The Kissing Deadline (9 page)

Fiery number four struggled up a small hill.
Cassie half-hoped it couldn’t make the climb. At the top, Cassie
was blinded by an onslaught of twinkle lights. When the lights
dimmed to a bearable glow, she saw new and increasingly romantic
decorations: hearts, bowers of flowers, cardboard cut-outs of
couples kissing, and wedding scenes. Every time she thought the
ride would end, the cart chugged around another turn to show her a
new display: toasting champagne flutes, couples dancing. The car
veered left.

Cassie ducked as a sequin-clad cupid emerged
and shot an arrow her way. The arrow arced over her, raining red
and silver glitter onto her bent head. The final five minutes was a
repeat of the trip through dark silence. Proud number four lurched
to a halt at the end of the ride. With fear of an encore, Cassie
threw all her weight at the bar and pressed up.
Click.
The
bar popped open, and she jumped out, darting for the exit with the
penguin in her hand and embarrassment in her heart.

Her body relaxed as she reached the cool
night air. She sucked in a breath, relieved to be free. She watched
the carnival goers, and up ahead, spotted Spencer and his group of
little friends. They paused in their stroll. Despite the darkness,
she could easily see Spencer’s smirk, thanks to the glow of an
overhead sign,
Now Exiting the Tunnel of Love
.

Spencer pointed her out to his friends.
“Look. My sister took the love ride alone.”

His friend said, “What a loser.”

Spencer elbowed him.

His other friend said, “Hey, it’s not her
fault they don't allow pets on rides.”

Cassie stepped toward them with clenched
fists, and the cowards ran.
Clank.
Cassie stopped at the
sound of the car behind her squealing to a halt. David’s footsteps
crunched on the path. “Man, I don't know if I'd call that the
lowest point in my life, but…”

“Yeah, when cupid started with the
glitter…”

David shook his head. “Cupid was lucky I was
locked down by the bar.”

Cassie tugged on his shirt, and red and
silver glitter flew off the fabric. David took her hand in his and
twined his warm fingers with hers.

Clank.
The clank heralded another
car’s arrival. Mike and Sierra stumbled free, leaving their car
with a longing look. On their way past, Sierra utilized their
stealthy note passing skills and slipped a Listerine pack out of
her bag. She shoved it at Cassie, who tucked the small green pack
into her back pocket.

“Catch you guys later.” Mike pulled Sierra
close with an arm over her shoulders and urged her toward the
Ferris Wheel.

David pointed at the Tilt-a-Whirl ride.
“Let’s try that one.” When he helped Cassie into the whirl car, he
made a pointed showing of keeping the bar up until he got in. Ha.
The second he looked away, she reached into her pocket and removed
some Listerine strips. Using the penguin as a shield, she shoved
several in her mouth. The mint film melted on her tongue. David
lowered the bar, and the car jerked into a spinning motion.
Cassie’s head bounced back against the cushioned wall, and the
filmy strips shifted to the back of her throat, clinging, burning,
making her gag, and choke.

Brown eyes wide with concern, jaw tight,
David grabbed her shoulders. He forced her back to him then lifted
her arms in the Heimlich maneuver. The car swiveled up and around,
freeing her stuffed penguin. The black and white animal flew onto
the track. A second car swung down and smashed him. She wanted to
say some birds weren’t meant to fly. But she couldn’t think past
the burning and watery eyes.

“Stop the ride,” David yelled to the
attendant. “She’s choking.”

* * *

Laid out on a gurney, in the medical tent
with her family around her, Cassie cupped her hands over her eyes
in one blissful moment of hiding.

Spencer said, “I don't see why I had to leave
too.”

Mom ignored him and patted her arm. “It’s
going to be okay, dear. The doctor said you're fine, and we can
remove the oxygen mask and the precautionary neck restraint any
time now. We told David he could go on home.”

The nearby medical equipment beeped. Mom
yanked Spencer away.

Dad touched the IV line taped to the back of
her hand in concern. “Was David able to hold your hand while they
carted you over?”

* * *

Trallwyn High School Dragon Scoop

Congratulations to varsity soccer for their
win over Stratford. Go Dragons.

Fire drill may or may not occur this
week.

No parking in lot C.

Coach Ameen said, “As an update, watch
yourselves and each other for mono symptoms.”

Antenna Guy slid his chair into the aisle of
the lab. His antenna tapped Cassie’s table when he turned. “I hear
there's an opening over at Pet's Mart.”

“Shut up.”

He lurched closer, trailed by his silver
metal pole. “Would you kiss
me
for a dollar?” His lips
puckered at her, and he made a barking sound. A pencil flew over
the table and hit him on the side of his head, forcing him to back
off.

Ryan had good aim.

Sierra snapped her fingers in a darn motion,
but Cassie wasn’t sorry. She shifted her chair further back and
overheard part of Larry’s conversation with antenna guy,

“…dropped her…”

Evidently, Ryan heard him too because he
turned his focus on her. “I'm so sorry about the Trust Fall—”

Cassie raised her hands. “It's okay,
really.”

Antenna Guy turned back to their table. He
tilted his head. “You're on the varsity soccer team, and you can't
hold up Cassie?” He looked Cassie up and down. “What do you
weigh?”

This was the most attention she’d ever gotten
from guys, and it was over the Trust Fall and a dog kiss? “Ryan
didn't really drop me. He just couldn't catch me.”

Ryan squared his chin. “We're going to do it
again.”

“No. We’re not.”

Antenna Guy turned back to Larry. “Bet I
could lift her.” He flexed his guns to illustrate and clasped both
fists around his antenna.

Cassie looked away from the show. Several
granite rocks lay on the table in front of her, along with a spray
bottle and an ice bucket. She appreciated the chill in the air.

“Today we’re going to discuss thermodynamics.
Energy and heat. So, of course, curling will be the best sport to
demonstrate.”

Cassie studied the ice in front of her,
sighed, and turned to Ryan. “What’s curling?” Talking came much
easier ever since he’d dropped her. It had taken away her sense of
awe.

Ryan snickered at her expression. “It’s a
Scottish game.”

“It’s not even American?”

He gave her a crooked grin. “It’s an Olympic
sport, Cass.”

Coach said, “Form your curling sheet.”

Ryan handed her the ice cubes. “Make a square
with them.”

“Create your pebble.”

Cassie reached for the granite stones. Ryan
handed her the spray bottle instead, motioning for her to spray
water on the ice. As they worked, Coach Ameen walked down the
aisle, handing out flyers. Sierra took one and shook it back at
Cassie.

“What?” Cassie snagged the crumpled paper.
The flyer titled,
Why Kissing is Bad
, contained a list of
reasons not to kiss and included numbered diagrams.

Sierra said, “Don't worry. No one's going to
pay any attention to these. Well, maybe to number three, but the
others are nonsense.” Number three showed the tip of a tongue
caught in a piercing.

Mike skimmed over his brochure. “Man, I
didn't want to kiss anyone, but now I'm tempted.”

Ryan laughed. He turned his diagram sideways
and thumped the paper over number three. “Do you do number three,
Cass?”

She passed him the water bottle. “Only in
combination with number six.” Number six showed a doctor clamping
forceps on two entwined tongues.

Ryan shuddered.

“No joke,” Antenna Guy said. “I know someone
this happened to.”

* * *

The high school cafeteria served as a brief
respite from learning, but it held its own pitfalls. Cassie tiptoed
past a puddle of spilled orange juice. The stale citrus smell
indicated it had been there a while. Nearby, a fresher,
lemon-colored puddle pooled on the linoleum. Having no interest in
another day wearing clothes provided by the school nurse, Cassie
slowed her steps and kept her gaze alert.

A large text book slid across the white floor
in front of her, and she jumped it.
Whoosh.
The flapping
pages of a Biology Two textbook flew by. Cassie bent backwards in a
hurried, limbo move. Where was this coming from? That book almost
nailed Paige’s boyfriend. Following the flight path, she saw Paige
dig through her backpack for more ammunition. She hurled a hard
rectangular pencil case. The case popped open midflight and spewed
its contents. An eraser hit the linoleum. Pens scattered on the
floor. The thud and clatter of projectiles added to the drama in
the cafeteria.

Paige screamed, “You’d better tell me who she
is.” Having emptied her bag, Paige threw the actual backpack at her
boyfriend’s head.

He dodged before impact. His maneuver sent
his red STOP flag fluttering.

Paige eyed the flutter and screamed something
unrepeatable at him. Cassie started to understand the commotion.
Paige’s clothes were flag free.

Her boyfriend’s hands rose defensively, and
Paige slowed down her words, emphasizing each one. “How’d you get
that flag?” Paige picked up her soda and tossed it next.

The fizzy beverage sprayed out. While nearby
students held up folders to block the spew, they didn't budge from
their ringside seats. Cassie caught up to Sierra and Mike. They
were staring at the fight. Sierra said, “Gotta’ give him points for
not running.”

Mike pursed his lips and nodded. “He’s
holding steady, admitting nothing.”

The betrayed Paige grabbed a loaded tray and
sent the lunch flying. “A pretty good arm,” Mike noted in
admiration. The tray connected, and Mike winced in shared male
sympathy. “Ooh.”

“Not as good an aim as mine, in case you're
wondering,” Sierra said, her head tilted at a challenging
angle.

Mike used the opportunity to squeeze her
bicep.

When Coach Ameen joined the scene and hooked
a thumb toward the office, the battle ended.

“The truth will come out,” Paige promised
over her shoulder as Coach led her away. The deep threat of revenge
saturated her words.

Cassie glanced around the room for Amber,
wondering if that were true.

* * *

Trallwyn High School

Dragon Scoop: Tuesday, March 6th

Spring Fling court votes due 1pm.

Students with anti-kissing posters shook them
at students who wore red STOP post-its. A few students sported the
more serious punishment ribbons. Cassie scrutinized the sea of
student shame in the school’s hallway. “Look at all the
posters.”

Brooke dug for her notebook with pursed lips
and a frown on her face. “There’s so many more than this morning.
This could seriously impact the kissing plan.”

Sierra shrugged and tied her curls up in
butterfly clips. Four escaped and trailed down her neck. “It may
speed things up. Check it.” She pointed at a student with one of
the anti-kiss posters. He poked the corner of it at a girl wearing
so many flags that she’d received the female shame ribbon labeled,
Typhoid Mary
. Typhoid Mary dove for the poster guy and
kissed him, smack on the lips. Kristnaldo gave the poster guy a
STOP flag and winked at Typhoid Mary.

Cassie took a deep breath and crossed her
fingers. “I don't know. Now that the outbreak is worse, maybe we
should quit the kissing plan.”

Brooke shook her head. “My plan has to work.
Kiss someone. Run and brush after.”

Sierra said, “OMG Cassie, you’re so
over-thinking this. Just grab a guy and do it.”

“What if he resists?”

“They don't resist.” Sierra reached out and
grabbed hold of the nearest flannel-wearing guy.

Brooke threw a mint at Cassie's mouth. The
mint hit Cassie's tooth and flew into the locker with a
ping
. Sierra yanked on the flannel until the student turned
around.

“What?” the flannel-wearer said.

“Cheryl?”

Brooke reached over and slapped Sierra's hand
away. “Sorry, Cheryl, never mind.” Cheryl turned away, and Brooke
slapped Sierra in the arm. “We said male.”

“Lumberjack shirt. Honest mistake.”

Seconds later, Ryan and Amber strolled by.
Ryan called over his shoulder to the trio, “Hey, see you at my
house for rehearsal.”

Sierra hoisted her zebra bag and shook her
head. “Can’t, I have a thing.”

Amber smiled at the news and stepped closer
to Ryan. She took the time to wrinkle her nose and frown at Cassie.
Cassie accepted it as her due. She’d heard that Amber received a
demerit for the ketchup-soaked socks. One more demerit and she’d
lose her place in the front row of cheer formations. Amber wouldn’t
like being Pluto’d to a lesser spot on the back row. Poor Pluto. It
would always be a planet to her.

“What about you Cassie?” Ryan asked.

“She's my understudy.” Amber wrapped her arm
around Ryan's waist. “She doesn't need to be there.”

Sierra said, “She's the one who shows up for
rehearsals.”

“That’s because she’s not involved like I
am.”

“I don't think Cassie will be the understudy
much longer.”

Cassie’s stomach twisted as Sierra challenged
Amber. Not good. She turned her widened eyes on Sierra and put a
hand on her arm. Then she forced a smile at Amber. “It’s okay.
We'll make the next rehearsal. Sierra's my ride.”

“I’ll drive you,” Ryan offered, in male
oblivion to the drama he was about to stir up.