The Kissing Deadline (15 page)

“Very good, one point, Cassie.” The teacher
went over to the cabinet of DVDs to find a Canadian based film. It
was another great thing about this class, lots of movies.

Cassie whispered, “How’d you get switched? No
one gets switched after the first six weeks.”

“I needed a different social studies
class.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“You saw my social studies teacher at the
game. I had Ms. Dobrucki.”

“Oh. And they let you switch?”

“Not until I got my mom on the phone.”

* * *

The Bunsen burners were lit and flaming when
Cassie slid onto her lab chair. In front of her lay graham
crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate. The diagram on the board
indicated today’s analogy--
archery
. She wasn’t sure of the
science, but the candy and marshmallows turned the room into a
campsite.

Ryan stood by the windows arguing with Amber.
After a moment, Amber tossed her hands in the air and stomped over
to Kristnaldo. Cassie decided now wasn’t the best time to return
Ryan’s borrowed shirts. Geography would have been good, but she
hadn’t thought of it because she hadn’t expected to see him in that
class. She was glad to see him in there. Now she could lend him a
hand for a change. Her Geography notes were awesome, and she’d use
them to make up for his carrying her through Bio.

Coach Ameen said, “Line up the graham
crackers like field rounds on one end of your table.”

Cassie looked from Coach to Ryan. “Set them
up at even distances,” Ryan translated. Cassie stood at the end of
the table and lined up the dishes. Ryan slid the burners to the
middle of the table. Two had fairly tall flames.

“First toss the cracker through the flame,
then the chocolate, then the marshmallow and then the final
cracker. When all parts are on the bull’s eye, let me know.” Coach
put his feet on his desk and opened a magazine.

Brooke said, “Uh, Coach.”

“It’s not rocket science people. Give it a
try.” Coach stayed behind his magazine, so Cassie felt pretty sure
he didn’t see Brooke’s annoyed expression.

A note flew in front of her. It read,
Brooke: Glad I’m not going to med school
. Surprisingly there
was an addition from Megan
, I’m ready for Girl Scout camp
though
.

Cassie giggled then wrote
Or the Cordon
Bleu cooking school
. She passed it up to Sierra.

Ryan tossed a graham cracker through the
flame, and it landed on the bull’s eye. “Good job,” she said.

Ryan handed her a marshmallow. “Your turn.”
Her first toss missed the flame altogether and plopped into the
window before thudding to the ground. He laughed.

Cassie turned her glare from the glass to him
then picked up a smooth square of chocolate. She should have led
with chocolate anyway. Leaning over the table, she flipped it
through the flame. The chocolate made a beautiful melted landing
atop the square. “Yes!”

Sierra said, “Cass, you almost lit your hair
on fire with that one. Don’t lean so close.”

Cassie gave her a thumbs up and jerked away
from the heat. She handed Ryan a marshmallow. He handed it back.”
Don’t let Sierra distract you. Eye on the prize.”

Cassie leaned close to the flame. Ryan
scooped her hair into one of his hands so it wouldn’t fry. She
tossed the marshmallow through, and it landed on the chocolate.
“Yes!”

Sierra frowned and prodded Mike to go
faster.

Ryan handed Cassie a graham cracker. She
lined it up with the flame.

“Wait.”

Cassie raised her eyebrows.

“Mike’s on cracker too. Use your graham
cracker to knock into his marshmallow or they’ll beat us.”

“No way.”

“Please,” Ryan whispered against her ear.
Cassie shook her head. He narrowed his green eyes and brushed her
neck with the fingertips of his free hand. “Please.”

She shivered at his touch and his husky pleas
stole her conscience. Cassie couldn’t help herself. She turned
toward Sierra and Mike’s table and used her cracker for evil. It
spiraled into Mike’s dessert and knocked his three-piece creation
to the floor. Mike’s final throw cracker flopped into an empty
space.

Ryan chuckled and high-fived her.

Cassie giggled while Mike and Sierra daggered
them with un-sportsman-like glares.

A burnt marshmallow careened through the air
and into the side of Cassie’s face--
splat
. Warmth,
stickiness. Cassie surveyed the room and caught Brooke’s smile of
apology in her mischievous eyes. Cassie knew from the glint that
was no runaway marshmallow. Brooke wanted an A.

Ryan wiped her cheek with his hand and gently
turned her to face their burner. “Eye on the prize,” he said again.
He gathered her hair in his hands and held it back from the
flames.

Ryan was better than any scrunchie. She’d
have stayed in that position all day if he hadn’t handed her the
final graham cracker.

He said, “Take them down.”

The golden square flew through the flame,
completing the class’s first successful S’more.

Cassie lifted her fists in the air.
“Yes.”

“Done, Coach,” Ryan called out.

Coach Ameen hopped up and came over. Scooping
the dessert up with one hand, Coach took a bite. “You get an
A
. Good work, carry on.” He paused to examine Mike and
Sierra’s newly completed S’more. “
A-
,” he said, and strolled
back to this desk.

They came in second, but got to keep their
food. Mike picked up the treat and fed it to Sierra.

They were left to begin again. At one
particularly loud comment in Italian, Cassie glanced at Kristnaldo
and Amber. Kristnaldo waved his hands in the air but Amber ignored
him. Her focus was on Ryan’s hand at Cassie’s waist. Under the
weight of her glare, Cassie slid away a step.

The retreat didn’t seem to appease Amber. She
carried a stack of flyers to Coach’s desk with a particularly
vicious twist to her mouth. Coach Ameen slapped his magazine down
and examined the pink heart-shaped pages. He rolled his eyes and
shoved them at flannel-wearing Cheryl. “Hand these out.”

The flyers were titled,
Acceptable
Affection
. The paper read,
Hand Holding, Hair Stroking, and
Poetry Reciting
. Mike elongated one of Sierra’s curls, released
it, and watched the curl spring back into place then he held her
hand.

Coach said, “Line through number one, it
spreads germs.”

Kristnaldo walked back to Sierra’s table and
stuck a flag on Mike's hand. Mike released Sierra’s fingers and his
hand clenched into a fist.

“The STOP committee would like to make an
official apology for including number one on the initial list,”
Kristnaldo said. “
Mi Dispiace.”

Cassie had no doubt that Mike was going to
give him a smack down one day soon. She hoped to be there to see
it. Turning back to her project, she landed a graham cracker. “Ode
to a S’more.” She lifted her masterpiece, sweet success. Chocolate
melted against her tongue, joined with graham cracker and a burnt
bit of marshmallow. Ryan shifted her hand toward his mouth and took
a bite too. Then he went around the table and began a new one.

A flash of white caught the corner of her
eye, flying toward her from Brooke’s table. She braced herself. The
note read,
Your house this weekend for final plan?

Cassie wrote,
Can’t. It’s family
day--zoo--groan, can you imagine? We’ll have to do the plan on
Monday
. She flipped it to Sierra.

Sierra wrote,
Monday works for me, sorry
to hear about zoo
. She passed the message to Brooke and then it
returned to Cassie.

Brooke had written,
Good luck. Are your
parents insane?

Cassie looked up and caught Ryan reading over
her shoulder. He was frowning. She pulled the note away.
Ack!
They mentioned the kissing plan in the note.
Luckily no details
though. Cassie saw Amber coming up behind him.

Amber held out her folders and books for Ryan
to carry. Class must be about over. Cassie checked the clock.
Today’s class had gone by quickly.

Ryan put his hands on the table but didn’t
take Amber’s books. “We have to talk about Saturday, Amber.” He
sounded annoyed.

Cassie grabbed her stuff and started out
slowly.

Amber shoved her books at Ryan and he
relented, taking the stack. Two concert tickets fell out. He lifted
them from the table, and read the name of the band. “Lincoln
Park.”

Amber’s face paled. She backed up then she
stepped forward with a large toothy smile. “Surprise. Uh, you can
go Thursday. Right? If you can’t, I understand.”

“Yeah. That’s cool, thanks.”

“You know Saturday got a little out of hand.
So I wanted to make it up to you. I don’t know what you heard
but…”

Ryan shrugged off her apology. “I didn’t know
you knew I liked them, thanks.”

* * *

At lunch, Cassie noticed that Amber hadn’t
joined Ryan yet, so she tossed him a brown paper bag on the way to
her table. She returned Megan’s greeting as she walked by and made
room for her when Megan joined them. Ryan followed too and slid in
on the other side of Mike and Sierra.

Amber joined them next. “What’s in the bag?
It’s a little large for cookies. Have we moved up to cakes?” She
plopped onto a seat beside Ryan, opened a Tupperware container, and
speared a forkful of lettuce.

Cassie bit her lip. Why were they sitting at
her table?

Mike snatched the bag before Cassie could
stop him and stuck his hand inside. “I want a cupcake.” He lifted
out Ryan’s shirt and unfolded it with a frown. Cassie shook her
head at him with wide eyes, but Mike didn’t know the meaning of
discretion.

Amber pointed at the shirt with her fork.
“What’s that?”

“Souvenir from your walk of shame?” Mike
asked.

“Is that
your shirt, Ryan
?” Amber’s
voice rose with each word. Reaching into Ryan’s pocket, she
retrieved the pair of concert tickets. “Fine, we’re not going
then.” She slammed the lid on her Tupperware.

* * *

All the cast and crew waited in the audience
section of the auditorium. Ryan sat on the aisle seat wearing a
baseball cap pulled low over his face. He slumped and thrummed his
fingers on the armrest. Every few seconds, he looked toward the
exit.

“Today, we’re going to do more trust-building
exercises. Half the class will perform a Blind Walk and half will
be a Stretchy Duo.” The director held a blindfold in one hand and
in the other, a long piece of shiny electric blue fabric shaped
like a human-sized pillowcase. “By now you know who your practice
partners are, so if one member of each duo could please come up and
draw an exercise?” The director pointed the blindfold toward a hat
that contained several slips of paper. “If you choose Blind Walk,
blindfold your partner, and lead them around campus. Show them your
blind acceptance of their guidance.”

Sending Ryan a hesitant look, Cassie rose and
followed Sierra to the hat. Ryan didn’t move or look up.

“If you choose Stretchy Duo, climb into the
stretchy tube and explore the elasticity of the fabric and your
emotions.”

Megan let out a small whimper. She was
partnered with Lizard Larry. Cassie didn’t have to read Megan’s
card in order to guess she’d drawn Stretchy Duo. Poor Meg.
Returning to her seat, Cassie flipped over her own card to see
which she and Ryan had drawn.

The card read,
Stretchy Duo.

“We got Blind Walk,” Mike said. “Bummer.”

Ryan snatched the card from Cassie’s fingers
and traded.

How embarrassing. Fine. She didn’t want to
get in a pillowcase with sulky Ryan anyway.

The director said, “Gather your
supplies.”

Ryan held the blindfold toward Cassie. “Turn
around.”

Cassie stared at the black strip of fabric
and his black expression. “No. You turn around.”

The director said, “Spread out. I don’t want
any injuries.”

Students around them moved on while Cassie
and Ryan argued. He crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to
relinquish the blindfold.

“Don’t take it out on me because you’re mad
at Amber.”

“I’m mad at you too.”

“What’d
I
do?” Cassie asked with her
hands out.

His lips tightened, and he didn’t answer.
Cassie stared at him in exasperation. It was like dealing with her
little brother, but without the blood tie, so she didn’t have to
try and make it work. “Fine. Act like a child.” She made a fast
grab for the blindfold and snagged the edge.

Before she could yank it free, the director
snatched the blindfold from both of them. “You two pick a corner,
and explore your boundaries.” She tossed them one of the stretchy
pillowcases.

The electric blue fabric fell to the floor
between them.

“Now.”

Ryan grabbed it and moved to the side aisle.
He kicked off his shoes and got inside the elongated blue
pillowcase.

Cassie kicked off her black canvas sneakers.
“Move over.” She pulled the opening outwards, joined Ryan, and let
go of the side. The fabric snapped around her, encasing her in the
smell of rain-scented fabric softener, and molded her to Ryan.

Ryan stepped away.

Recoiling from his withdrawal, she stepped
backwards. Because the aisle sloped like stadium seating, she
misjudged the distance and lost her footing. The fabric slowed her
descent and she hit the floor on her butt, but she didn’t bounce
back up. The momentum and strength of the fabric pulled Ryan to the
carpet with her.

She lay out flat with her feet higher than
her upper body. “Ugh.” Blood rushed to her head and she sat up at
the same time that Ryan raised to his elbows. The resulting pull of
fabric yanked her in his direction. Swiveling, she pushed on the
back of the fabric. The move knocked him off his elbows. She tried
to stand as he fell backwards, and together they rolled down the
aisle a few more feet. Gravity increased their struggles against
each other, and the elastic.