The Kissing Deadline (21 page)

Ryan gazed into her eyes, but it was too dark
to read his expression. The flashlight had rolled into a groove by
the wall, and it hadn’t emitted that much of a glow to start
with.

The music shut off.

The door to the tent shook, and a dull
metallic clink accompanied the rise of the zipper. Coach muttered
something about cheap canvas from outside the tent.

Cassie pushed Ryan off and rolled onto all
fours.

Coach yanked at the stuck zipper without
success. “Why aren’t you two in the gym?”

Ryan wiggled the tab from the other side,
slid the zipper up a foot, and crawled out. “We’re sheltering in
place.”

Cassie slithered out after him.

Coach assessed the room, noting their efforts
at securing it. He nodded. “All clear.”

Ryan pulled her to her feet. She blinked
against the sudden brightness of the overhead fluorescent
lights.

Coach stared pointedly at their clasped hands
until they let go, then he looked from them to the biohazard tent.
“I should probably send a note home to your parents.” He sounded
reluctant, as he always did at the mention of paperwork.

Cassie shook her head, heart thumping at the
embarrassing thought.

Ryan said quickly, “There was no food in the
survival kit.”

“We’ll call it even then,” Coach said. “You
two go straight to the gym. Shoes first, Cassie.”

Several of the cast worked on building a
pyramid out of their red post-it flags, a minor but healthy
rebellion. Brooke left the construction effort to join Cassie at
one of the tables. “I just heard Kristnaldo went home with
mono.”

“I’m not kissing him anyway,” Cassie said, in
her own minor rebellion.

The director clapped to get everyone’s
attention. “Before we start the last rehearsal for act three, I
have good news.” She gestured and the cast gathered in front of
her. “As you all know, we went over-budget due to the STOP
committee's appropriation of our art supplies.”

Amber raised her hand.

The director ignored her. “Another school
group has stepped up to help with the funding.”

Brooke said, “Which one?”

“The gun club. And they approved the script
with all the affection back in.”

Amber lifted her hand again. The director
ignored her again. “They do have a small request, so we’re going to
have to change up the ending a bit.” She lifted a long gun from
underneath her table. “We’ll call it a musket.”

Flash.
Paige took a photo.

“They didn't have shotguns in medieval
villages,” Brooke pointed out for the sake of accuracy. “It’s an
anachronism.”

“Again, it’s a musket,” the director
said.

Brooke shook her head again, but didn’t
correct her.

The director held the gun out to Larry. He
took it and caressed the barrel. Putting his eye to the scope, he
adjusted the sights.

* * *

One cast member held up a sign, ‘
The
Dragon’s Nest:
Act III’ and he rolled a backdrop in front of
the shop. The set now looked like the woods.

Ryan and Cassie held hands and stared into
each other’s eyes, oblivious to the others. The villagers peered on
the ground and through the trees.

“Look, there.” Larry pointed to several
eggshells and red, green, and blue gemstones on the ground.

Ryan picked up a green gemstone and handed it
to Cassie. She took his offering and clutched the gem to her
heart.

“They left us a clear trail to the dragon's
lair,” Mike said in a bored tone.

Ryan lifted Cassie over several broken
eggs.

“It’s clear, but not as clear as my love for
you, Yourgath.”

Ryan drew his sword. Cassie lifted his sword
hand and kissed each finger. She shoved his burlap sleeve up and
placed kisses from his wrist to the inside of his elbow. Then she
rubbed her tongue over the last spot she kissed.

“Line,” the director called from the wings.
“Line, Ryan.”

Ryan ignored her and grabbed Cassie’s elbows
to pull her toward him.

The director said, “Ryan, line: Tonight
we…”

Ryan let Cassie go and brandished his sword
again. “Tonight, we end this. We dine on dragon or we don’t feast
at all.” He led the villagers in a forward charge out of sight.

* * *

Sierra shoved Cassie into the girl’s
bathroom. “Did you know they broke up? Mike said they broke
up.”

The janitor rolled her yellow cart toward the
door and sprayed a stream of lemon scent over their heads and one
on the new automatic faucet and hands-free soap dispensers.
Click.
The door shut behind her.

“Yeah. He told me at his house.”

Sierra put her hands on her hips and tilted
her head. “Well, what happened?”

Cassie shrugged. “I don’t know. He just said
they broke up.”

“Why don’t you know more?”

“Ask Mike, I don’t know why. We didn’t talk
about it.”

“You went over there? What did you do?”
Sierra snapped her fingers and made the trust fall motion with her
hands. Cassie nodded.

“You did it.” Sierra laughed.

“Yeah, I didn’t trust him, so we did it on
his bed.”

“And?”

“It was fun,” Cassie said. “Ryan was way
better the second time.”

“How could he not be?” Sierra rubbed the back
of her head. She stowed her lipstick and headed to the door. “All
he had to do was catch you.”

“I know. I was going to kill him if I hit the
ground again.” Cassie saw a weird flash and turned her head toward
the bathroom stall, but there wasn’t anything out of the
ordinary.

* * *

Inside Larry’s barn, the cast relaxed on
barrels of hay laid out in a circle. Larry handed out revised
script pages, with the Iguana resting upon his shoulders. “Gun club
suggested a few new lines, so let’s run through them to see which
works best.”

Larry's mom set a cooler of Red Bull down in
front of the teens, with the little terrier, Sweetie, at her heels.
His chocolate muzzle poked at dark holes in the hay bale as if
searching for another rat. Failing to find his prey, he lifted his
small head and trotted toward Cassie. Cassie flinched out of
reach.

Larry’s mom tilted her head and scooped up
the robust terrier. “Their mouths are cleaner than human mouths.”
She cradled him in her arms. Sweetie’s tongue lolled out of the
side of his narrow snout and slicked across his nose as he was
carried from the barn.

Larry pointed to Cassie, and the Iguana
flicked its tongue. She scooted back. “Okay, gun club extra lines
take one. Go.”

Cassie unlocked her gaze from the Iguana and
checked out her script. “Lock and load, boys.” She jabbed a piece
of rough hay at Sierra.

“This time it’s personal.” Sierra shoved back
with her shoulder.

Larry said, “We're loaded for dragon.”

“Let’s show that winged mother we mean
business,” Ryan quipped.

* * *

Trallwyn High School Dragon Scoop Friday,
March 23rd

See you all at the Spring Fling Dance
tonight: $10 per couple. $8 per individual.

Saturday & Sunday 2pm: School production
of “The Dragon’s Nest”: Tickets $5-see Larry Harkins, the Gun Club,
or purchase at the door $7.

Half the chairs were empty in Cassie’s health
class. She and seven girls remained. These girls included Cheryl in
her flannel, Lynn with her uni-brow and five others with striking
social ailments. Sierra had dropped the nickname uni-brow and had
begun using Chia Pet references in regards to Lynn. Her brows were
out of control, but Cassie hated the new nickname because it was
all she could think of when she looked at Lynn: Sierra singing,
“Cha, Cha, Cha, Chia.” Cassie tried to smile at Lynn, and thought
maybe she’d take her aside after class and mention something about
a cool new razor brand she found or a great new shaving cream.

“You eight girls can congratulate yourselves
on your moral superiority,” the teacher said, “You are the ones
without mono.”

Cassie wrapped her arms around herself,
feeling a sinking sensation and looked around.

“Yeah,” Cheryl said. “We'll call ourselves
the
Untouched Eight
.”

“Please,” Cassie said. “Let’s not.”

“Um, I'm sorry, but Cassie's been flagged, so
she can't be a member of the untouched.” Lynn’s heavy brow
lifted.

Cassie muttered to herself, “Thank God.”

“Fine, the
Untouched Seven
then.”
Cheryl tilted her chin in the air.

“I can’t believe she only got one flag after
what she did,” Lynn said. The girl beside her giggled and wiggled
her cell phone.

Cassie glared at her. Geez, it was a fake
stage kiss. Their moral superiority was getting out of hand.

* * *

Cassie spotted an antenna from across the
commons. Having promised her BFFs she’d try everything, she turned
with resolve toward the table where the Sewer Six always sat. She
neared them and was forced to stop. The Sewer Six had been joined
by the Untouched Seven. They were clearly couples now and one guy
had two girls. Her last kissing plan option had died, and it was
not a beautiful death.

She retreated down the unusually quiet
hallway. Classes had been fairly empty all day, but Cassie thought
it was more due to people skipping in order to get dressed for the
dance than the mono outbreak. That’s what Sierra had done. She was
having her nails manicured right now.

A couple of girls stood nearby, giggling over
a cell phone. They giggled louder when Cassie walked by.

Cassie wished she had a cell phone.

The warning bell rang for English class, but
before she got much further, Brooke grabbed her arm and tugged her
toward the girl’s room. “Come with me.”

Cassie checked her watch. “We’ll be late,”
Cassie said with a smile. That was usually Brooke’s line.

Brooke swallowed, looked away, then firmed
her shoulders. She clicked a button on her phone and passed it
over.

It played:

“You did it.” Sierra laughed.

“Yeah,” Cassie said. “I didn’t trust him. So
we did it on his bed.”

“And?”

“It was fun. Ryan was way better the second
time.”

“How could he not be?”

Cassie gasped. Some little mole had worn a
camera into her world and had taken video of her, then replayed the
clip out of context. Way out of context.

“Let’s skip last period.” Brooke led a
silent, embarrassed Cassie toward her car.

* * *

The weight of Brooke’s garment bag made the
metal hangers bite into her fingers so Cassie shifted it over her
shoulder to alleviate the pressure and waved Brooke ahead of her.
Two steps up, she froze.

Smooching sounds came from the living room.
Spencer was kissing some girl.

Her little brother had beaten her to a kiss.
She climbed the rest of the way with her gaze on the steps. The
image of Spencer’s kiss was salt in the wound of her failure.

Brooke tried to look optimistic, but Cassie
saw through her over-wide smile.
How do I convince her to let me
just stay home?
Cassie closed her bedroom door behind them. The
rumors would be crazy, and she’d rather be alone when her sweet
sixteen deadline passed in failure. “Maybe I should stay home
tonight.”

“Nope. That will make it harder on Monday.
Chin up. We’re going.” Brooke unzipped her garment bag and took out
her coral-colored dress. “Even if you don’t get kissed at least
people won’t know it.”

Cassie gaped at her then she laughed and told
Brooke her mole-world animal planet theory.

“I feel your pain, but you’re going. Get
dressed. Tonight’s going to be fun.”

Cassie doubted that, but she didn’t know how
to back out, so she lifted the hanger holding her own dress. The
cream-colored fabric draped around a fitted bodice and floated to
the floor. Straps made out of two strands of faux pearls held up
the heart-shaped neckline. She was glad she hadn’t chosen red, one
of their high school’s colors--scarlet woman colors.

Brooke helped her curl the back of her hair
and braid a small piece along the front. “Done,” Brooke said. She
weaved a quick braid in her own hair and said, “Grab the
hairspray.”

Cassie went after it. The product hissed as
the coconut-mango mist released from the can. It took extra sprays
to hold her hair in place given Houston's humidity, so she gave
another shake and spray, doing her best not to think about cell
phones. When she came back and offered the product to Brooke, she
was busy whispering into her phone.

Cassie clipped on her jewelry and yelled
toward the speaker, “Hi, Sierra.”

“Okay, Yeah, I'll ask.” Brooke hung up and
slipped on her stilettos.

“What?”

“Sierra wants to know why Ryan isn’t taking
you to the Spring Fling, since you did it on his bed and all.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “It’s going to be a
long night of these jokes, isn’t it?”

“Probably a long year.” Brooke used the
hairspray and dropped the can when her phone beeped. “Ooh, a
message from Sierra,” She skimmed the screen. “Sierra forwarded a
text. Kristnaldo doesn't have mono. The doctor said he had a
24-hour bug, and everyone in the high school is just paranoid.”

Cassie smiled then winced. “Do I really want
to chance it?” She picked up her small pearl-encrusted evening
purse.

“Probably not. Anyway, Sierra said for you to
stop worrying because the fund-raising jar will work.”

Spencer walked into her room. “Jar for
what?”

Cassie examined him closely. Good, no cell
phone in sight. Her clip about Ryan must not have made it to the
freshmen. Thank God. “Nothing. Just one of Sierra's projects.”