Kiss and Break Up

by Ella Fields

  “Watch your mouth.”

  “Why? Not my fault you’ve never been a fan of honesty.”

  Her hands flew into the air, the books and jeans she’d been collecting from my bedroom floor falling back to the floor in a heap. “I don’t even know where you came from.”

  “Let’s not talk about such nasty shit before dinner, thanks.”

  With a growl, she stomped out of the room.

  Grabbing the basketball from beside my bed, I tossed it at the door hard enough to make it close.

  “Slam dunk, motherfucker.” I restarted the game and waited to be teleported back to the lobby. “Finally,” I said, seeing Peggy’s username pop up.

  I started a chat and typed out a message.

  F*ckoffandie666: Yo, yo, Frecks. Where you been??

  Her character wandered around in circles, sword bared, then stopped as she responded.

  PegSue12: napping

  She didn’t even ask how I was, so far up her own curvaceous ass she was.

  I frowned, scratching my face for a beat. She liked to nap, sure, but that was her answer for everything these past four days. Since the party.

  F*ckoffandie666: sounds positively riveting

  She didn’t respond, and we played a few rounds before her silence finally got the better of me and I shut the game off.

  She was upset, and though I knew it had everything to do with her feeling embarrassed about what’d happened with Byron, I was sick of it. She’d never stayed upset about anything this long before. Even when her grandparents had died, she’d at least spoken to me.

  I got up, combed my fingers through my hair, checked my teeth, and threw on a clean shirt and my leather jacket before grabbing the keys to my Rover.

  I parked in the narrow dirt lane near the creek that sat behind her tiny house, spinning my keys around my finger as I strolled past her neighbor’s fence to their unfenced yard.

  I pocketed my keys and slid the window open, then I jumped up and dived onto her bed.

  “Oh my God, watch it!”

  My eyes popped out of my head when I tried to find purchase and felt something large, soft, and … shit. Her tit.

  Christ.

  She started whacking at my chest, and my dick stiffened. I froze, then quickly pulled my hand away and rolled over. “My bad. Jesus. Calm down.”

  Peggy

  “A little warning would’ve been nice,” I said.

  “Warnings make life boring. But hey, your tits are kind of nice.”

  I got up and stomped out of the room to put on the bra that had been hanging over my desk chair.

  When I returned, Dash was studying me, running a finger over his brow with his other arm tucked behind his head. “So I’m done with this weird-ass mopey behavior.”

  “I’m not being mopey,” I said, righting my shirt. “I’m mortified. There’s a difference.”

  And in just over a week’s time, we’d be back at school, where I’d be forced to live this embarrassment down. To be honest, I wished it’d hurry up so we could get it over with.

  “Come on. You’ve been embarrassed plenty of times before. Remember that time in seventh grade gym?”

  It’d replayed vividly in my head for months afterward whenever I’d gotten my period. “This isn’t the same as getting your first period and having your best friend shout, Dear God, who left the beetroot on the fucking chair?”

  He spun his hand. “You’re welcome.”

  “Beetroot? In the gym? Beetroot is purple.”

  “Like they even noticed. They were too busy laughing.”

  I groaned. “Yeah, at me.”

  “For thinking you’d sat in beetroot, not bled all over your gym shorts.”

  “Ugh, be quiet.”

  He mimicked me, then laughed when I tossed a sneaker at his head. It missed and bounced off the wall. “You’re a psycho, Freckles.” He patted the bed. “Come, tell me all your girl-tastic problems. Let’s get this shit aired so we can go back to being the gun-slinging duo everyone loves to fear.”

  I raised a brow. “Girl-tastic?”

  “You are a girl, last I saw.” He waggled those thick brows. “And felt.”

  My eyes went wide. “Ew.”

  “Is the thought of me seeing you naked really so bad?”

  “It ranks high on the bad scale, for sure.” Though, thankfully, it’d been some time since that’d accidentally happened.

  He mock gasped. “I’m deeply offended.”

  “Pegs, have you taken my push-up bra?” Mom called, halting in the doorway with her fluffy purple dressing gown on. “Oh, hey Dash. How’s your mom?”

  “Still a superficial bitch, thanks for asking.”

  I could feel my cheeks tinge as Mom looked at me, waiting.

  Dash snorted.

  “Uh, yeah. I wore it last weekend to the party.” I started digging through my hamper, which was only half full due to hanging at home since the sneeze that’d dampened my spirits and ruined a chance at, I don’t know, something.

  “It’s dirty?” Mom made a whining sound. “Never mind. I’ll buy another one with my next paycheck.” She stabbed a finger at me when I straightened, her lace yellow bra dangling from my finger. “Keep it. But don’t touch this new one.”

  Then she was gone, the pipes groaning as she shut the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

  “That would drive me insane.”

  “What, sharing a bra with your mom?”

  He pursed his lips. “That too. But I was referring to the old pipes.”

  “Used to it,” I said, dropping the bra and dumping myself on the bed.

  “This party, the kiss that almost happened, it’s really gotten to you, huh?”

  His tone wasn’t mocking, and for that reason alone, I nodded, staring at the yellow paint on my toenails. “Yeah.”

  “But why?” He seemed genuinely perplexed.

  “It’s just …”

  “Speak, Freckles.”

  I swallowed down my pride. He’d seen me far worse and had heard far worse than what I was about to admit. “I feel so inexperienced. I’ll be eighteen next month, and I don’t care that I’m still a virgin. But I thought …” My cheeks billowed with a loud exhale.

  He prodded. “You thought?”

  My shoulders drooped. “That I would’ve had some other, um, well, encounters by now.”

  “What, like covering the other bases?”

  I nodded, unable to look at him. “I came so close,” I whispered. “So close to finally feeling like I could have what everyone else seems to have, or is doing, and then—”

  “You sneezed your boogers all over him.” I slapped his thigh, and he groaned through a burst of laughter. “Just messing with you. Fuck.”

  “For once in your life, can you not be a dick and be serious with me for a moment?” I was as shocked as he was at the half-shouted words and tried to calm my erratic breathing. “Sorry, I—”

  “You’re not sorry, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” He sat up, scooting close until the scent of his aftershave reached me, calming some of my frayed emotions. “You’re worried, but you shouldn’t be.”

  “Why?” I said, noticing his lashes were really kind of long.

  “Because most guys aren’t going to care how inexperienced you are. Especially not the right one.” He coughed, and I watched his lips roll together.

  I sniffed, sighing.

  “But you know, if you really want to boost your confidence, you can always practice.”

  “Don’t you dare bring up the Nick Jonas poster.”

  He raised his hands. “Didn’t even have to.”

  I went to get up because I needed some chocolate stat, but he caught my wrist and tugged me back down. “You should practice with someone.”

  My brows shot high. “What, kissing?” His lip slid between his teeth as he nodded. I scoffed. “Right, and with who? The one chance I had ran away from me.”

  “With me.”

  “
What?” The buzzing outside my window ceased, and the shower shut off, drenching the world in silence. I searched his deep blue gaze. “You’re telling me I should make out with you?”

  “Who better?” He spread his hands. “I won’t judge, and even if I do, it stays with us. It’s safe, and we both know I’ll be a good teacher.”

  I couldn’t contain my shock any longer, and so I got up, laughing as a cloud of confusion followed me out of my room. “Very funny.”

  Dash

  Very funny.

  I didn’t think so.

  Those words, the nonchalant way she’d let them roll off her tongue with her wind-chime laughter, had ripped through me like an unseen serrated knife.

  “Back up,” Lars said. “No, no, no. You fuckhead.” He tossed his controller, falling back against the couch as Raven snickered, leveling up.

  Church, my black Scottish Fold, had somehow crept inside the pool house and was rubbing up against my ankles. “Who let Church in?”

  Lars lit a blunt, exhaling a plume of smoke while eyeing my cat. “Fuck if I know.”

  “Who cares?” Raven, or Rave, as we called him, said.

  “I fucking care.” I stabbed out my cigarette, waving the smoke away from Church’s direction, then bent forward to pick him up and set him beside me on the recliner. “No smoking around the cat. His lungs aren’t as heavy duty as ours.”

  “Aw, you big fucking sweetheart.” Lars ashed into an empty bowl beside him.

  “Pussy-whipped.” Rave laughed, reaching for his drink while he had a lull.

  I threw my boot at him, and it hit the can in his hand. Beer sprayed over his face and rained down the leather chair, leaving a puddle on the floor beside the dented can.

  “Seriously?” Rave raised a brow, his empty hand still poised at his mouth.

  I didn’t bother responding, satisfied when I saw someone shoot his ass dead on the screen.

  “Mother of fuck.” He scrambled for the controller.

  Lars chuckled, staring off into space.

  Very funny.

  Two words had never bothered me so damn much. She’d rejected me. Her best friend. The only guy she was comfortable around enough to be wholly herself.

  And she’d fucking rejected me.

  Laughed at me.

  Then walked away from me.

  I was so pissed, so unexpectedly thrown by her response and the weird stabbing sensation that cut at the insides of my chest, that I’d climbed out her bedroom window and gone home before she even came back to her room.

  Then I’d texted Ruthie Brooks, which was a bad fucking idea. The chick was apparently on the rebound something fierce, but I needed my cock in someone’s mouth. I needed to numb the waves of rejection that wouldn’t quit crashing into me.

  And most of all, I needed to remember who I damn well was.

  Which was reinforced when Ruthie had called and told me to meet her at her place after eleven when her parents had passed out. I came home feeling better. Offing a load always makes one feel better, but I still wasn’t feeling like myself.

  And I still didn’t want to talk to Peggy.

  I was mad, and I knew I was acting like some petulant chick, but come on. If you can’t kiss your best friend with no strings attached, who else can you kiss? Besides, I didn’t think I imagined the way her long brown lashes dipped over the faint freckles beneath her eyes, eyes that were curious, staring at my fucking mouth.

  She’d considered it, I knew that much. I mean, what hot-blooded female wouldn’t? But then she’d laughed it off like I was crazy.

  And yeah, maybe I was. Maybe we’d have kissed, made out, fondled a little, and I’d have to fight back the memories of seeing her wet her pants in kindergarten and the farting competitions we’d had in the third grade. Maybe my stomach would have roiled, or maybe I’d be unable to quit laughing, to block out who was touching her lips to mine.

  But god damn it, I guess we’d never know.

  “What time are we meeting Cad at the skate park?”

  “He’s working until four,” Lars told Raven.

  I pulled my phone out, checking the time, and saw I had a message.

  Huh. I wasn’t high, at least, not yet. Later, maybe. I wasn’t like Lars. The amount of times I’d almost broken my damn neck riding my bike due to smoking some weed was fucking embarrassing.

  Freckles: Hey, so I kind of need you.

  The message was sent a half hour ago, and something stirred in my stomach.

  Church rolled over, nuzzling his head into my thigh. I stroked his belly, taking my sweet-ass time to type three simple letters.

  Me: Why

  Her response came instantly.

  Freckles: Byron asked me out. Like, on a real date.

  My hands tensed as I read her message again and again.

  Me: When?

  Freckles: DM’d me on Insta.

  Fucking fuck. Of course, he did. He probably saw the latest photo she’d uploaded, one of her long ass legs and freshly painted mint green toenails, and thought to hell with sneezing on someone’s face, I need me some of that.

  All the scumbags at school knew to stay away from her. It rarely even needed to be said.

  I’d have to kill him.

  All in good time.

  “Are you even here? Or are you sexting Lizzie again?”

  Ignoring Rave, I texted back.

  Me: What do you need me for then?

  “Earth to fucking Dash? Are we getting more beer before we hit the skate park or not?”

  It took her a solid minute, bubbles dancing and disappearing, but she finally found the courage.

  Freckles: I need to practice.

  A twitch shook my lips, and that stabbing feeling in my chest dissipated. I pocketed my phone, then grabbed Church to take him back to the house.

  “You fucks work it out. I’ve got plans.”

  They didn’t bother asking where I was going, seeing as I’d never bother telling.

  Peggy

  Nerves ignited the second I’d sent that message, catching fire when I realized he wasn’t going to respond.

  With a sour stomach, I switched back to Instagram, rereading Byron’s message for the eighth time since he’d sent it almost an hour ago.

  Hey! You took off the other night? I don’t have your number, so I thought I’d find you here. I’m sorry for ditching you. Wade almost got into a fight, and then I got so wasted, I passed out by the pool.

  Let me make it up to you with a real date? How’s this Friday sound?

  And my response?

  I was still dying over it, wishing I’d had some chill and waited.

  Of course! Totally fine. What time?

  Totally fine? Ugh, what was I? Some kind of pushover? It was not totally fine. Far from it. The embarrassment that’d been tearing at everything I did this past week, further hurling the feelings of inadequacy I’d always struggled with at Magnolia Cove Prep, made it so far from fine, it was sometimes hard to breathe.

  I’d never had a problem with feeling as though I didn’t belong. I’d found my people, few as they were, and I didn’t need anything more than that.

  Mom once told me that trying to fit into someplace you didn’t belong was like wearing a pair of jeans two sizes too small. It’d slowly strangle and squeeze every last drop of life from you. Eventually, you’d find yourself stuck, all alone with nothing but the unrecognizable scraps of who you once were.

  I didn’t need cheap friendships that would only fall apart the second we left this town and went our separate ways. But what I wanted, what tormented my insecurities, was to know what it was like to fall for someone. No matter how much that fall hurt on the way down, I was sick and tired of wondering if I was doomed to finish high school without having been on one date. Without experiencing the butterflies, the late-night phone calls, and the stolen kisses in the school halls.

  Because I hadn’t. The last time I thought I was getting close to scoring a boyfriend, it was when Simon Ro
gers had asked me out in biology in the eighth grade. He wasn’t the best-looking guy, but he was cute with his wire-rimmed glasses, and he smelled nice. Like the lemon-scented spray Dad’s cleaner used. He said he’d have his mom pick me up at seven and take us to the movies.

  But he never showed, and he never even spared me a glance in class the following week at school.

  A message came through from Byron.

  You’re seriously the best. Wish all girls were as understanding as you. I’ll pick you up at eight?

  I locked my phone and set it down.

  He could wait a while longer after that comment and my ridiculous mistake.

  I fell to the bed just as a thump hit the exterior of the house, and Dash launched himself through the window.

  “Can you ever land gracefully?” Or you know, use the front door. For as long as we’d lived here, he’d snuck in. At first, it was due to being unsure whether my mom would still want us hanging out, but it didn’t take her long to figure out what he was doing.

  She didn’t care. When I’d shaken like a mouse cornered in a kitchen, she’d smiled and told me she’d never stop us from being friends. Yet the window always remained unlocked.

  Dash kicked off his boots, and they hit the aging floor with two bangs. “I’m all man, baby. Not a fucking cat.”

  Hearing him say that reminded me of why he was here. I sprang to my feet, hurtling out into the hall and into the bathroom.

  “What are you doing?”

  Too busy gargling mouthwash, I didn’t answer and spat it into the sink as he appeared in the weathered mirror behind me.

  “Seriously?” he asked. “You burp in my face after eating garlic pizza, so this is just fucking dumb.”