Don't Kiss Your Lab Partner

by Lucy McConnell

  “Do you actually know this guy, or are you playing Russian roulette with my first date?”

  “I’m trying to decide between three of my best friends in the whole world.”

  I gave him a look.

  “They don’t go to this school.”

  “How do you know them?”

  “One of them I played soccer with in city league until 7th grade. One of them, well—our parents have been best friends forever. The last one works at the boat shop we use.”

  I mentally skipped through the options, trying to narrow it down for him. “No boat shop guy.”

  “You don’t like boats?”

  “I don’t like guys you only vouch for because they can work on your boat.”

  “Fair enough.” He scrolled up. “But do you like boats, boating, waterskiing?”

  “I don’t know. We’re more of a mountain climbing family. It looks fun, though.”

  He smiled. “It’s epic. So … food preference?”

  “Nothing spicy.” I might be willing to let him drag me across the lake with nothing but a thin rope to hold on to, but when it came to cuisine, I had limited courage.

  He nodded. “I can work with that.” The bell rang. He got to his feet. “Friday night. I’ll text you. Come hungry.”

  He said it so casually that I almost believed it was the two of us meeting up. He smiled over his shoulder as he left, and I sank into my chair. I was going on a blind date for real. I must be crazy. I had the feeling I’d do just about anything for John—including go out with his best friend.

  Chapter Eleven

  Friday night, I stood in front of my closet, considering my options. Most of my non-school uniform clothes were at home. I had a few outfits for other activities, but I hadn't packed thinking I would be on a date this week.

  Life was weird.

  Sydney breezed into the room. “Anthony and I are going to the movies. Want to come?”

  “I can’t.” I was going to tell her about my date all week, but I chickened out. I knew she’d make a big deal out of it, and I really wanted a low-key first date thing. Which is why I didn’t run home to get clothes after classes let out.

  “Come on—you study too much.”

  “Says the future valedictorian.”

  “Yeah, right. There’s, like, thirty of us with GPAs over a 4.0. If I get honorable mention, I’ll be ecstatic.” She opened my top drawer and pulled out a packet of cinnamon bears.

  I didn’t respond to her comment about grades, because she was right.

  “So, are you coming?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t. I have a date.” I said the last part as quietly as I could, but she still heard me and screamed.

  “It’s John, isn’t it?” Sydney jumped up and down, her hands flapping. “I knew he liked you. I knew it! It was the whole stopping by during lunch. That’s a classic sign.”

  My eyes widened and I darted to shut the door. “Stop. Let me finish the story.” I quickly explained how he’d set me up with his friend—a friend I didn’t know and who didn’t go to this school and who could be three foot four and have a beard.

  “If he does, then you know John likes you, because he set you up to fail.”

  “What if he’s really cute?”

  “Then you have to look totally hot so John will be jealous.”

  “How do you know this stuff?”

  She shrugged.

  “No, really. Is there an instruction book somewhere?” That would be handy.

  Sydney started sorting through my clothes. “Okay, you’re going to have to step it up from gym clothes and hiking pants.”

  “I should just wear my school uniform.”

  “Ew. That’s creepy.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  She cocked out a hip. “This close to Halloween, he’ll think you’re wearing a costume—that’s just weird.”

  “Ugh! Dating is hard.” I threw myself on the bed.

  “Only until you find a guy you like. Then it’s way fun.”

  I thought of John. If he were meeting me tonight, we’d have a great time. Heck, just talking to him in class was way more fun than any other discussion I’d had that day. And when I wasn’t in class, I missed being around him.

  Why was I going out with this guy again? Oh yeah, because I was a loser who’d missed the bus, and now I had to play catch-up.

  “These jeans.” Sydney threw the pants my direction. They landed on my belly. I left them there and didn’t try to get up. “This blouse and your ballet flats.” She put her hands on her hips. “That should work for just about any date activity.”

  My phone dinged a text. I dove for it. John had sent me the address earlier, and the amount of serotonin released into my brain at seeing his name on the screen was practically addictive.

  It was him again. Are you on the road? Brad is almost there.

  Shoot! Getting dressed. I threw on the outfit and stood in front of the mirror. Sydney took a picture with my phone. Her thumbs flew, and I looked over her shoulder to see her texting John. Will this work? Do I need to dress up more?

  The three dots beeped, and then the reply came. Wow. That’s perfect.

  Sydney held up the phone. “See? He likes you.”

  “He set me up with his best friend.” I grabbed the phone and tucked it into my back pocket.

  “Maybe he’s shy.”

  “Or not interested. I gotta go. Have fun at the movies.” I gave her a quick hug and sprinted out the door.

  My driver was supposed to be out front. I prayed he was on time. I wished I could drive myself tonight. I had my license, but Mom thought I needed more practice behind the wheel before they turned me loose with my own car. I think they were worried about me being able to leave campus without them knowing. There were such things as tracker apps, and I wasn’t opposed to using one. It wasn’t like I was the type to sneak out or anything.

  I don’t know. It wasn’t my job to tell them how to parent. And with Rufus around to pick me up when I needed to go somewhere, I wasn’t making too much of a fuss about not driving. Besides, my stomach twirled like an overachieving ballerina, and it was comforting to know that Rufus would be close if I needed to make a quick escape.

  I hoped that wasn’t the case, though. I wanted to find out what everyone was talking about—why dating and coupling off and—gulp—kissing were such big deals.

  Who knew? If everything went well tonight, then I might have more than my first date—I might get my first kiss too.

  I bit my lip as I slid into the back seat and texted Rufus the address. He programmed it into the GPS, and we were off.

  I hoped I wasn’t too late. Then I kind of wanted to be late, because it would give me another reason to text John. My thumb hovered over the screen. I could tell him I was on my way—that I was in the car. Then I could let him know I was close.

  No. I had to put aside the temptation to spend the night texting John and focus on this new guy, whoever he might be.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I heard this place uses liquid nitrogen to freeze the ice cream. I thought it would be cool because John said you are super smart and stuff.”

  I smiled as Brad held the door open to the build-your-own-ice-cream shop. It was sweet of him to think of me, but we’d done frozen ice cream with nitrogen in the fifth grade. Sydney loved it. I thought the milk came out crystal-ish.

  But hey, I was here to try new things and date.

  We’d had dinner at Applebee’s where Brad spent the hour complaining about the service and that they’d overcooked his steak. I tried to change the subject, but he’d fixated on those two things and I couldn’t get him to move on. Maybe he was nervous too. His leg bounced the whole time we were sitting there.

  Twenty minutes in, I considered bailing on him, but I knew enough about dating to know that would have been ultra rude. Plus, I didn’t want Brad to tell John I ditched him. They were friends, and John would be embarrassed. For John’s sake, I stuck it out
. “Hopefully they won’t overcook your ice cream,” I joked, trying to make light of things.

  His face clouded. “How would they do that?”

  “They can’t.” I pointed to the picture of an ice cream float behind the counter. “I was being ironic.” Which I had thought was funny, considering what happened to his steak, but apparently not. I might not be an expert on dating, but I did know that if you had to explain a joke, then it wasn’t really funny. I dropped my arm and let my hand bounce off my leg.

  I turned to take in the cow decor. The floor was black with white spots. Funny, because Holstein cows were white with black spots. I couldn’t imagine trying to keep a white floor clean in a business like this, so the change-up was probably a good idea. The counter was wrapped in metal sheeting, and the tables were barn red. Two families with small children occupied one corner. The kids were friends and chatted as they worked their way through ice cream buckets.

  The menu was up high, and I had to crane my neck to read it. “So, do you have a favorite flavor?”

  He smiled at me. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. My favorite flavor tonight is Adelle.”

  I paused. Was he trying to flirt with me or … “Are you being ironic?” If he was, he was doing it all wrong.

  “No.” He cringed. “I was just—never mind. Let’s order.”

  We stepped up to the counter. I went for a candy bar creation, and Brad got a fudge and peanut butter delight.

  I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was cute. He had longer hair that flopped over his forehead. His cobalt-blue shirt did great things for his sky-blue eyes, and his lips were a natural shade of pink. Girls would kill for lips like those. But they were kind of shiny because he licked them all the time. Kissing him might be kind of slimy, and the idea of it made me wrinkle my nose.

  After a puff of gas and a few shakes of the bowl, I had my own bucket of goodness.

  “Let’s take these outside.” Brad motioned for me to precede him. When we got to the door, I paused, expecting him to open it. My dad did it all the time for me and my mom.

  He stood behind me. “There’s a fountain out there.”

  “Yeah.” I used my hip to push the door open and did my best not to spill. The ice cream melted fast, and the bucket was filled to overflowing. I transferred hands and licked a drip off my fingers. “How’s your ice cream?”

  “It’s okay.” He dipped his spoon into my bucket and stole a bite. “Yours is better.”

  “Uh.” I glanced down at my food, and a thousand thoughts scattered at once. Did he just steal my ice cream? Was that normal date behavior? I wanted to send a text to Sydney or John and ask, but I couldn’t figure out how to hold my dessert and text at the same time. My self-esteem was dropping by the minute.

  “Want some of mine?” he offered.

  “Oh.” I looked at his melty dessert. I didn’t really want it, but this was a thing, so I was going to go for it. “Sure.” I dug my spoon in, trying to get more than chocolate soup, and I guess I pushed too hard, because his hold on the cup slipped. “Oh no!”

  Everything went into slow motion. I could see the cup falling toward his light-colored jeans. I could even picture the stain that was left behind. But my body couldn’t move fast enough to stop it from happening.

  The cup hit his leg, and chocolate covered his lap. He jumped, sending the ice cream down his leg, where it smeared a line all the way to his shoe.

  “I’m so sorry.” I set my pail on the edge of the fountain and handed him my napkin. I should have gotten twenty.

  Brad stared for a minute, and then he tipped his head back and laughed. The sound was maniacal and made the hair on my arms stand up.

  I took a step back. “I’ll buy you new pants. Really, I’m so sorry.”

  He settled down and gave me a bemused look. “You know what? Let’s just wash it off right now.”

  “There’s a bathroom inside.” I pointed over my shoulder.

  He shucked off his shoes. “I have a better idea.” He put a hand on the side of the fountain and vaulted over, splashing into the water. “Come on, Adelle, jump in.” He kicked water at me.

  I ducked away and squealed. “You’re crazy.”

  People stared at him, pointing and shaking their heads. There was a sign right there by my ice cream pail that said, “Stay out!” He’d practically jumped over the top of it—no way he didn’t see it.

  He hopped out and grabbed my arm. “Live a little,” he said as he dragged me toward the water. He was strong, stronger than I’d given him credit for, and he moved me all too easily closer to his target.

  I had a sudden and uncontrollable fear of water. I spun in his arms and started pushing back, my hands on his chest. It was nice as far as chests went, solid, but my brain was on fear overload. “No,” I said firmly. “I don’t want to.”

  He laughed. “That’s only because you haven’t tried it.” He scooped me up like a kid and dangled me over the water.

  I clung to his neck with all my might. His body spray made my eyes burn. “Put me down.”

  “Okay.” He dropped my legs, and my feet splashed. The water soaked up my pant legs, and I screamed.

  He laughed as he climbed in with me. “Now all we need are some tunes.” He turned on the speaker on his phone, and the band Louder blasted, the base tinny and the lyrics echoing off the fountain walls.

  “Hey!” yelled a man with a receding hairline. “Get out of there.”

  “We’re young and in love!” Brad yelled and threw his hands in the air.

  Another man whooped for us.

  I buried my face in my hands. I was so not in love with Brad. I grabbed his elbow. “Come on.” I tugged, but he didn’t move. The balding guy was on his phone, pointing at us as he talked.

  “No way, this is awesome.” Brad wrapped his arms around me from behind and took a selfie of us. I was so shocked to have him in my personal space that I froze with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth.

  I would burn that picture off the Internet. There were advantages to being able to hack almost any computer system. My mom had helped set up the school firewall, so I hadn’t even tried that one. Not that I would. But I could get into his Insta.

  I follow rules. I like rules. And I hated being in this fountain.

  Brad released me and focused on his post. I took advantage of the distraction and headed out. My shoes and socks were so wet—I’d have to trash them.

  As I climbed out of the water, I kicked my ice cream and ended up with splatters on my pants. Great. Now neither of us looked like we could feed ourselves.

  “Freeze!” yelled a deep voice.

  I did just what it told me to do. My one leg was out of the fountain, and the other was in the air. I don’t know how I knew that the voice was talking to me, but I did.

  A second later, Brad’s hands went about my middle as he jumped out. He pulled me after him. “Run,” he insisted.

  I glanced over to see a police officer jogging our way. He was down the path, and his partner was twenty yards behind him. “But—”

  Brad took my hand. “Run!” He tugged me into action, and soon we were sprinting full tilt down the sidewalk. Brad turned left, and I went across the street. A trail of wet footprints would lead the officers right to us.

  I grabbed my phone and called Rufus. “Where are you?” I panted. Man, I hated running. My side hurt and my lungs strained.

  “I can see you in my mirror.” He honked the horn once, and the lights flashed. “Is everything all right, miss?”

  “It’s wonderful.” There was an end in sight. “Don’t get out.” He would normally open my door for me, but I was in a hurry to leave a cold trail—er, a dry trail.

  I looked over my shoulder once and saw the cops stop at the red light. They were pointing to our water spots, looking the way Brad had gone.

  I landed in the back seat. “Can you drive up that way?” I pointed back toward the police.
I couldn’t leave Brad to face them on his own. He might have been the reason we had to run from the police, but he was John’s friend. How was I going to explain that he’d been arrested and I’d gotten away?

  “Yes, miss.”

  Just as he put on the blinker to pull into traffic, my phone buzzed a text from John. Are you okay? Brad said he lost you downtown. He’s worried about you.

  Where is he? I texted back.

  He’s on his way home.

  What?! He’d left me?

  He’d. Left. Me.

  Wow. Just wow. Tell him I’m fine. And then throw away his number, because he’s not worthy to be your friend.

  The pic from us in the fountain came through. Looks like fun. John sent a thumbs-up.

  I rolled my eyes. If he only knew. I stared at the phone, unsure how to explain everything that had just happened. I couldn’t quite believe it myself. My breath was barely getting back to normal, and Rufus glanced at me in the rearview mirror every ten seconds.

  But … maybe I could make this work for me in one way, at least. I forwarded the picture to my dad. Dating goal—check. There. I tossed my phone on the seat next to me and laid my head back against the cool leather. My feet were freezing.

  The phone dinged, and I glanced down to see Dad’s reply.

  Great job. Social Goal #2—attend a party.

  Curses! You’re killing me, I texted back.

  How in the world was I going to go to a party? It’s not like there weren’t parties at school. It was just that I wasn’t interested in them. I mean, who wanted to watch the same movie over and over again or play video games until their eyes burned out?

  I paused. There was one type of party that looked like a lot of fun. They had s’mores there and bouncy houses.

  I chewed on my lip. No. John wouldn’t invite me to one of his mom’s get-togethers. I wasn’t even sure about his motives for setting me up with Brad. I mean, it was obvious we weren’t a good match. Brad was fun times and fountain dancing, and I was … not.

  So what was up with that? It was almost like he wanted the date to fail. But he wouldn’t do that, would he?