Freaks and Fortune

I didn't want it to happen here, in the hazy afternoon with my eyelashes sagging from the humidity. I didn't want it to happen here, in the stifling darkness of the Kissing Booth with the gaudy colors making my eyes ache.

And yet, here we were, Cal and I, sweating in the summer heat and staring blankly at each other's feet.

"I figured I'd find you here," I said, forcing my eyes to look at his face.
"Yeah, well... Here I am."
"Yeah. Here you are."

Say something interesting! my brain screamed. Nothing happened.

Apparently, my brain isn't very persuasive.

"So... Are we going to kiss, or what?" Cal asked point-blank.
I snorted in a very un-ladylike manner. "Oh, Calvin, you have such a way with words."
"Sorry."
"Oh, how you reduce me to a trembling putty," I swooned sarcastically.
"Okay, whatever," he said, trying not to smile. "I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry."
"Your biting wit makes my heart-"
"Ivy!" he laughed. "Jeez."

He was covering his embarrassment with jokes. His body language screamed of uneasiness and it was clear that he longed to lean back against a wall cooly, with one foot raised against it. He wanted to be wearing dark sunglasses and to be lighting a slim cigarette with a chic metal lighter.

But he wasn't doing any of those things. He was shuffling back and forth uncomfortably, tugging at the hem of the baggy t-shirt he'd slept in last night. His face fell into a scowl.

"You're not making this very easy, you know," he muttered darkly.
"Well, I'm not going to just give it to you."
Cal sighed. "I don't know how to... how to... I don't know. Win a heart. As you can see from previous pursuits, I usually don't emerge victorious."
"Well, I don't exactly know how to give my heart," I said.
"Me either."

"Maybe you should start by saying something nice?"
"About you?" he gulped, nervous.
"No, the weather."
"Well, the clouds-"
"Of course, about me, Cal!"
"Oh."

He started to bite his lip and look down at his hands. He always did that when he had something important on his mind that he was too embarrassed to share. He got lost in his own thoughts, smiling at things in his head that I couldn't see.

"After you laugh, you sigh."
"What?" I asked.
"Sometimes you sigh a little after you laugh. You don't really notice it... I think I'm the only one who does. It's cute. I wish I could hear it more often, but you don't do it that much. It's hard to make you laugh, and that's how I know it's genuine when it does happen. The sigh, that is." He shuffled his feet. "So... Yeah..."

I blinked heavily. I hadn't been expecting that. He'd caught me off guard with one of those rare moments... The moments where the real Cal came to the surface to take a breath of air. He saw my face and looked confused, as if unsure if he'd given the right answer. The real Cal was tucked away, going back down to hide under the tough exterior.

"Thank you," I was finally able to say around the large lump that had formed in my throat. "That's one of the nicest things-"
"Yr'welcome," he muttered, looking at the floor and scowling.

"Cal," I said, and he started, my voice surprising him.
"Yeah?"
"You're sweet."

His eyes widened. I'm sure Cal, the bad boy fire-breather, would have rolled his eyes and preferred it if I'd called him a stud. But Cal, the real Cal -- my Cal -- was embarrassed at how much my compliment meant to him. He blushed.

"You're sweet and nice and secretly very thoughtful. I don't know how you've kept that secret for this long. I... I don't really know what to do now. It might be an act or a mistake, or something."

A sharp intake of breath.

When I looked up, Cal was staring heatedly at me.

"It's not an act."
It was my turn to be embarrassed. "I know," I murmured.
"It's not a mistake, either."
"I know."
"I'm not drunk, I'm not high, and I'm not confused."
I stayed silent. I knew all of those things.
"I like you."

I opened my mouth, but found that I couldn't speak. That's okay. I didn't know what I was going to say, anyways.

Cal had realized what was going on. His words sounded creaky, like an old door being opened. He'd made a discovery and his voice echoed with slow realization.

"You're scared!" he accused.
I looked down at the ground.
"You're scared! I like you and you like me back and that scares you!"
"Yes," I whispered.

I suddenly felt a wave of heat. Cal was coming nearer.

I looked up and my eyes met his chin.

"Hi, Cal."
"Hi."

He held his gloved hands up to my face.

"Help me out, here?" he asked very, very quietly.

As I unbuttoned his gloves, he concentrated on lowering his body temperature. I could feel his fingers grow colder as I slipped off both leather gloves.

"Not too much, okay?"

He didn't answer, completely lost in himself.

And, suddenly, the gloves were on the floor and Cal's cool hands were tracing pattern on my cheek. Cal's warm eyes blinked, and I could count his eyelashes. Cal's breath mingled with mine and he laughed slightly from somewhere within his chest.

"Pardon the pun, but I'm trying not to loose my cool," he muttered. "I'm trying not to get excited."
"Is it working?"
"No."

He leaned down and his lips gently brushed mine. He kissed my nose, my brow, and then sighed, frustrated.

"Are you going to tell me when I hurt you?"
"No," I said. And it was true.
"Ivy," he scolded softly. "You have to promise you'll tell me when I start to burn you."
"Okay, yeah, I promise."
"Liar."

And he kissed me quickly. No! No, no! Too quickly! His fingers found my jaw and he pressed his lips to mine in a simple honest kiss. It was perfect, perfect. He grew hotter. His lips stung somewhere in the back of my mind, but I didn't care. He sucked in his breath as if someone had put ice down his shirt and his lips parted ever so slightly and... he pulled back.

His comforting heat was gone, the warmth of his mouth and the tangy diesel fuel breath sweetened by his cinnamon toothpaste... gone. All gone.

"Ouch," he commented, touching my heat-reddened lips with a finger.
"No." I shook my head. I took a fistful of his shirt and frowned. "Not ouch."
He laughed and gently removed my hands from his chest. "I almost put a blister on those lips."
"No, you didn't!" I protested weakly. Because he had almost blistered them. I could feel the sting.
"What kind of cruel joke would that be? Blisters on that mouth. People would hate me, you know. I can't go ruining perfect lips like those."

He backed away. I had grown accustomed to his warmth and the sudden cold made me shiver.

"Don't go," I said.
"I've got a show..." he replied.

He turned to exit the darkness of the booth... but hesitated.

"Ivy?"
"Yeah?" I said, pouting slightly.
"You're not going to... I mean -- Well, I'm really hungover and I probably shouldn't have even tried to kiss... No, wait. I... You... I don't want you to go around with other -- You know. I don't know how to put it... So I'm just going to ask you-"
"I'm your girl, Cal," I said forcefully. "You don't even have to ask."

He took a step towards me, debating with himself. He wanted to kiss me again, I could just see it in his eyes and the way he dug his fingernails into this palms.

"I..." he said awkwardly, but trailed off and just smiled.

"Oh, and Cal?"
"Yeah?"

I picked his gloves up off the ground and walked toward him. I ignored his outstretched hands and instead tucked them into the front of his jeans. The fingers flopped over his waistband.

"Don't forget your gloves."

He made a noise that sounded terribly like a squeak as I gave him an innocent smile and patted his chest. I brushed past him and stepped out into the sun.

Cal.

My Cal.