Chapped Lips and Cold Kisses

Mela cleaned up the shop, getting ready to close, from ceiling to floor she cleaned when she got the call. It was her dad and he was drunk, of course.

“Hello dad,” Mela answered.

“Aren’t you gonna visit your pops before you go overseas and become an American? You’re going to leave us and forget all about your home country and never return ever again.”

“Woah. Hold up,” Mela said, “That’s a tad overdramatic. I’m only going to be gone for a week.”

“Stop being so negative darling,” He broke into a coughing fit before continuing, “I don’t know much about this ballet stuff. But from what I hear, you’re pretty good at it. The Americans are gonna steal you right up.”

“Thanks, I think?” Mela wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“Anyways, come visit me. I want to see my little girl.” Mela rolled her eyes, since when did he care? “Oh, and bring my future son-in-law.”

“You mean Ville, my best friend?” She put extra emphasis on the best friend part.

“Sure, if that’s what you kids call it these days.”

“Whatever. I’ll call him and see if he wants to go visit your drunk ass.” She grumbled.

Her dad laughed a hearty drunken laugh, “My oh my such language coming from my baby girl’s mouth. I taught you well.”

“I’ll see you soon dad,” Mela said before hanging up and dialing Ville.

Ville agreed to go with Mela to her father’s house even though he was still reeling from the night before. He felt like he couldn’t look at Mela, he was too embarrassed and guilty. He was guilty about lying to her about Suzanne. He never lied to Mela. She was the one person he could tell everything to. That’s why they were best friends.

Ville ‘picked’ (he really just walked the few block to her house) Mela up at 19:00 and they drove her crappy little car the hour and a half drive to her fathers’. The car ride wasn’t as awkward as he thought it would be. They chatted about the band, Mela’s audition, and tried to guess how many random chicks would be at her dad’s house. Mela guessed five, Ville guessed two.

They finally arrived and rang the doorbell. Of course some blonde chick answered the door. “That’s one”, Mela whispered to Ville. He just chuckled under his breath.

“Who are you?” She asked, crossing her arms like she owned the place.

“I should be asking you that question,” Mela said bitterly, “I’m Mela Fagerholm, this is my dad’s house.”

“Oh, Mikko didn’t mention having a daughter.” She pouted, “Well come in, I guess.”

Ville and Mela pushed their way through and went straight to the basement where they knew they’d find her dad.

“Mela! Ville! Welcome,” He greeted drunkenly, “I see Greta let you in. Or was it Petra? Whatever, doesn’t matter. Come in!”

They started to walk towards him to sit on the couch when he suddenly yelled “STOP!” It startled the pair, making them jump. Their eyes followed to where Mr. Fagerholm’s finger pointed. It was mistletoe. “You two have to kiss before you can come in.”

“What the fuck dad? It’s only October.” Mela glared at her inebriated father.

“The rules apply any time of year.” He said nonchalantly, taking a sip of whatever alcoholic beverage was in front of him.

Ville and Mela looked at each other awkwardly for what felt like a long time. They were trying to figure out what to do when her dad started chanting, “Do it! Do it!”

Ville leaned in and Mela’s heart stopped. Was he gonna kiss her? Is this real life? She was too shocked to move so she just stood there. She felt a peck on her cheek and her heart sank. He was so close to actually kissing her. In front of her dad no less, but a kiss is a kiss.

“Aye Ville you missed!” My dad called out.

“You didn’t clarify the rules Mikko, you just said to kiss, so that’s what I did.” Ville laughed, plopping himself down on the sofa. Mela still stood in the doorway, not sure what to do at that point. Not to be an average white girl but she “just couldn’t”.
The night went on uneventfully, Mr. Fagerholm and Ville ended up playing X-box, while Mela worried about all the packing she had to do when she got home. It turned out Ville was right, there were only two whores over tonight. Mela thought she should give him a prize. A real kiss would be his prize. Ha, yeah, that’s not going to happen.

When they finally left her dad’s house, the car ride to Ville’s place was silent. Mela was still freaking out in her head about all the things she had to do and Ville was just sad that this was their last time being together for a while. He would miss his best friend, and that’s why when the car stopped in front of his house, courage rose up in his chest. While saying goodbye to Melena he leaned in, taking her by surprise in a long, romantic kiss. She gasped as Ville’s mouth touched hers, and he slid his tongue in, massaging it against her own. Her hand ran through his hair, and his hand ran up her shirt.

All of a sudden, she stopped, “What are we doing?”

Ville was too nervous to say anything, so he got out of the car, and quickly darted into his house.