The Kiss Off (2 page)

“You don’t have to talk to them, do you?”

“Mads!”

“Please, Poppy! I’ll owe you forever and ever. I’m really nervous.” Mads stared at her fingernails, picking chips of purple glitter from them. She was never this nervous about a boy. She liked a new boy every week, but there seemed to be something really special about Dev.

I took another swig of Pepsi. I still didn’t want to go in there.

I gave the boy next to me a slap on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned around, and looked to me and Mads, not sure which one of us slapped him.

“Hold this for me, will you?” I said, holding out the guitar.

“But-”

I thrust it into his arms. Mads held out her hand again and hauled me to my feet.

She kept hold of my hand and led me toward the house. Sliding the glass door to the living room open, we both winced as our ears and bodies adjusted to the noise and reverberations of the music, the thudding beat slamming into the very core of our beings. My heart quivered with every beat. To accommodate the rager Ravi’s parties inevitably turned into, the couches and coffee table had been pushed back to make room for more standing space. All of which was filled. The living room was party central, this was where the majority of people were, and the minority of personal space was.

I flicked my gaze around the room, where was Cam, was he watching me?

“You can’t leave me, Poppy,” Mads said, wiping her mouth, half her lipstick smearing on the back of her hand. “Make sure you don’t leave me.”

Giving her hand a squeeze, I said “I’m in it for keeps, baby” and flashed her a fake grin, full of confidence. She bought it, smiled back and ruffled my hair.

“Now, where do you think he-?”

“Hi Maddie.”

Mads spun around and right in front of her was Dev, smiling straight at her. Hitting her with that smile of his, the one with the teeth and the lips and those dimples, I could feel her positively melting on the spot, so I dug my fingernails into her palm.

“Hi Dev,” Mads said. He leaned in to give her a hug, but her body was so stiff it was unbearably awkward. She patted him on the back and he went to kiss her on the cheek but she moved and he was surprised when he kissed her ear instead. I tried not to cringe. At least he’d tried, that was a good sign. He nodded at me, behind Mads.

“How’s it going, Poppy?”

Mads let go of my hand and, her eyes on Dev, she waved her hand at me from behind her back, frantic waving for me to leave them alone. Well that didn’t last long.

I spotted Cam and Nikki over by the TV, which had a bowl of pretzels and a couple of empty plastic cups sitting on top of it. He had his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, his body loose, comfortable. He wasn’t looking for me. He was only looking at her.

“I could kill for some gummy bears right now,” I said.

“I think Vanya has some,” Dev said, nodding toward the corner near the kitchen.

“Cool,” I said. “I’m going in. Later.” I turned around, braced myself against the wall and stood on the tips of my all stars, looking for her through the crowd. Luckily, Vanya wasn’t near the kitchen (and the TV) but the competition seemed to have moved into the dining room. As I shuffled through the maze of our classmates and randoms I didn’t know, I ignored several nervous glances shoot between me and Cam and back again. I gave them reassuring smiles. Faking that everything was just fine and dandy. I wasn’t going to make a scene. Been there, done that. I still can’t believe I’d screamed at them like that, in front of pretty much the entire planet. Could they all please just forget that it had happened? So maybe I had called Cam a douche-canoe and Nikki a ho-bag while serving the early bird steak special to a pair of seniors. Can’t we just pretend that never happened?

“Oh, hey Pops,” Vanya said, tossing a Cheeto into the air, opening her mouth and catching it. I was disappointed to find the gummy bear bowl was empty.

“You’re getting pretty good at that,” I said. I scooped up a Cheeto from the bowl and tossed it at her face. It bounced off her nose, leaving a smear of orange dust. “Or not.”

She nodded toward Cam and Nikki. “I guess you saw that already.”

“Yeah,” I said. I hung my head, willing the sudden rush of shame to go away. “It’s embarrassing, everybody knows about it, you know?” I said quietly.

“No they don’t.”

“Well not everyone, but a bunch of people have been looking at me ever since they walked in. Him and that, him and…”

Vanya put a hand on my shoulder.

“They’re not all looking at you, I’m sure they’re not,” she said. “And even if they are, to hell with them.” She gave me a nudge. “Right?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “To hell with the lot of them.” On my toes, craning over the crowd, I peered back into the living room and watched Nikki feed Cam a pretzel. At the last minute she sped up and smashed it into his face. It cracked and broke into a million pieces and fell on the floor. They both started laughing and he plucked a pretzel from the bowl, crushed it in his hand and started tossing the pieces at her. She squealed and giggled and I looked away when they started making out. He wasn’t allowed to be so happy with her. But neither of them looked like they felt even the slightest bit of guilt about it.

“I’m sorry Mads and I weren’t around over the break when it all went down,” Vanya said. “Maybe if we had been, you wouldn’t have had to hang out with Nikki so much.”

“It’s not your fault, Van,” I said. I looked back at Cam and Nikki’s loved-up PDA sesh. I narrowed my eyes and tensed as she grabbed at his ass right there in front of everyone, in front of
me
. “It’s their fault. What gives him the right,” I said, “what gives him the right to bring her to
my
friend’s party? I know Ravi better than Cam does. And he would have known I was going to be here.”

“Yeah, but-” Vanya nodded.

“Yeah, he would have,” I said. “So he brought her here to be a spiteful little shit, didn’t he? To rub it in.”

“Well-”

“
Didn’t he
?”

“…I suppose he might have.”

“Yeah. He did,” I said. I glared across the room at them. They were now talking with Cam’s friend Drew.

“You know what, Van?” I asked. “I’m feeling a bit inspired.”

I had something to say, oh yes. Yes I did. But not here. So that was how Vanya and I ended up in my bedroom after midnight, readying my YouTube channel and regular viewers for a brand-spanking-new song. A song from the heart.

“Where’s the camcorder?”

“Oh, right.” I jumped up, and stepped over to my bedroom door, opened it and hurried past my little sister Bex’s room. The door was ajar and the warm glow of her Disney Princesses nightlight kept her safe. I passed my parents dark bedroom which was quiet except for the sound of my dad breathing deeply and my mom snoring like a freight train. If freight trains snored. You get what I mean. I hoped the camera wouldn’t pick that up through the wall, because that would be embarrassing. I padded down the cream carpeted stairs to the living room and grabbed the camera and its leads from Dad’s antique side table. As I headed back to the stairs, The Pest appeared from his bedroom, wearing rocket ship pajamas and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His name’s not really The Pest, obviously, but it suits him better.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a yawn.

“None of your business. Go back to bed.”

“Did you just get home?”

“No.”

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Go back to bed.”

He noticed the camcorder in my hands and his eyes brightened, suddenly alert. “Did you write another song? Is Vanya here? Hey, cool, can I watch?” This is why I call him The Pest. Well, one reason.

“Go back to bed, Rory,” I said, walking up the stairs. He crossed his arms and pouted at me from the bottom. “I mean it.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “It’s not like I can’t just see it on YouTube later, anyway.”

I handed Vanya the camera and let her set it up on the tripod while I did a practice run through of the song. I smiled to myself, satisfied, as I touched up my makeup and wiped away any mascara smears that were starting to form. It had been a long night. This song said everything I wanted to say to the guy-napper and her man-whore. She could have him for all I cared. Whatever. I strummed the guitar hard, and glared at the little red light on the video camera whenever I felt like it, pretending I was saying every last word to the two people I had trusted most. Why had I wasted my whole entire summer with them? What had I seen in them? What had I honestly liked about them so much, anyway? If I was going to be honest, the answer was ‘lots of things’, but I pushed that all aside.

After a couple of runs through, I realised the snoring had stopped because Dad started thumping on the wall to get me to
shut the hell up and go to bed Poppy, it’s two in the morning for Christ’s sake
. It didn’t matter - we had what we needed. I lay on the bed, elbows propping me up, eyes half closed as I watched Vanya do a light edit, cutting together some of the better bits and upload the song to my YouTube channel,
PoppyLongStocking
. With any luck, Cam and Nikki wouldn’t know what hit them. If they ever saw it.

“Right, it’s up,” Vanya said, swivelling the desk chair around to face me.

“Good,” I said. “Do you think-”

We both looked at our cell phones as they buzzed with new messages at exactly the same time.

“It’s Mads.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said.

Vanya held up her phone, bemused. “She has something ‘f’ing exciting’ to tell us so we have to come over tomorrow?”

I opened up a reply message and my fingers clicked over the buttons. “
Screw that, tell us now
,” I said aloud as I texted. Send. “Let’s check the video.” I climbed to my feet and leaned over Vanya’s shoulder as she refreshed the page.

“Holy crap, there’s been fifty views already?” I asked. I looked at the time. “It’s been up for like a minute. And it’s two in the morning.”

“Do you have fans in Australia or something?”

I shrugged. “Refresh again.”

We both raised our eyebrows and turned to each other. When she refreshed the page, there were now a hundred and twenty-three views. And a couple of comments.

Boots said ‘…Snap.’, Jesky0519 commented ‘Angry chicks are so hot’ and Zenbo99 had written ‘Damn…would hate to piss her off’. I smiled, held up my hand, and Vanya fived it.

My cell buzzed again and opening the text, I groaned. “She said no, she wants to tell us in person tomorrow.”

“I can’t,” Vanya said. “I have church with Nan, and the AV club is editing a couple of stories, and then I have violin before dinner.”

Whoa.

“I can’t either. I have homework and it’s family day tomorrow,” I said. “I’m writing back to say just tell us already.” After a minute she replied. “Apparently we’re losers and we both suck and we better be at the bus stop on Monday and we both suck.” I looked up at Vanya. “And blah blah blah.”

“That sounds about right,” Vanya smiled. “I better take off, I was supposed to be home ages ago.”

We tiptoed downstairs and I gave her a hug goodbye. Once she’d left I wandered back to my room. Climbing into bed fully clothed, I moaned and put a hand to my forehead as I started to get a headache. My hangover was arriving early.

***

Chapter Two

I waited at the bus stop for Mads on Monday morning, peering up and down the road, inhaling exhaust fumes as rush hour got underway. The bus was supposed to arrive any minute, and it didn’t look like she was coming. Typical.

But then she came skipping toward me from across the street, wearing pink and white striped pajama bottoms and a grey sweater.

“What…”

She had a hand clamped to her chin as she bounced toward me.

“I’ve been dying to tell you!”

“What are you wearing?”

“Pajamas,” she said. I waited. “Oh, I’m not going to school. I told my mom I was sick.”

“Why?”

She removed her hand from her chin. There was not one but two great big giant pimples. One of them looked all pussy and the other one was inflamed and red and completely gross.

“Ugh,” I said. She slapped her hand back over them and punched me in the arm.

“Where’s Van?”

“Not here yet.”

She held up her cell phone and frowned at the clock readout. We both looked up and down the street.

“She better hurry up, it’ll be here any-”

Boots clopped down the sidewalk and I raised myself up on my toes to see past the group of private school boys. Vanya bolted toward the stop with the grace of an elephant, her backpack bouncing around on her shoulders making her wobble a bit and half-lose her balance, a hand trying to hold her skirt down as it started riding up with each stride. Really, that girl. She had so many talents, but running gracefully wasn’t one of them. And I loved her for it.

“I made it,” she puffed, leaning forward to catch her breath. I smoothed down some flyaway hairs on the top of her head.