The Kissing Deadline (2 page)

Cassie swung back to assess the smoke. The
puff hadn’t gotten any larger, but blue swirled to red. Or was that
yellow? Purple? She rose on her toes, but her view was cut off by a
pair of broad shoulders wearing a green shirt.
Ryan.
Her
heart rate increased, the skin on her arms prickled and she lost
all interest in the colors. Ryan held his girlfriend’s hand and had
his back to her, but still, Ryan was right there. Within touching
distance. Within breathing distance. Near her. Ryan.
Save
me
.

“Let’s exit through the kitchens.” Ryan
directed his words at his best friend Mike.

“No way.” Amber twisted free and backed
toward the blocked doors. “The school’s on fire. News crews will be
out front. They’ll need to interview me because I’m the head JV
cheerleader.” She pointed to the main exit. Then she spoke in the
firm tones she used to direct her squad. “Let’s go.”

Ryan didn’t obey. He just stared at her.
Amber gave a half-exasperated, half-excited sound and darted to the
exit. In an impressive display of cheerleading skills, she used the
shoulder of a football player like a pole vault and landed on the
arms of one guy’s wheelchair. Her weight slowed down his exit, but
after a moment, he spun them forward a foot. Nearer to the doorway,
she leapt again and easily cleared the gap at the top.

Ryan tapped Mike, pointed toward the kitchen,
and they ran. Mike had hold of Sierra’s arm and Brooke and Cassie
didn’t hesitate. Cassie ran and slid under the counter. She landed
on a dripping, rubber mat in forbidden territory— the server’s side
of the lunch line. This side of the line smelled strongly of grease
and mushrooms. Cassie thought it must be from the smothered steak
they planned to serve for lunch. The greasy aroma competed with the
burning smoke. While neither smell gained dominance, neither
relented. Cassie kept her breathing shallow, trying not to suck in
too much of either because if she passed out she’d either die
without dignity on a wet mat or awaken with wet circular imprints
all over her clothing. Either was a cruel fate.

The handle on the locked interior doors moved
and they burst open. Coach Ameen stepped through. He escorted a
wriggling boy with one large hand against the back of his tattooed
neck. He lifted the whistle from the strap around his neck and blew
a single, sharp blast. Silence followed and the whistle thumped
back to his chest. “It was only a smoke bomb, people. Fireworks.
Real threats don’t come in rainbow colors.” He propped the door
open by its silver kickstand. “Get to class. Tardy excuses will not
be given.”

* * *

The drama made the first period geography
students more awake than usual, but the teacher didn’t appear
grateful. Twenty-seven adrenalin filled teens at 7:30 a.m. was more
than Cassie’s nice geography teacher seemed capable of handling.
When the second period bell finally rang, the teacher swung open
the door and waved a hand toward the hall.
Get out.

Cassie grabbed her backpack and weaved
through the others. It was time for the daily dash to biology lab.
She took a deep breath, fueling her sprint with stale hallway
air.

“Did you—”

Cassie didn’t wait for Lizard Larry to
finish. She waved and pointed in the direction of Biology.
Gotta
dash
. Her sneakers pounded on the linoleum as she raced through
the corridor, dodging backpacks, cliques, and hall monitors. In
record-setting time, she arrived at the lab and peeped around the
doorjamb.

Kristnaldo perched on the edge of his
table--waiting.
I didn’t make it.
Cassie retreated into the
hallway. Holding her backpack to her rising and falling chest, she
sucked in more tainted air, resigned to wait Kristnaldo out.

Brooke trotted up, panting, and stopped short
of the doorway. With a smile, she slumped against the painted brick
wall too and rolled her head on her neck. “He’s already in
there?”

“Yep.”

“Ooh.” Brooke shoved a hand into Cassie’s
shoulder, pointing. “Uni-brow.”

An eager smile lit Lynn’s eyes under her
singular eyebrow as she traipsed down the hall to lab.

Cassie straightened, backpack in her arms,
ready to make her move.

Lynn crossed the threshold.

Cassie swung in after her. Hunched, head
down, she used Lynn as a human shield. The Italian exchange
student, Kristnaldo, pulled Lynn close for one of his kiss
greetings. “
Buongiorno
, my little lab partner.” Lynn always
lingered with Kristnaldo, which gave anyone who came in behind her
ample time to get their seats.

Brooke used the opportunity too, and they
moved at an easier pace down the central aisle. Cassie reached her
spot on row four and she sank down onto her stool. With all the
smells from the hallway, she couldn’t discern the usual chemical
smell that hung in here. Today, lab smelled like all the other
classrooms.

Kristnaldo puckered up for the next entrant.
Sierra’s red hair flashed into view. He reached for her, but Mike
slung his arm over Sierra’s shoulders, tugging her close. His
expression said, ‘Try it and lose a lip.’ Kristnaldo’s lips and
hands retracted.

“
Buongiorno
, Amber.”

Amber angled toward Kristnaldo for a triple
cheek kiss. “
Buongiorno
, Kristnaldo.”

Kristnaldo’s aggressiveness and demeanor put
Cassie off and she wondered how Amber could stand being kissed by
him when she was lucky enough to have Ryan.

Ryan. She sneaked a few glances at him while
everyone made it to their seats before the bell rang. Bags rustled
and chairs creaked as students dropped into them. Few people dared
arrive late to Coach’s class because no one wanted to drop and give
him twenty at this hour.

Wearing his usual red shorts, white polo, and
knee-high socks, Coach Ameen slid his wheeled chair back far enough
to prop his sneakers on the desk. After pulling a rolled sports
magazine free from his pocket, he said, “Go for film.” Kristnaldo
hit the lights and dancing DNA strands appeared on the smart
board.

Everyone knew the drill because Coach showed
a lot of movies and each person had their routine. Coach’s book
light popped on over his magazine. Brooke took notes. Lizard
Larry’s head fell to his desk. His John Deere cap tipped back and
she could see his tongue peeping from his mouth. Cassie took a few
notes until the images became really boring, then she spent the
rest of the time checking out Ryan. He always sat by Amber, who
used the time to type into her cell phone with the screen clutched
close to her body.

Cassie peered back at the screen. The DNA
clip went on for four years, but somehow, the run time didn’t take
up the whole class. Credits rolled until the smart board clicked
off and the images were gone.

The lights flashed on, and Cassie blinked
against the brightness.

Coach frowned and dropped his feet. Tossing
his magazine aside, he yawned and glanced at the clock. He snorted
a sharp breath through his nose. “Listen up. Two announcements.”
Coach raised a stack of papers. “We’re changing the emergency drill
procedures. The three future drills are: Fire, Lockdown and
Shelter-in-place.” He unclipped some of the pages from his memo,
scowled and tossed them to the corner of his desk. “We also have to
draft a plan and run some drills. We’ll deal with that later.” His
face took on a pitying expression. “We’ll leave it unsaid that your
efforts to evacuate this morning were an embarrassment--an
embarrassment to the school, your parents, your coaches, and
yourselves.” Next, he read from a piece of red paper. “Two: A few
students have come down with mononucleosis.”

“Mono what?” Amber asked.

“Is that an assignment?” Kristnaldo
frowned.

“Mono is an infection that lasts a few weeks
and then goes away--sort of.” Coach waved the red piece of paper in
the air. “The office has mailed warning letters to your parents.
Bring them back signed by Friday.”

“Mono’s the kissing disease.” Lizard Larry
gave a knowing nod and a demonstrative flick of his tongue.

“Yeah, so keep your mouths off each other,”
Coach Ameen said. All eyes shot to Kristnaldo, who didn’t appear to
notice.

“The office wants y’all to try and be
cleaner.” Coach passed a basket of packaged handy wipes to Cheryl
in the front row. “Take one and pass them down.”

Cheryl, not one to primp, sneered at the
wipe. After using it, she rubbed the remaining moisture from her
hands onto the hem of her flannel shirt.

Cassie couldn’t believe the news. A ban on
kissing the day she decided to get kissed?

The basket reached Sierra, who snagged a pack
and handed it behind her to Amber. At the same time, she tossed a
note across the aisle to Brooke. Cassie leaned over, so she could
read too.
Think Lizard Larry’s given anyone mono?

Brooke wrote,
Crap. He’s probably given it
to someone

Cassie added,
Not as many people as Amber
has
. She took a packet and handed the basket up to Larry. Next,
she tried to pass the note back to Brooke, but Brooke’s frowning
gaze was on Coach. Cassie decided to flick the note to Sierra
herself. She could make that distance.

Brooke raised her hand. “Coach Ameen, kissing
isn't the only way you get mono.”

Cassie folded the note into a tight
triangle.

“Yes, fine,” Coach said. “Stop sneezing on
each other too.”

Cassie held the triangle between her thumb
and index finger. Brace. Balance. Aim. Thump. The folded square
sailed straight at Sierra in a perfect arc. The note hit the back
of Sierra’s head, bounced backwards, and floated down behind her,
coming to rest flat on the table in front of Amber. Cassie
swallowed, covered her mouth with her palm, and stared at the
fallen square, her stomach twisting.

Why?
Why had she attempted a pass
without the receiver’s full attention? She’d learned better the
first week in Biology when Coach Ameen caught her pouring liquid
into a beaker without a funnel. As the liquid spilled, he’d said,
‘Passes can always be blocked or overshot.’

Sierra touched the back of her head and
turned around.

Amber raised her gaze from her text message,
and her hand, tipped with yellow-orange fingernails, moved toward
the note.

Sierra’s eyes narrowed on the triangle, and
she reached for the note at the same time.

Too slow.

Ryan must have been watching the action,
because he used his longer reach to an advantage and slapped his
hand down on the note. Snatching it up, he shoved the small
triangle into his pocket. The bell rang, and before anyone could
call him on his theft, he strolled from the classroom.

Cassie raced after him. Her chase went
against her shy intent to adore him from afar, but this qualified
as an emergency as much as the smoke alarm this morning, if not
more. If Amber found that note, she’d punish Cassie somehow. Cassie
drew level, stretching out her legs to match his gait and held out
her hand, palm up.

Mike caught up to them, wearing a smirk.
“What’s up, Cassie? Joining us for Calculus?”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike.” Cassie had no
problem talking to Mike. He reminded her of her little brother,
Spencer, but without the devious streak.

“I didn’t know she had a voice,” Ryan said to
Mike as he shot Cassie a sideways look.

Cassie wanted to say something clever, but
her wit deserted her around Ryan. She pointed at his pocket and
shook her waiting hand, silently imploring him to return the note.
He stared back, unmoving, until Amber joined them and slid an arm
around his waist. Cassie’s palms began to sweat and she dropped her
hand and fell back a step.

“Have a party this weekend, and I’ll let you
show me your room,” Amber said in a wheedling tone.

Ryan stiffened, but didn’t say anything.

“Like he’d have to have a party for that to
happen,” Mike scoffed.

Amber rolled her eyes at Mike and snuggled
closer to Ryan.

“No.” Ryan shrugged her off and walked away,
carrying Cassie’s note.

Amber turned her gaze on Cassie. “What do you
want?”

“Nothing.” The two-minute warning bell
rang.

* * *

“Turn the channel.” Cassie threw popcorn at
Brooke and Sierra. Brooke twisted, held the television remote away
and shook her head. Sierra snagged a piece from her shirt and
popped it into her mouth, her gaze on the TV.

The animal reality show filled the screen.
Snout aquiver and steps sure, the mole burrowed back into his
natural habitat. The other moles took a sniff and tilted their wee
heads.

Clearly, they could sense something different
about the returning mole. Cassie bet the mole wished for the days
before Animal Planet strapped a body camera on him. She tensed when
the narrator described his diet. His toxic saliva paralyzed live
earthworms. Showing hoarding tendencies, he took more than he
needed, saving the food for later.

Enough. She shook her head at the TV. “Turn
it.”

“I thought moles were hairless and pink,”
Sierra commented.

After the little creature’s camera was
sniffed for the sixth time, Cassie handed the bowl to Sierra then
scooped two handfuls to toss at Brooke. “No more.” More popcorn
littered the floor than remained in the bowl. Her recreation room
had taken on the appearance and smell of the local movie
theater.

“Okay, okay.” Brooke relinquished the remote
and brushed the popcorn off her navy Rice University t-shirt.

Before Cassie could change the channel, Mom
and Cassie’s fourteen-year old brother, Spencer, came in. The
basement recreation room was Cassie’s private space, but her little
brother ignored that rule regularly. So did her Mom.