I Will Not Kiss You

Someone rang the buzzer at approximately 7:08pm. Dad was still stumbling round in the kitchen, trying to make dinner. I was sat watching him through the hatch. It was quite funny watching him struggle to make a proper dinner. Dad’s a shove-it-in-the-microwave-or-buy-it-frozen guy.

He swore and waved his finger as he burned it; although the logical thing to do would be to run it under the cold tap.

The buzzer rang again. I didn’t move from my seat, watching Dad cooking intensely.

“Crap…Frank will you get that?”

“I have to watch you cook dinner.” I stated.

“You can leave for two minutes can’t you?”

“No.”

“Well if you hadn’t made me start again, I’d be finished by now.”

Dad had cut his finger grating some cheese, so I said I couldn’t eat any of the food he’d prepared and made him start all over again.

“Ok look, I’ll stop cooking while you answer the door ok?”

I shook my head, watching the food fixedly. Dad cursed again and stumbled towards the intercom. Minutes later Dad was opening the door and greeting ‘Nadine’ with great enthusiasm. My ears detected the sound of Dad’s heavy footsteps and someone else’s quick totter. I looked up as they entered the room.

“This is Frank.” Dad said proudly, showing me off.

The lady stepped into the room properly. She had short black hair with a funny fringe that looked like someone had cut it using an upturned bowl. Her lips were painted with bright red lipstick that stood out startlingly against her pale skin and dark eye make-up. She wore a proper ladies business suit. Black jacket, black skirt, black high heels, opaque tights that had a ladder on the inside of the right leg, a white shirt and a black leather handbag. I didn’t like her handbag. She smiled at me, opening her mouth to reveal neat, little white teeth. She had bright blue eyes that were like Chrissie’s but they didn’t shine.

“Oh…he’s adorable,” She cooed, sashaying forwards and holding her hand out to me “It’s very nice to meet you, young man, I’m Nadine.”

Her hand was small and had perfectly shaped nails with bright red nail polish that was chipped on the left ‘pinkie’, as Mikey calls it, and the right middle finger. She smelt of a posh, weirdly sultry perfume that I didn’t like. I didn’t shake her hand; I just stared at her. Dad cleared his throat and spoke for me.

“Yes…ahem…he gets a little shy around strangers; don’t you, Frank?”

I nodded to keep the peace.

“Oh,” She trilled, straightening up “Well I won’t be a stranger for long.”

She smiled at Dad and gave him the ‘Goo-goo eyes’. Dad returned this odd expression and said something about seeing to dinner and told her to make herself at home. Then he dashed from the room. She perched politely beside me, her back very straight. I watched Dad running about in the kitchen; he noticed her staring with me and closed the hatch so we couldn’t see in any more. I can’t eat my dinner now.

“So,” Nadine smiled “How old are you, Frank?”

“I’m sixteen; how old are you?”

She laughed and said I was a daring, young thing but didn’t answer my question. I stared at her bag. It made my stomach feel funny because I don’t like leather. An animal was killed to make that.

“Do you like it?” She asked, waving it in my face.

I leant away from it.

“Is it real?” I asked grimly.

“Yes; of course.”

“No then.” I replied.

“Oh.” And she put her bag on the floor beside her feet.

“You have a ladder in your tights.” I said, trying to chat to her.

She didn’t look amused as she observed her right leg and cursed under her breath.

“So I do,” She smiled determinedly “Thank you for pointing it out to me.”

“You’re welcome.” I said because that’s polite.

No one said anything after that. She surveyed the sitting room with interest and I surveyed her warily because she is a stranger.

“So; tell me about yourself.” She exclaimed, clapping her hands and making me jump.

She noticed this and placed her hand upon my shoulder and apologised. I jerked my arm away from her hand. She patted my arm instead.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” She promised.

“Nothing personal,” I replied, pulling my arm away again “But you can’t touch me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok.” I said out of politeness.

Chrissie tells me that I should always be polite to new people unless they’re being horrible to begin with. This lady has only done two horrible things so far. She touched me and she waved her bag in my face. But it’s not her fault that I don’t like leather and it’s not her fault that I don’t want her touching me. But it is her fault at the same time. Dad should have told her I don’t like being touched! But he obviously hasn’t.

“So; tell me about yourself.” She repeated, looking at me with interest.

“What do you want me to tell you?”

There are loads of things I can tell her about myself. The way I looked when I was five. How I’m afraid of spiders because one crawled up my trouser leg when I was little. Why I like Black Flag and not Michael Jackson. How I’m good at English but not math…

“Well…let’s start with what you like.”

“I like lots of stuff.”

She probably thinks I’m being deliberately awkward. But I’m not. I’m just trying to work out exactly what she wants me to tell her about myself.

“What about music?” She questioned “Who’s your favourite singer?”

“I like bands; not singers.”

“And what bands do you like?”

“Bouncing Souls, Misfits, Black Flag-”

“I’m sorry…I’m not familiar with them.”

I didn’t think she would be. No one old is.

“So…um…what about animals? Do you have any pets? Do you have a favourite animal?”

She was asking too many questions; and I didn’t like it. So I stood up, said ‘Excuse me’ and walked into my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling out of boredom. She’d looked a little surprised when I exited the room, but not particularly bothered…

Then someone knocked at the door and came in. I knew it wasn’t Dad because he knocks and waits for me to tell him it’s ok to come in.

“Hey!” I cried automatically.

“Sorry,” Nadine babbled “I’m ever so sorry! Really-”

“You can come in now.” I said.

She stepped politely into the room and looked around with interest. She had a good peer at my CD’s and books, and then had a good look at my posters.

“Are these your Bouncing Spirits?” She asked, pointing to a Misfits poster.

“No; that’s Misfits and its Bouncing Souls not Bouncing Spirits.” I corrected.

“Oh…well anyway; your Dad says dinner’s ready.”

“Ok,” I shrugged, getting up “But I can’t eat it.”

“Why not?” She questioned.

“Because he closed the hatch to the kitchen so I couldn’t see him cooking! That means I can’t eat it.”

“Oh.”

She didn’t say anything else as I showed her her place at the table and sat opposite her. Dad served up three plates of Spaghetti Bolognese; two were made of mince and one of quorn. Nadine smiled and thanked Dad politely. She also waited until Dad started eating before picking up her own fork and stabbing it into her food. I sat calmly and watched them eat their food. Dad looked up and noticed I wasn’t eating.

“Something wrong, Frank?”

“I can’t eat it.” I replied, pushing the plate away primly.

“Why not?”

“Because you closed the hatch,” I said “So I couldn’t see what you were doing.”

Dad sighed and then tried to laugh it off, making the whole thing look like some kind of joke.

“C’mon Frank, just eat the damn food!”

“I can’t.”

He looked at me pleadingly and muttered

“Just this once? For me?”

“Sorry but I can’t,” I repeated, standing up and picking the plate up with me “I’m going to do one of those microwave meals.”

Then I went into the kitchen and tipped the food into the bin and put my plate and cutlery in the sink to wash up later. I raided the freezer for one of my microwave veggie-lasagnes. I like them a lot, so Dad buys loads of them for when he can’t be bothered to cook a proper meal. Once I’d found one, I took it out of the box, pierced the cling film and placed it in the microwave for three and a half minutes. I then placed it on a clean plate with clean cutlery and joined Dad and Nadine at the table.

“Oh he’s such a little sweetheart,” Nadine cooed as I put a forkful of food in my mouth “The boys will love him.”

“The boys?” I questioned.

“My children.”

“You have kids?”

“Yes,” She smiled “Two boys! One’s nine and one’s seven.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll like ‘em.” Dad promised, probably sensing my discomfort at the idea.

I thought for a moment.

“Is that why we ran out of skittles?”

“Um…yeah,” He confessed “I didn’t think you’d mind-”

“I don’t.”

“Oh…ok then.”

Nadine smiled determinedly and pulled a wallet out of her handbag.

“Would you like to see some photos?” She asked, handing it to me before I could reply.

A dark haired boy with blue eyes was clutching a blonde boy of about four with the same blue eyes. I figured that the photo was a few years old now. I didn’t find these children particularly fascinating! There’s nothing special about them…they’ll grow up to be accountants or something and get married to some pretty ladies and have nothing-special children of their own. Then again, who am I to call them nothing-special? I’m not a particularly fascinating person myself! I’m probably quite boring actually.

“They’re lovely.” I replied as enthusiastically as possible, handing back the photos.

“Thank you,” Nadine smiled “Harry’s the older one and Ben’s the younger.”

I didn’t say anything. What can I say? It annoys me when people are having a conversation with you and then they say something that you can’t answer to. That happens to me a lot.

“I’ll bring them to meet you sometime if you like.” She added.

“I’m not very good with children.”

“Oh.”

“But that’s only ‘cause he hasn’t had much experience with them.” Dad said quickly.

He probably said that so that she didn’t get offended or upset. But how’s she gonna’ get offended by me admitting that I’m not good with children? If she does then she’s being pathetic because it doesn’t affect her at all! There was an awkward silence after that. I didn’t like it because there were other people in the room and I didn’t know what they were thinking.

“So…” Dad chirped “How ‘bout some dessert?”

“That’d be lovely.” Nadine beamed, giving him the ‘Goo-goo eyes again’.

Yuck.

While no one was watching, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and sent a message to Mikey. This is what I put:

SOS

I waited for five minutes and then sent:

911

And then:

Call me!! in case he didn’t understand what I meant. Mikey’s smart but he might think I’m joking.

“Here we go!” Dad beamed, sliding three servings of apple pie up.

Mikey understood what I meant. My phone rang just as we I was about to poke my fork into my pie. I pulled it outta’ my pocket and looked at the bright screen.

Caller: Mikey

“Put that away Frank.” Dad ordered.

“But it’s Mikey; it might be important.”

“I doubt it” He replied “It can wait till later.”

“But I don’t like ignoring calls!”

“Call him back later!”

“But I’m still ignoring his call! It might be really important!” I argued “He- he told me his grandma’s not very well at the moment! Something might have happened.”

And, to make him feel guilty, I thought of sad things to make myself look like I’m about to cry. That thing about his grandma is true! She’s not well…she has a cold. Dad sighed and waved his hand.

“Go on then.”

“Thank you.”

And then I jumped up and ran for my room. Once in there, I shut the door and answered my phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey; I got your message!”

“Yeah, I gathered,” I replied “Sorry I took so long answering.”

“That’s ok,” He promised “So; how’s it going? What’s she like?”

“She’s strange.” I said bluntly and a little harshly.

“Why?”

“She’s too nice! I’m scared!”

“Aw…Well, maybe she’s just trying to make an impression!”

“I dunno’…maybe…but she’s really, and I mean really, smiley and she’s always cooing at me and making ‘Goo-goo eyes’! Anyone would think I’m five!”

“She’s just trying to be nice,” Mikey assured “What’s she look like, then?”

“She has short black hair with a weird fringe, she’s got blue eyes! They’re like Chrissie’s but they’re not as shiny! She has a business suit on…She’s got a leather handbag, which I didn’t like, she wears bright red lipstick and lots of dark eye make-up-”

“What’s her name?”

“Nadine! And she asks lots of questions!”

“Like what?”

“Just about me! I think she was trying to do chatting with me.”

“Probably,” He replied “So; does she have kids?”

“Yeah, she has two boys called Harry and Ben.”

“They sound boring!”

I laughed.

“They don’t look particularly captivating.”

“Are they there as well?”

“No, she showed me a photo.”

“Oh right.”

Then Dad called me from the other room and I knew that I had to go.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta’ go! Dad’s calling me.”

“Ok, see you tomorrow!”

“Bye.”

And then I returned to my seat at the table to eat my cold apple pie.