding to know what’s going on. Knowing it’s the only way to get rid of her, I pour out the whole ugly story. And then I cry.

  “Oh, Elise,” she says with compassion. “I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”

  “I know.” I reach for another tissue and blow my nose. “I don’t even know how it happened. I mean I kind of know. But it all came at me so fast. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I’ll bet Asher really did like you too,” Stacie says. “But snooty little Brianna probably threw a hissy fit.”

  “I guess I can’t really blame her,” I admit. “I mean they were all so nice to me. They treated me like an equal, like a friend. Then it looked like I was trying to steal her boyfriend, and even though I wasn’t really . . . I guess maybe I kind of was
. . . I mean I sort of hoped that Asher was into me.”

  “Well, it’s not like Brianna owns him. I mean they’re not married or anything.”

  “I know. But it was still wrong for me to go after him.”

  Stacie’s phone rings and it’s her mom. She hangs up and frowns. “Mom said I better get home and do my share of the housework or suffer the consequences. And the consequences mean riding the bus home from school tomorrow.”

  I thank her for listening and promise not to kill myself. Now I’m alone in the apartment, and I wonder how it’s possible to go from being ecstatically happy one day to totally bummed the next. To distract myself, I turn on the TV and just sit there gazing blankly at the screen. Then I go to my room and have another good cry.

  Finally I turn on my computer, telling myself that I’m going to do homework. But first I check email and I’m surprised to see that I have a post from an address I don’t recognize. I wonder who gasher@google.com might be, and then it hits me. Gasher must be G Asher—in other words, Asher Gordon. I quickly open it and am stunned to see that it really is from Asher. I’m even more stunned—and touched—at what he’s written.

  Hi, Elise. Sorry about what happened today. I would’ve talked to you in person, but that would’ve gotten us both into more hot water. As you can guess by now, Brianna is very possessive. And she wants me to stay away from you. But I wanted to let you know that’s not how I feel. It’s just that, for now, we need to keep a lid on things. That means avoiding each other for a while. Are you good with that? If we act totally disinterested in each other, I’ll have time to figure things out with Brianna. Thanks for understanding.

  Asher

  I read the email several times before it fully sinks in. Asher really is into me. It’s just that he needs to handle this thing with Brianna the right way. That only shows that he’s truly a gentleman. But he’s into me! I can’t wait to write back. But then I think, No, I should wait. No need to appear too eager. So far I’ve played this thing pretty calmly. I think I should keep it up.

  I go and fix myself a snack (to make up for the rotten lunch I endured) and then take my time eating it. Finally, an hour has passed and I can’t wait another minute. With trembling hands, I begin to write. But then I realize I’ve written too much . . . said too much . . . so I go back and start over. It takes several tries before I get it just right. I read it again just to be sure.

  Hi, Asher. Thanks for explaining everything to me. It was kind of upsetting, especially since I thought we were friends. But I can understand why Brianna reacted like that. And I respect you for handling it the way you are. I’m totally cool with avoiding you and acting like there’s absolutely nothing between us. In case you want to talk or text me, my cell phone number is 555-3972.

  Elise

  I hold my breath and click send. I just sit there and wait, staring at my laptop like I think it’s going to sing and dance. I jump up to make sure my cell phone is on and fully charged. Then, to distract myself, I start doing my homework. Finally it’s nearly six o’clock and I’m checking email for like the twentieth time. It appears that Asher has written back. With shaking fingers I open it.

  Thanks for writing back, Elise. And thanks for understanding. As far as the cell phone, it’s too risky. Sometimes Brianna borrows my phone and I wouldn’t be surprised if she checks to see who I’ve been talking to. Besides that, I promised my parents I wouldn’t text anymore after a big bill I got last year. So let’s stick to email. Can’t wait to see you at school tomorrow. But if you catch me looking, just toss me an icy stare, okay? That’ll be my reminder that we’re keeping this thing undercover for now. And, another thing, let’s ask Ms. Sorenson to find us different lab partners in Spanish. That’ll make this more believable. Missing you already.

  Asher

  I can’t believe it. Two emails in one night. And the second one sounds even warmer than the first. He’s missing me! He can’t wait to see me. This is so cool.

  This time when I write back, my hands aren’t shaking. But I do control myself from saying too much. I really want to do this right.

  I get you about the cell phone. Makes sense. So does switching lab partners. But I’ll miss you. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to give you the cold shoulder if you so much as glance my way tomorrow. Just remember that it’s only an act. :-) And hopefully it’s an act that I won’t be playing for too long.

  Elise

  The next morning Stacie and I wait for my mom downstairs, and I quickly fill her in on this latest development. Then I swear her to secrecy.

  “This is so cool,” she says as Mom is coming. “Really exciting!”

  As we ride to school, I talk about other things. It’s not that I usually keep stuff from my mom, but I’m not sure she’d understand this. She might think I was selling myself short by keeping up this little pretense. But in time I’ll tell her.

  It’s surprisingly fun to walk around school with this kind of secret to hold on to. When I see Asher on my way to Spanish, he immediately forgets everything and smiles at me like always. I just glare at him. Then to add to the drama, I go straight to Ms. Sorenson and request a change in lab partners.

  “Is something wrong?” she asks.

  “I’m just not comfortable with him,” I tell her quietly. “I’d rather be with a girl, if that’s okay. I think I’d have more confidence with a girl.”

  She smiles as if she understands. “I think Tessa Atkins is feeling like that too,” she says. “We’ll just make a quiet switch.”

  “Thank you.”

  Asher looks surprised when Ms. Sorenson announces that she’s switched some lab partners. But I know it’s just an act. I suppress the urge to giggle as I toss him another icy stare.

  I continue to avoid him, but by the end of the day some of the fun has worn off, and I’m wondering how long we’ll have to continue this little act. But when I get home, there’s a new email from him. That makes up for everything.

  You did great today, Elise. So far so good. Brianna seems to be buying into our charade. But to make it more realistic, I might try to approach you at school. Then you can just blow me off like I’m dirt under your feet. That way everyone will assume we’re not into each other at all. Because in time, I’m going to break up with Brianna. I just don’t want it to look like I dumped her for you. If that happens, she’ll set her sights on you. You don’t want Brianna and her friends torturing you for the rest of the year. So we’ll just play this out and do it right. Then we can be together.

  Asher

  I can’t help but jump up and down at this news. He really does plan to break up with Brianna—just to be with me. It’s like a dream come true. Or a prayer answered. Then I remember how I actually did pray for this to happen, so I pray again. This time I thank God and promise to be more faithful in my prayers, and I even tell him that I’ll start looking for a church.

  Because Asher is being so honorable in this whole thing, I wonder if perhaps he’s a Christian too. Wouldn’t that make sense! In fact, I think I’ll mention something about this in my next email to him.

  Thanks for writing again. And thanks for your willingness to protect me like this. Some guys wouldn’t be that considerate. I haven’t told you this yet, but I’m a Christian, and although I’m not perfect, I try to live my life with Christian values. I was just curious about you. You seem like a stand-up kind of guy. What’s your religious background?

  Don’t worry, I’ll remember to treat you like crud if you try to talk to me. Hopefully someone will witness my hostilities. But I know it’s going to hurt me inside to be mean to you, Asher. Because you’re a great guy.

  Elise

  It’s on Friday, right after lunch, that Asher actually does approach me. But it’s in a corner of a hallway where hardly anyone is around to see us. I’m thinking this is going to be a total waste of drama.

  “Why are you so mad at me?” he asks quietly. At first I wonder if this is kind of a practice run, but then I notice that Bristol
is coming our direction. Of course, she’s on her way to Art too. That’s when I realize this is a perfect setup since Bristol is one of Brianna’s best friends.

  “Why are you trying to talk to me?” I shoot back at him. “You know I can’t stand you or any of your other stuck-up friends. So just back off, okay? I’ve had enough already.” I turn from him and storm into the art room, where Phillip is standing by the door.

  “Wow,” he says to me. “You really told him off.”

  I nod. “He had it coming.”

  “Really? What did he do?”

  “He used me to make Brianna jealous. And now he wants to act like that’s no big deal.”

  Phillip looks slightly confused, but he nods. “I guess that’s a little twisted.”

  “Well, at least Elise has the sense to keep a safe distance,” Bristol says to Phillip. “Some girls wouldn’t be that smart.”

  I roll my eyes, but inside I’m smiling. I’m thinking, Just you wait, we’ll see who’s smart.

  As usual, Katie is silently working away—this time it’s a charcoal sketch. I’m still stuck with pencils because I’m not as advanced as she is. But I like pencils. I feel like I have more control with them.

  “That’s looking good,” Phillip tells me as he stands to stretch his back and neck.

  “Thanks.” I check out his sketch. The last time I looked, it was simply the palm of an open hand. He used his own hand as a model, and the drawing seemed pretty realistic, with creases and lines and veins and things. But now there’s this dark, gaping hole in the center of the palm.

  “Is that . . .”

  “What?” he asks.

  “Is that supposed to be Jesus’s hand?”

  He nods. “But it’s not quite right.”

  I stare at the hand.

  “I think maybe I should’ve drawn the nail going through instead,” he says as he studies his drawing.

  “Are you a Christian?” I ask quietly.

  He smiles. “Yeah. How about you?”

  I nod.

  “Where do you go to church?”