Who I Kissed

by Janet Gurtler

  “Whoa. And I thought it was just a bunch of guys jumping around,” I joke.

  “I’m serious, Sam. I’m going to work hard at it. So if I’m in a position where someone needs my help again, I’ll be ready.”

  I nod. Think of what Chloe and I are working on.

  Zee flips on the turn signal, and my heart double dips when I see we’re going into a graveyard. He drives for a minute and then parks and turns off the light. “You okay with this?”

  I slowly nod, suspecting why we’re there.

  “I want you to meet my friend,” he says.

  Tears heat up my eyes, but I blink them away. Zee gets out of the car, and I slide out too. He comes over and takes my hand. He’s formal and serious, and we don’t speak as we walk, but he holds my hand tight. The night air is cold but it doesn’t penetrate our hands.

  We don’t go far when Zee stops. We’re standing in front of a grave with a modest gravestone. There are lots of fresh flowers lying around it. I want to cry so much, but I hold it in as best I can. I want to be brave for both of them.

  “Alex,” Zee says, and his deep voice shakes on the second syllable. He takes a deep breath. “How’s it going, dude?”

  He pauses, and I fight the sting of unshed tears and the tickly scratch in the back of my throat.

  “I think you remember Samantha.” He lifts my hand in the air.

  “Hi, Alex,” I say solemnly.

  He drops our hands down. “I wish you got the chance to know her better. She’s pretty awesome. But the thing is, Alex. I kind of like her too.” He stops and takes a big breath. “And clearly I am much better looking. And a better date too. Especially now.”

  I pull my hand away and smack him on the arm.

  “Alex and I understand each other,” he says but doesn’t look at me. He keeps his eyes on the tombstone. He holds a hand up to his ear as if he’s listening to something. “Alex agrees.”

  He smiles but lowers his hand and stares solemnly at the grave. His lips turn down and his eyes soften. Then he rubs his teeth over his bottom lip and blows out though his nose. My heart gets heavy, and sadness clogs up my lungs.

  “You’re my best friend.” Zee wipes under an eye and then takes a deep breath and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a package. I glance down. It’s a Hot Wheels car.

  He bends to his knee and leans forward to place the package on a free spot in front of the tombstone. The yellow printing on the bright blue packaging almost glows in the night air, backlit by the lights at the graveyard entrance.

  “GM Lean Machine from 1991. Rare,” Zee says from where he’s kneeling. “Alex was obsessed with finding this car. I searched and searched for it on eBay, and it finally showed up the day the autopsy report came in. It arrived in the mail today.”

  I can’t say anything because if I do, I know I’ll cry. Instead I bend my head and swallow back the sadness. Zee stays kneeling for a moment. And then he puts his hands on the ground and pushes himself up. He stands straight and bows his head. “I miss you,” he says.

  And then in a minute he spins on his heels and takes my hand again. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  We don’t speak again as we walk back to the car.

  He pops the door for me and we get inside at the same time.

  “Thanks for coming. You might think it was weird. But I needed to do it,” he says.

  “It wasn’t weird.”

  He leans across the console between us. So close I can see stubble on his chin. I wonder if he shaves, and the picture of it makes me giggle inappropriately.

  “You’re laughing at me?” he asks softly.

  “No. I’m just nervous,” I admit.

  “Me too,” he says. And then he leans even closer and kisses me.

  And as my head melts in a puddle of dizziness, I finally understand what all the fuss is about.

  He pulls back and smiles and reaches into his pocket again. “This one is for you.”

  He tosses over an industrial size bag of Jelly Bellys. I grin and rip it open with my teeth. “You want some?”

  He holds out his hand and I fill it.

  ***

  TADITA TIMES

  By Lainoza Hughes

  Local Titan swimmers Zee MacLean and Taylor Landy took three gold medals each at last weekend’s state swim finals in Seattle. Samantha Waxman also scored gold in the short Freestyle and set a Pacific Northwest swimming record. All three swimmers will be heading to Florida to compete in the USA Swimming National Championship.

  Coach Clair O’Reilly said MacLean and Waxman have been accepted at Berkeley on full swim scholarships. Landy is planning to attend Washington State.

  Upon receiving their medals, Waxman and MacLean dedicated them to Alex Waverly, a promising baseball player who died at 17 years of age earlier in the year from complications due to asthma.

  a note from the author

  This story is a work of fiction. Which of course means I made it up.

  The idea for this story came about because my son suffers from a peanut allergy and also from asthma. Which may sound kind of creepy given what happens to Alex in my story, but I talked to my son when I decided to write this book. We discussed awareness. And the fact that like Alex, he always has to be careful. Always. I want nothing more than for him to be safe. That’s why it’s so important to carry EpiPens. And inhalers for asthmatics.

  In North America, many, many school kids have to deal with deadly food allergies. And yes, I’ve heard and understand the thought behind the other side of the peanut butter story. Parents who are put off by the inconvenience of supplying nut-free lunches and snacks every day at school. “My kid will only eat PB and J sandwiches,” is something I’ve heard before.

  Well. It is an inconvenience. I’m sorry you might need to find something else for your child to eat at school, but I feel fortunate that my son goes to a peanut-free school. I would really like my son to be alive after lunch period. I want him to live a long, long time. And I’m sure no one wants their child to be responsible for someone else’s anaphylactic reaction. That’s a lot of guilt for a food choice.

  A reaction is a worst-case scenario. Yes. It is. But there are some children (and adults) who really are that allergic. Some who can get very sick from breathing the smell or touching the hand of a child who’s been eating peanuts. Are we willing to risk it?

  And so, the question: can someone with a food allergy die from kissing someone who has eaten that allergen? I don’t know. I certainly hope not. But it has to be possible. While writing Who I Kissed, I heard a number of stories from people who had experienced anaphylactic shock from second-hand contact with an allergen.

  When I recently had my son retested for allergies, his allergist informed me that a vaccine for the peanut allergy is being developed. I don’t know how close the vaccine is, but I hope it comes to fruition. I hope that this story never becomes a reality.

  acknowledgments

  First of all, I have to thank my favorite son, Max, for allowing me to make up a story based on something that he has to deal with on a daily basis: allergies and asthma. Max also introduced me to the fascinating world of competitive swimming and what it’s like to be a swim mom. Maxwell is a great beam of light on this earth, and I hope he shines for a long, long time.

  And of course, thanks to all the wonderful people at Sourcebooks who helped bring this story to life. My lovely editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, for giving the go-ahead to write the story and helping me to shape it. I love being a part of the Sourcebooks family and thank Dominique Raccah, Todd Stocke, Kay Mitchell, Derry Wilkins, Aubrey Poole, Kristin Zelazko, and Kelly Barrales-Saylor. Also, thanks to Sean Murray and everyone else on the sales team I haven’t met, the wonderful cover designers, and the many people behind the scenes who helped bring this book to life. Special thanks also
to my agent, Jill Corcoran, for always looking after me and my stories.

  I’d also like to thank Todd Melton, Head Coach of the amazing Foothills Stingrays Swim Club in Okotoks, Alberta, for sharing his thoughts and his tangible passion for swimming with me (and my son). For sharing swim lingo and reminding me that going back after a break would feel “like ass.” Also, thanks to swim coaches Thomas South (for 1984) and Emma Hesterman, who make FSSC the best swim club around. And for giving me a few writing ideas too.

  Special thanks to Denise Jaden and Jennifer Laugherty for reading this story in the early phases and helping me find my way. Also, thanks to Kate Messner for words of wisdom about journalism ethics. Thanks to Taryn Albright for helping me understand the way the US swim circuit works. Thanks to Laura Hughes and the contribution of her special name, Lainoza.

  Lastly, thanks to my husband, Larry, who supports my quirky habits and loves our son just as fiercely as I do. And for always remembering to ask if we have the EpiPen packed.

  about the author

  Janet Gurtler lives in Calgary, Canada, deliciously close to the Canadian Rockies, with her husband, her son, and a chubby Chihuahua named Bruce, who looks suspiciously like Fredrick. Janet loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janetgurtler.com. You can also find her on Facebook or follow her on Twitter @janetgurtler.