Stage Kissed

by Cassie Mae

  “Wait a minute,” Scott says, putting his face right in mine, hand still on the back of my shirt. He’s a tower, and my six-foot feeling is very short-lived.

  “Scott, leave him alone,” Kate says, putting an arm on his. “He didn’t do anything.”

  He ignores her. “Didn’t your mom ever tell you it’s rude to interrupt people?”

  I blink a few times, and hold back the bile rising in my throat from his beer breath. My eyes move to his neck, brain starting to work overtime. Given his slurry speech, the sweat running down his hairline, and the glazed eyes, I bet he won’t remember a thing tomorrow. No wonder Kate was begging me via telepathy to get her away from him.

  And that pressure point right there in the collar bone should put him on the ground, given my body fat percentage and—

  The air swooshes around me, whizzing past my ears and makes my vision blurry as a powerful hand pushes the back of my head. The last thing I see before hitting the ground is the beige wall Scott has thrown my face into.

  “Seth!”

  Spots. Spots everywhere. Something glugs through my stomach and rushes up to my throat. Am I still standing? I thought I was on the floor. Maybe someone helped me up? I don’t know, but my head isn’t working right. Somewhere around my fuzzed ears I hear laughing and gasping and Kate and Brit’s voices. But I can’t think. Why can’t I think?

  The lump in my throat makes me taste acid, and when I try to swallow the sudden drool in my mouth, my stomach decides to push back.

  “Sick! Dude, get him out of here! He’s wasted.”

  Who are they talking about? The room spins around, and I put my hand to my head, hoping that’ll ease the dizzy spell.

  “Seth?” I hear from what sounds like miles away. “Seth, open your eyes.” Something smacks my cheek. “Hey! Stay awake. You have to stay awake.”

  I think I’m moving. Or someone is moving me. I blink my eyes open. The room, the people, everything is gone. I see cracks. Sidewalk cracks…and glossy zip-up boots.

  “Kate?” I garble out.

  A gush of air whooshes past my cheek. “You’re awake? Are you okay?” Something tightens around my waist. “Come on. I want you to sit.”

  If we sit, I think I miss the movement. Next thing I know, big brown eyes are gazing into mine. They flit back and forth to check my irises. She’s so close to my face.

  “You’re close to my face,” I blurt out.

  Her brow creases, and she runs a hand over my forehead. “I think you may have a concussion. You need to stay awake for me, okay?”

  I nod. Then my nostrils suddenly get filled with grass.

  “Come on, buddy. Sit up.” Arms reach out and pull my body upright. My forehead lands against hers, and I can’t tell if I’m slick with sweat, or if it’s her. But right now, all my brain can focus on is her lips.

  Her tongue just snaked out to run over them, making them glisten. She’s got a dimple in each corner of her mouth, not just the right. The right one is deeper, which is probably why I notice it more. But the left one is subtle…like a shadow. Her top lip is slightly larger than her bottom. Curved in a way that curves my nerves. Her teeth pull on that bottom lip as I stare.

  The world spins again.

  “Seth? Are you awake?” her lips say.

  I’m awake, maybe. It feels like I’m awake, but I’m not. I’m dreaming or something.

  “Say something, please.” Her voice comes out a bit frightened, and a wave of dizziness crashes over me.

  “You have really pretty lips.”

  And the world goes black.

  “Seth? Seth!”

  I have pretty lips?

  He’s out, his head resting on my shoulder. I’ve had three minor concussions over my high-school career so I know enough about them.

  “Is he okay? What’s going on?” Brit kneels next to me. Her eyes gloss over him, and then meet mine. “This is like our State run last year when that girl tackled you to the ground.”

  “Help me get him to the car, Brit.”

  It’s awkward as we make our way to Seth’s Corolla, since Brit’s naturally taller and she's wearing heels as high as mine tonight. So Seth’s right side is higher than his left. We’re trying our best to make sure his head doesn’t move too much.

  “What are you going to do, Kate? Take him to the hospital?”

  I reach around Seth’s body to the key fob I know is in his jeans pocket. I feel like I’m violating him, but there’s no other way to get into his car. Sliding my fingers into the fabric, I sneak along his leg and pull the key out as fast as I can. I can’t help but notice how toned his legs are. Like his abs. My fingers burn even though they’re touching his jeans, not his skin.

  I guess I’m not the only one blessed with good genes. Most guys would kill to have a body like Seth’s without having to do the work.

  Whoa, what?

  I shake my head, let out a breath, and press the button. With a beep, we’re opening the passenger door and laying Seth inside. I’m trying my best to get my thoughts off his toned legs and abs.

  As I grab his legs so I can close the door, he mumbles, “I’m so sorry, Kate. Ruined your party.”

  “No, no you didn’t, Seth.” I try to find his eyes, but they’re still closed. I look to Brit. “I have no idea where he lives, and I don’t want the first time I talk to his parents to be when I tell them he has a concussion because I forced him to come to this party. This is such a mess.” I tear the hairband off my wrist and throw my hair into a ponytail. These heels hurt and I hate this skirt. “I’m going to bring him to my house and see what my parents think.”

  Brit gives one nod. “You need me to help?”

  “Nah, I got it. Go back to the party.”

  Brit places both hands in her back pockets. “I’m over the party. Call me when…”

  I don’t hear the rest of what Brit says. Over her shoulder, Scott is walking toward us with a few other guys. Seth moans in his seat, eyes still closed, somewhere between unconscious and just barely here. I know Scott was drunk, that he didn’t mean to hurt Seth.

  I hope he didn’t mean to hurt him.

  Scott’s gaze meets mine. He’s swaying a little, a small smirk on his face. He doesn’t realize he could have seriously hurt Seth. “Kate, look—”

  Something inside me snaps. Emotions spike. “No, you look.” I stand straight and march toward Scott, jabbing my finger in his chest. “What is your problem?” Everyone’s eyes grow huge, their mouths drop. I’m only vaguely aware of the other classmates sprinting across the lawn.

  “You think because you’ve had a few drinks, because you’re drunk, you can shove someone around like that? Seth is the nicest guy at our school. He was just trying to keep you from spilling your booze all over me.” I almost say “feeling me up,” since his hand was hovering over my butt seconds before I met Seth’s eyes, but now I’ve said my peace, and I just want this over.

  “You will apologize to him when his brain unscrambles. And if there is any difference in his academic performance, so help me—you will be doing his work for the rest of the semester. Got it?”

  Scott’s head quivers like a bobble head, his eyes having problems focusing on mine. I spin on my heel to run to the driver’s seat; I’m shaking so badly, my mind swimming with thoughts and emotions.

  Brit wraps her hands around my shoulders. “You sure you’re okay to drive?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’ll call you.”

  I slide into the driver’s seat and send up a silent prayer of thanks that Seth and I drive the same kind of car. Adjust a few mirrors, let out a few large breaths, and we’re rolling down the street toward my house.

  “I’m so sorry, Seth,” I whisper, my eyes fixed on the road. His head is moving around too much with every turn I make, so I reach out and hold it still, my fingers disappearing in his shaggy, and admittedly sweaty, hair.

  I know Scott isn’t the brightest person. He’s the type of guy who acts before he thinks. But he
actually shoved Seth into a wall. And the look in his eyes before he did it was predatory…mean. What was going through his head?

  I glance at Seth, who looks rather peaceful despite the large bruise growing on his forehead. His hair is placed such a way that he would brush it off his forehead if he was conscious. And then it would fall back to where it rests right now. Part of me wants to smile at the visual playing through my brain, but I can’t. I’d give anything to take that bump off his head and put it on mine.

  I shouldn’t feel so guilty, but I do. I dragged him to a party I didn’t even want to go to.

  What in the world is wrong with me?

  I throw off my seatbelt when I reach my house and sprint through the front door. My family is sitting around the TV, watching some sort of Lifetime movie.

  “Dad, I need your help.” My breathing is fast, my voice an octave higher than normal. My parents immediately go into freak-out mode.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Mom jumps up, following Dad and me outside. My sisters trail behind, but remain in the doorframe.

  Mom gasps when I open the door and reveal Seth sitting in the passenger seat of his car.

  “Is he passed out?” Dad asks, his eyes narrowing.

  “He’s knocked out.” I hit myself in the head to emphasize my point. “I think he has a concussion.” I look at Mom. “What should we do?”

  Mom bends down and runs her hand over the bump on Seth’s head. “Has he woken up since the incident?”

  “Yes, he was conscious for a bit. For the drive, he’s been like this.” I throw my hands into my hair again. Out of all the guys at the party, why did this have to happen to Seth?

  “Who is this boy?” Dad asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Seth. My JJT friend.”

  Dad nods once, lips pinched.

  “Let’s get him inside and call his parents,” Mom says and looks to Dad to help us out.

  Dad reaches in and pulls Seth out of the car, carrying him through the door. Thankfully my father is a big guy, both in height and muscle. Seth’s arms hang down and his legs swing back and forth as Dad carefully gets him inside.

  “What happened?” Ginny asks as Dad lays Seth on the couch.

  “Not now, Ginny. Okay?” I shouldn’t be giving her this tone, but I’m on the verge of losing it.

  “Girls, please busy yourselves in the basement.” Dad dismisses them with a wave of his hand, and without question they both leave. Or they pretend to. I’m sure they’re listening at the top of the stairs.

  “Here’s some ice. Where’s his cell phone?” Mom asks, her tone even, calm. I try to focus on how she’s dealing with everything. I know Seth is going to be okay. I’ve had three concussions, and I’m fine. But it’s the guilt—the fact that if it weren’t for me, his brains wouldn’t be mush right now.

  “I think Seth’s phone is in his pocket,” I say, gesturing to it with my eyes. Mom stands with her hand out. Since Seth is out cold, I have to fish in his pockets again. In front of my mother.

  “Sorry, Seth,” I whisper as I rest my hand on his shoulder, which is covered by a black hoodie jacket. Must be the one he wears for nicer occasions. I slide my hand into his pocket to get the cell, my fingers getting warm, the heat spreading through my cheeks. My worry mixed with the embarrassment has tears building in my eyes.

  As I hand it to Mom she asks, “What’s Seth’s Mom’s name?”

  “Uh…Mrs. McPherson.”

  Mom gives a nod and walks into the kitchen.

  I sit down next to the couch by Seth’s head and lay the icepack over the bump. “I’m so, so sorry,” I say again as I turn the black string from his jacket in my fingers, like he does when he’s nervous—like I did outside the auditorium a few weeks ago.

  I hear Mom by the counter in the kitchen. “Hi, yes. Is this Mrs. McPherson? Yeah, hi. You don’t know me, but I’m Mrs. Ryan, Kate’s Mom. A girl from school.” There’s a small pause. “Oh, you do know me.” A slight uncomfortable laugh. “Well, thank you. Yes, we’re quite proud of her. Well, the reason I’m calling is Seth has had a bit of an accident. He’s fine,” she says quickly. “We’re making sure he’s comfortable…”

  Seth moans and moves his head around, eyes finally opening. It takes a few seconds for them to focus, but finally they land on me.

  “Hi,” I whisper, trying my best to squelch the fear and worry.

  “Hi,” he says and forces his gaze to my hand holding the icepack on his head. “What happened?”

  “Your head met a wall. The wall won.”

  He tries to nod and hisses through his teeth. Seeing him in pain rips through my stomach, and tears escape my eyes. I might actually throw up.

  “I took care of Scott.” I’m still whispering, though I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I know my sisters are listening or that I don’t know where my father ended up. Or maybe it’s because Seth’s head is injured, and I don’t want to be the cause of any more pain.

  Seth’s forehead scrunches. He searches my face. “Did you practice your stage punch and miss?”

  I snort, which is all I can manage. “No, I didn’t take care of him very well. Just said what was on my mind. Pretty sure I scared everyone in our class.”

  “I doubt that,” Seth mumbles, then looks down at the upholstery. “Did I say…before I passed out…did I say something about your lips?”

  This time I actually laugh. I place the hand not holding the icepack on Seth’s arm and try not to focus on how toned that feels as well. “You did say something about them being pretty, yes.” My smile falters. “Which I didn’t deserve after all the trouble I got you in.”

  “Stop.” The wrinkles on his head disappear. “Scott did this, not you.”

  I’ve never heard Seth talk with such conviction. There is nothing he wants more right now than for me to show him I agree. So I do.

  “You’re right. I still feel bad that one of the few parties you go to, you wind up with a bump on your head and puking in Suzi’s house.”

  “I puked?”

  I nod, my nose crinkling.

  “Great,” he says.

  “Seth?” Mom says from over my shoulder. “Hi, I’m Kate’s mom. This is Kate’s dad.” She points at my father standing in the corner of the family room. How long has he been there? “I got hold of your mom and she’s on her way. How are you feeling?”

  “O-Okay,” Seth says and reaches to take the icepack from me. I didn’t remember I was still holding it there.

  “Can I get you anything?” Mom asks.

  I should have asked him that. But no, I sit here holding an icepack to his head and feeling sorry for myself. I am so horrible at this. My friend is hurting and I’m useless.

  Seth shakes his head, his cheeks getting red, spreading up to his ears. I pull my legs into my chest and rest my chin on my knees. Seth’s eyes get big and dart away.

  Crap, I’m in a skirt.

  I drop my legs so they’re even with the floor.

  “Sorry,” I whisper, my cheeks now as red as Seth’s. I’m really not helping.

  I jump when Dad squeezes my shoulder. “Before bed, we’re going to talk.”

  “Yup,” I say, without looking at him, without looking at Seth. I’m really just looking at the lamp in the corner.

  Both Dad and Mom leave the room.

  Seth’s head is bruised because of a fight. He’s at some strange house. I just flashed him when all he wants to do is pass out.

  “Pretty sure your mom is never going to let you hang out with me again,” I say, searching for how Seth really feels in his gray eyes.

  “You’re the one who took care of me.” Again, redness spreads through his skin. Is it embarrassment? Because of me, or because of the fight? Anyone—even if they were a large football player—would need help if their head had been thrown into a wall.

  “Maybe we should stick to Jamba Juice and theater, huh? Safer that way.” I force a smile.

  Seth’s eyes drift from mine. “Yea
h, I guess so.” He’s probably wishing I’d gotten the hint the first few times I asked him to hang out with me.

  About ten minutes later, Seth’s mom arrives. Cute little thing. Same brown hair as Seth’s, but she shares her blue eyes with the baby in the car seat hooked on her arm.

  It appears she doesn’t hate me, even stays for a few minutes so I can properly introduce myself. Still, I’m sure the next time Kate Ryan’s name comes up, Seth’s mom will think twice about agreeing to whatever adventure we’ve got planned, if Seth does want another adventure…which I doubt. But at least by the time I’ve said goodbye and closed the door, it appears as though there aren’t any hard feelings about the night’s events.

  “Kate, my office please.” Dad walks down the hall and disappears. I share a look with Mom, who motions with her head that I should get moving.

  “Close the door,” Dad says when I enter. I do and take a seat on the futon. It’s not much of an office, more like a space for Dad to go when he has to bring work home and get away from the females. Just secondhand furniture and a computer.

  Dad rests his elbows on his desk, his head on his hands. “Before I say anything, I’d like you to tell me everything.”

  So I do. I tell him about the people who were at the party and the drinks that were served. I say how I talked to several people and then Scott found me. Then I talk about how Seth asked me to dance and Scott flipped out. It ended with him throwing Seth into a wall.

  “I didn’t know what to do, so I brought him here,” I finish.

  Dad’s eyes haven’t left mine, he hasn’t even moved. I’m so glad I didn’t lie to him about the party.

  “I feel so bad, Dad. Seth didn’t even want to go. He went because I asked him to.”

  Dad gets up and sits next to me on the futon, reaches out and pulls me into his shoulder. I let every muscle relax.

  “I’m so proud of you, Kate.” My reaction to this statement is to sit upright in surprise, but he’s holding on too tightly for me to move. “I’m glad you trust us enough to come to us for help. Seth is lucky he’s got a friend like you.”