It happens so abruptly, I let out a startled gasp, which means my mouth is slightly open when we meet. Pine and cigarette smoke flood my senses. We never discussed tongue, but he seems to take my parted lips to mean that he’s supposed to test those waters, too. His crooked nose slides against my cheek as he deepens the kiss. At that, an avalanche cracks open inside my skull, drowning me in a deafening chorus of shrieks and screams; a massive, continental shift that is so profound, it obliterates everything that comes after it.
I don’t know how long I spin inside the aftershocks. I’m barely sensible of myself. There’s nothing to guide my body other than instinct and without mental intervention, my physical form just keeps kissing him. My hands tighten around the collar of his shirt as his tongue curls against mine. A softmmmcomes out of me. I press in further, brain gloriously blank. Even my legs are moving on their own, climbing towards his lap.
That’s when he breaks away, shoving me back to my own side of the bench. Cold air rushes in where he used to be and with it, my conscience.
What the hell was that? In a weird way, it doesn’t even feel like I was there for it. As I catch my breath, my mind’s eye scans over the rubble left behind by the mental avalanche. It’s a jumbled mess, the scattered boulders made up of worry over April, guilt on behalf of Curtis, and horror at how easily my body remembered how to kiss a man. But also… relief. We could pull this off. My experiment was a success.
I’ve got a lifetime of bad memories to get in the way of another relationship. But rather than overwhelming me, the cacophony renders me numb. It’s perfect. I could go to town on him without feeling a thing.
“So… what do you think?” he asks.
I touch my mouth, analyzing the sensations of the past minute. “Sid?”
“Yeah?”
“You said you’re trying to quit smoking?”
“Oh shit.” He hides his face in his hands. “I am so sorry. I didn’t think—”
“No, it’s fine, just… keep working on it, I guess.” I feel like an asshole, but what am I supposed to say? Tell him he’s a good kisser? Even if it’s true, what a weird thing to say to a friend! “Maybe we try for no aftertaste next time?”
“Next time?” He straightens to attention. Even seated on a bench, his height is intimidating. My heart hasn’t stopped hammering since he kissed me, but it grows even more frantic as another instinct takes hold—the same part of my brain that fired a slingshot at him a month ago. But that version of Kayla wasn’t the one who surfaced during the kiss. The paranoid side of me is weaker than the part that trusts him.
I nod, before I lose my nerve. “I think we could do this, if you still want to.”
“I do.”
What an ominous phrase.
“April runs out of insulin in a few days,” I say. “How fast can we get this done?”
“We can go to City Hall tomorrow,” he says. “I can ask Silas and James to serve as witnesses.”
“Tomorrow, then. Great.” Now that it’s decided, I can’t get away from him fast enough. I hop off the log and dust bits of bark from my pants, hoping it hides how much my hands are shaking. “And then… maybe we can stop by the hospital? Get Doctor Tremblay to put April’s care in your name?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Great. Thank you.” I stare at him, knowing I should say more. Words should be easier with the man who will be my husband tomorrow. “You’re… You’re a really good friend.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
We both make laughing noises. Ha ha ha. This is so funny. What a quirky friendship we have!
At that I salute him. (Yes, a salute. What are my hands doing? My body is clearly still confused.) Then I take off towards the unit I share with April. Though… that probably is about to change, too. If I marry Sid, that means I’m staying long-term, and Silas will want his place back.
If I were braver, I would have stayed with Sid and started hashing those details out. For another thing, what’s expected of me as a politician’s wife? But whatever it is, I’ll do it. It’s not a lot to ask, if it means I can take care of my sister.
“DO YOU REMEMBERhow to do factoring?” April asks over a bowl of oatmeal the next morning, notebook propped open in front of her.
“They’ve got you going to a factory at school?” I ask which prompts April to heave a laborious sigh. “No?”
“Kayla, it’s amaththing. I’ll just ask a teacher.”
“Yeah… that’s probably for the best.” I’m not in the right condition for a long conversation, anyway. If April finds out what I’m planning, she will have opinions and I’m not interested in making this a committee decision. Luckily, she’s so consumed with worries about school that she doesn’t notice my hands shaking as I eat.
As we finish our food, Carlos knocks on the door, saying they need to catch the bus. I follow her out, under the pretext that I want to wave goodbye. The whole time, I can feel Sid’s eyes on me, even though he’s on the other side of the acreage, scattering feed for the chickens. I avoid looking at him, only to find James and Silas also staring at me; Silas with a scowl and James with all fifty million shark teeth on display. At least no one says anything untilApril and Carlos are gone. Once the school wagon rolls past the drive, our younger charges aboard, all bets are off. James throws his arms wide.
“Salutations to you upon this most blessed of days!”
