THE TROUBLE WITH KISSING YOU

by Gen Phan

  "Mike! Don't be rude."

  "Rude!" I was aware that I'd raised my voice now, "Do you know what's rude? Making me move without even asking. Telling me to move when I don't want to. Well, I don't want to fucking move, okay. I am not moving."

  The estate agent blinked her eyes, as if she'd never heard such a thing before.

  "Perhaps I should leave you two to discuss this,"

  "Perhaps you should just leave. Full stop." I hissed at her and she almost ran out the door.

  My mom sighed and it looked like she was about to cry again and I felt like a total dick for screaming at her. "Mom. I'm sorry. It's just... it was a shock and –"

  "Your father is seeing someone else." She just blurted it out. No warning. No preamble. No nothing leaden up to that bomb.

  "WHAT?!"

  "Lets sit." She gestured to the table and I sat opposite her watching as she stared out of the window with a kind of hauntingly vacant look on her face. Where had my mother gone? She seemed to be disappearing in front of my eyes.

  A tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek like it was all happening in slow motion. I felt my heart break for her.

  "I'm sorry I shouted." I offered, not knowing what else to do. I felt so powerless. Helpless.

  She shook her head and forced a stoic smile at me. "It's okay. You're angry and confused. I understand."

  I smiled back at her and we both just landed up looking at each other for the longest time.

  "It wasn't as mutual as I told you it was." She finally broke the silence, " I just didn't want you to know, but you're an adult and I guess you're going to find out soon enough."

  I was stunned. I couldn't believe that I was hearing this. This was not a conversation that I ever imagined having with anyone, let alone my mother. Discussing my father's infidelity. You know how you can't help staring at a car crash, your eyes are drawn to it even though you know you should look away, but you're incapable of doing so. Well, my mother and I were in that car crash right now. We'd just driven head on into a wall and it was only a matter of time before people started to stare.

  "Who? How long?" My voice sounds desperate and layered with emotion.

  She shook her head. "I haven't asked. I don't want to know."

  I put my head into my hands and the weight caused my elbows to dig into the hard wooden table.

  "Bastard." I muttered.

  "He's still your father."

  Father? This wasn't what fathers were supposed to do. Fathers are supposed to live with their families. They're not supposed to cheat on their wives. No, the man that I had once called my father was gone. He'd been my hero when I was younger, I'd wanted to be exactly like him, but now... I never wanted to see him again.

  "I don't ever want to see him again. Not after this. Not after cheating on you."

  "He still loves you, this has nothing to do with you. He just doesn't love me anymore." Another tear rolled down her cheek and I reached across the table and grabbed her by the hand. I squeezed it hard.

  "It's okay mom. We can move. We'll be okay."

  Maria

  I didn't hear from Mike for the rest of the day. Which was weird. We were usually in constant communication somehow. Phone, via head -through -bedroom -window, sign language across the grass or even shooting M&M's as each others windows with a sling shot- a game that had become very popular a couple of years ago.

  It was pm and I was starting to worry, so I walked over to my window and opened it. His light was still on and I could see a faint shadow moving across the wall. So he was there, and awake. So why the hell hadn't he gotten hold of me? I grabbed my phone and called him, it went straight to voice mail. Also odd. Very odd.

  I reached under my bed and brought out my pellet gun (yeah, we'd graduated from sling shots ages ago) The soft plastic pellets don't smash glass or anything but they did cause enough of a noise to let the other person know.

  I aimed and hit first time. I smiled. I'm such a shit hot shot. Like that chick from the Westerns, I forget her name, but for a second I imagined myself as a gun slinging out-law bandit. Or Lara Croft, jungle ruin bashing with a gun. There was something very appealing about that thought.

  I saw his hand creep round the curtain, a face soon followed. I waved at him and wrote something on a piece of paper before sticking it up against the window.

  "You okay?"

  I saw him reach for the binoculars, (we have this long distance communication thing covered!) He pulled away, presumably writing.

  "Shit day."

  "Sorry."

  "Feet hurt."

  ":("

  "Tired. Bed. Bye. "

  We waved at each other and closed the curtains. I felt bad for him, this divorce must be hectic. I tried to imagine what it would feel like if my parents got divorced, and then an idea hit me. I went over to my computer and Googled.

  How to help a friend cope with divorce.

  Crap tons of stuff jumped onto my screen and I started reading through it. I must have read for about an hour when an email notification caught my attention.

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Crappy day.

  Message: So I have this idea. It goes something like this, I'm having the worst day, and I suspect you can help make it better.

  Mike X

  From: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Interesting

  Message: And how can I make it better?

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: As easy as , ,

  Message: Well...

  , you tell me who you are.

  I drive over there right now

  , we pick up where we left off.

  Mike XX

  From: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject:

  Message: , or we could just talk

  Your mystery kisser XXX

  There was a really long wait and I slid my chair back and surreptitiously looked out my window to see what Mike was doing, from here I could just see the top of his shoulder and it looked like he was sitting at his computer. The movement of his shoulder told me that he was typing. And so I waited, for what felt like forever.

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: it is then.

  Message: I'll take it. So...My parents are getting divorced and I just found out my dad has been cheating on my mom and now we are moving house. I came home today from school and there was some self tanned estate agent there called Pam who was picking at our house like a vulture. And my mother is an emotional wreck. She broke down today crying and told me everything; that my dad has been cheating, that she didn't want to get divorced. She's been crying all day, she's crying now, she just doesn't think I can hear her, but I can.

  And I screamed at her for the first time ever today and I feel terrible, and shitty and selfish. Like a bad son, and I want to be there for her, but I don't know how to. And I want someone to be there for me, but it doesn't feel like anyone is. I feel so lame, I'm and I feel like a kid that just wants his mom to hug him and make him feel better, but she cant. And I hate my dad right now and never want to see him again. Or I want to punch him. (FUCK, I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M TELLING YOU ALL THIS) What's wrong with me?

  Mike XXXX

  WTF?

  I read it at least three more times to make sure I was seeing correctly. Mr. Matthews was cheating. Mr. Matthews, old Mr. Matthews, Mike's dad was having sex with someone else other than Mrs. Mathews.

  I couldn't type for a moment as I imagine how that was even possible. It's hard enough to imagine your parents having sex with each other, let alone with other people.

  And Mike was moving- now! As in, an estate agent was at their house, today!

  The news hit me so hard in the gut that I felt sick and wanted to jump out my window and run over to his house immediately. I didn't want him to move.

  Mike wasn't the only one having a bad day today, so was I. God, I feel like a selfish cow for even thinking that.

&
nbsp; My primary thought should be trying to be there for Mike and helping him through this. I wished I could take the pain away. I re read his last sentence ten times, and each time a part of my heart broke for him. Nothing was wrong with him.

  And then I lied again. Does the end really justify the means? This would be the second time I'd lied to Mike in the last week and in ten years I'd never lied to him. Well, there was that omission I guess which some might say could be construed as a lie. But this was different. It was so blatant.

  Google Search: What it feels like when your parents get divorced?

  From: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: In the same boat

  Message: There's nothing wrong with you! My parents also got divorce. Two years ago. I was also really angry, with both of them. And I lashed out a lot, it's normal to do that. And trust me, your mom understands, even if she's wrapped up in her own grief right now, she understands- she knows you didn't really mean it.

  No one cheated or anything, but it wasn't the most amicable split you could say. So I know how you feel right now. And I promise it does get better, it may not seem like it now, but it gets better. My mom is in a new relationship and she has never been happier and it has actually improved our relationship too. Mike, human beings are the most adaptable creatures on the planet, and you will adapt. And you will feel better, coping with divorce is a process. And you have to go with it, because there's nothing you can do to fix it, even if you want to.

  I'm so sorry. There is nothing wrong with you or the way you are feeling.

  Your mystery kisser XXXX

  A part of me felt sick that I'd just wrote that to him, but when I got his response, I knew it was the right thing to do under the circumstance.

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: :)

  Message: Thanks. I feel so much better already. Just knowing that you've been through it and it gets better. Thanks. Talking to you, even though we're not really talking, makes me feel so much better. You're the medicine I need right now.

  Mike XXXXXX

  From: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: :) :) :)

  Message: I'm glad. I'm here for you.

  Your mystery kisser XXXXXXX

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: No more X's

  Message: Why are we sending each other typed X's, when they could be real X's?

  From: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: X's

  Message: For now cyber X's will have to do.

  Your mystery kisser XXXXXXXXX

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Well in that case...

  Message: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  I smiled and blushed and felt instantly girly and giggly. I'd never felt this giggly girly before- it was unfamiliar- but nice. But I also felt like I was getting myself into something that was going to be so hard to get out of. I was falling deeper and deeper into this tangled web, and deeper in love with Mike.

  I climbed into bed with mixed feelings about this thing. But then a thought hit me, why hadn't Mike told me this first? The real me anyway. Instead he'd told a stranger. He's never told anyone something before me. My phone lit up with a message and I grabbed it, obviously Mike was going to tell me now.

  But it was Jarrod.

  Jarrod: Hey, you want to do something after school tomorrow?

  The tangled web was getting deeper. I had a bad feeling about this and suddenly I wished I could take back the lie to Mike, even if it had made him feel better. Shit!

  What was I doing?

  Mike

  "I'm telling you Brett, she's perfect."

  "Perfect? Is there such a thing?"

  "Well, put it this way, she's perfect for me. She even knows what I'm going through, with the divorce."

  "Really?" Brett stopped walking and looked genuinely surprised. "How?"

  "Her folks went through it about years ago."

  "They did, did they?" Brett didn't sound convinced.

  "I know what you're thinking Brett but-"

  "NO!" Brett stopped me with a hand to my chest, "Trust me, you have NO idea what I'm thinking right now."

  "What does that mean-"

  "Yo!" I felt a sudden and very hard slap on the back. It was Chase, and Tyler wasn't far behind either. They always seemed to travel in pairs. Or in a pack when the others where around, and wherever the pack went, a sting of girls usually followed too in an almost hormone induced daze.

  "You feeling ready for tomorrow?" Chase asked with a fat smile. It didn't take a psychologist to know that that smile was as fake as Emmy's mothers breasts.

  I smiled back. Fake too. "Totally. You guys?" It felt like we were doing some stupid male posturing thing, and judging by the look that washed over Brett's face, he thought so too. He looked positively disguised by the male pissing contest.

  "How's that second serve of yours hey?" Tyler asked in a mocking tone. It was my one weakness. And right now, with the scout coming, it was all about exploiting each other's weaknesses.

  "You'll just have to wait and see won't you!" I smiled back at them both and they did the same. But behind my smile I was thinking, 'I'm going to wipe the fucking court with you both'. They were probably thinking the same thing.

  Chase turned his attention to Brett now. "You should come knock some balls around with us sometime buddy...." And then he did the unthinkable. He patted his stomach and gestured to Brett's. And with that, they both turned around and swaggered off down the corridor.

  "Sorry about that." I turned to apologize to Brett, but he just shrugged. He always shrugged it off, but no one could be that OK with stuff like that. Not even Brett.

  "No worries, just fuck them both up tomorrow for me and win that trophy."

  "Done!" I said as the bell rang and we both rushed off in opposite directions.

  **

  I stood at the baseline with a basket of balls and hit serve after serve after serve. I needed to practice my second serve; it wasn't as consistent as it should be. But then, I barely had to use it, because when my first serve went in, it was deadly. I've seen it push players so far off the baseline that they basically ran into the fence. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I had trained so hard, for so many years and I knew I had this. I had been building up to this moment my whole life and I had never felt better- I think my mystery mint kisser might have had something to do with that.

  I had a thought as I watched a perfectly placed sliced serve skid across the court. I stopped, wiped the sweat from my fingers on my shorts and pulled out my phone.

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Lucky charm

  Message: So since you're at the same school as me, I guess you know there is a really important tennis tournament on tomorrow? I was wondering if you would come and watch? I'd feel so much better if I knew you were there.

  X

  I stood looking at my phone, waiting for that beep, but minutes passed and it didn't come. I hoped she wasn't ignoring me? I wondered how many times I had passed her in the corridor today. There was something quite cool about that thought, she knew who I was, but I didn't know who she was. I wondered if she had watched me today at all.

  Still no message, so I slipped it back into my shorts and picked up where I left off. Each serve was getting better and better, their consistency and placement. And by the time I had collected all the balls for the second time, I decided that I was confident enough to leave. As I grabbed my bag and started walking out the gate, my phone beeped. I grabbed it out of my pocket and slid my finer across the screen -

  Hey son, Just wanted to say that I'll see you at your match tomorrow. I know you're going to be great. And then maybe after we can go out for dinner? I would really like to chat to you. Love Dad

  I wanted to get sick. This was the first time he'd spoken to me since he'd apparently moved out a few days ago. "Moved out", aren't you supposed to know
when one of your parents has moved out? They're not supposed to just NOT come home. Fuck him! I didn't want him there and I was not going for dinner with him. He didn't even deserve a reply, so I shoved the phone back into my pocket. But when it beeped seconds later, I ripped it out ready to let lose and let him know exactly how I felt, but....

  From: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Lucky charm accepts

  Message: Of course I'll be there.

  Thoughts of my father faded away instantly.

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Lucky man

  Message: So if I win, do I get a prize?

  From: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: A prize...

  Message: What kind of prize were you hoping for?

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Dinner!

  Message: Let me take you out to dinner afterwards.

  From: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Don't push your luck

  I smiled. I kind of knew she was going to say that. But I wasn't going to let up, I was going to make her agree to meet me, come hell or high water.

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Meet me in Paris?

  Message: I want to dance with you under the Eiffel tower.

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Cryptic?

  Message: Is that a riddle?

  To: Yourmysterykisser@gmail.com

  Subject: Ah-HA

  Message: Okay, so I know you're not on the school dance committee, or else you would have got that. (French themed dance, remember?) I'm starting to narrow it down now, maybe I'll find you sooner rather than later! X