Kissing Clarisse: A Young Adult Short Story Read online



  Kissing Clarisse

  A Young Adult Short Story

  Katie Hayoz

  Kissing Clarisse: a young adult short story

  Copyright ©2013 by Katie Hayoz

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the express written permission of copyright holder.

  This story is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover image: Red Lips 2 © Pokerman | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Image

  Kissing Clarisse

  1957, Nowheresville, USA

  It was dark inside. Perfect. I turned the knob and stepped into blackness.

  “It’s gonna work, Scottie. You can do it, no problem.” Marcus smacked me on the shoulder and took off.

  “Yeah,” I said to no one. I wasn’t so sure I should be here; I wasn’t sure if what I was doing was wrong. But then I knew if I didn’t go through with it I would never get so close to Clarisse. So I felt my way around to behind the Chevy Impala and both hoped and dreaded she wouldn’t take long in coming. Standing in the dark and watching the luminescent dial on my watch, I waited.

  ***

  Clarisse Davies was by far the hottest chick in the 10th grade. When any of us guys would get together to listen to Elvis or toss a football or even just to smoke a bit behind the field house during school breaks, the conversation always turned to her: her lips, her legs, her hair. Everything about her. But most of all we talked about who’d get with her first. There were guys who boasted they’d be playing backseat bingo with her by the end of the year, but we all knew this was bull. None of us had done anything other than hold a girl’s hand. Well, none of us except Jay. You could tell by looking at him that he’d been with just about every girl he’d ever met. Who knew, maybe even their mothers.

  But he wasn’t with us when we talked about Clarisse. He was drawing designs on her out near the front steps of the school, so sure of himself in his scuffed leather jacket. He was probably the only one among us who really had a chance at her. Hell, he was the only one among us who was able to talk to her without tripping on his own tongue.

  “Look at Jay. What is he saying to her, anyway?” Marcus glared at the two of them from his spot on the rusty bucket near the field house wall.

  I swaggered toward Marcus and struck the same pose Jay did in front of Clarisse. Speaking out the side of my mouth, I growled, “Hi, baby. Wanna get with me? I’m rotting from disease since I’ll do it with anything that moves, but hey! It’ll be worth it, Sweetcakes, I promise.”

  The guys laughed, but Marcus stared at me with his eyebrows all screwed up. “You sound just like him when you do that, Scottie.”

  I kept the left side of my mouth closed and spoke only out of the right. “You mean when I do this?”

  “Yeah! Right! You could use that! You could call up the dolls and pretend you’re Jay and insult them or something.”

  “Nah, I don’t want to do that. I mean he’s kind of a nosebleed, but he’s not that bad.”

  “Alright, something else. Let me think. I’ll think of something.” He got up and all of us walked back to the building as we heard the bell ring. He would think of something. He always did. Marcus had all sorts of plans all the time. Like the one that almost blew us up in the Chem lab. Or the one where Rodney Zimmer ended up getting his braces stuck in Melissa Schimanek’s hair. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be in on one of his plans.

  But two periods later he scouted me in the hallway on my way to History. He yelled out my name and gave me a thumbs up, “I’ve figured it out, Scottie boy!” We didn’t have time to talk, though. The late bell rang thirty seconds later, just enough time for me to slide into my seat and avoid being shouted at by Mr. O’Brien. The Russians had sent up Sputnik the week before and, according to him, won the space race. He’d been in a bad mood since. We were stuck on satellites and communism instead of working on World War One.

  Fifty minutes later I met Marcus by the green dumpster and we set off for home together. Marcus was jazzed.

  “OK. I’ve got it.” He walked faster than usual. “You use Jay’s voice and you call Clarisse and say that you’ve been thinking about her lips and that you have to feel them on your own or you’ll go crazy—”

  “What!”

  “The chicks like it when you say that kind of stuff.”

  “How would you know? The only girl you’ve ever gotten close to was your cousin Lydia and she only dated you so that she wouldn’t have to go alone to the Homecoming dance.”

  Marcus glared at me for a couple seconds then continued as if I’d said nothing. “Anyway, you tell her to meet you in the garage at Val’s party tomorrow night. If we keep the lights off she’ll never know you’re not Jay.”

  “Jay’s taller than I am.”

  “So you sit down on the car. She’ll never know.”

  “He’s got more muscles.”

  “So we take his leather jacket from him somehow and you wear it. She won’t be able to tell you’re not Muscle Man.”

  He had an answer for everything. But the truth was I wasn’t comfortable with tricking Clarisse. I mean, yeah, it would be great to lock lips her and all, but wasn’t pretending to be Jay pretty low? I mean, wasn’t it kind of treating her like what she wanted didn’t matter?

  Marcus felt me hesitate. “Just think you will have been the only one among us to have kissed Clarisse.”

  “Yeah, but she won’t know it was me. It’s not like I’ll be able to do it again the next day.”

  “No, but you will have done it. It’s better than nothing. Come on! If someone asked you if you’d rather kiss Clarisse one time or no times what would you respond?”

  “One time, but—”

  “Case closed.” We were in front of my house. I told Marcus I wasn’t going to promise anything, and he shrugged like it didn’t matter but I knew he was hoping I’d say yes. He continued towards his place and I trudged up the front steps and through my front door.

 

  My sister Jennifer was by the mirror in the front hallway piling on another layer of makeup to the three inch base coat she’d already lay down. She’s my fraternal twin. They say all sorts of things about twins. Mostly they say twins have a special relationship and blah, blah, blah. They obviously have never had to live with Jennifer. Our relationship is the most special when she’s not around.

  We go to the same school but she gets a ride home from one of her friends, so she gets back like twenty minutes before I do. Then she usually gets picked up by someone else and goes out again ‘til dinner. She actually studies in study hall and so she never has much homework. I can’t deal with the thick walls and the silence in the classroom. I can only work in front of Gunsmoke or American Bandstand.

  “I don’t know why you bother,” I said to her, dumping my bag near the front door. “Even with makeup you’re still a skag.”

  She kept adding layers. “Get bent, dipstick.”

  I walked to the kitchen and grabbed some cookies from the cookie jar. Opening the fridge to get some milk, I yelled, “Who’re you going with today? Samantha? You both going to hang out at the kennel with the rest of your family members?”

  “That would be your home, Chihuahua face.”

  “Ha ha.” I pushed some cheddar aside. No milk.

  Jennifer paused a second then yelled out, all snooty-like, “It’s none of you
r beeswax, but if you have to know, I’m going with Clarisse.”

  I stopped looking for the milk. “Clarisse Davies?”

  “Um hum.”

  I shut the fridge and walked back to the front hall. Jennifer was now doing something to her hair, looking smug. “I didn’t think you were friends with Clarisse.”

  “That’s ‘cuz we didn’t have any classes together. But she changed English classes and sits next to me now. We’re going shopping to find something to wear to Val’s party.”

  “You’re friends with Clarisse?”

  Now she stopped messing with her hair and looked at me. “What? You’re just like every other guy in school and have the hots for her, right?”

  “No, I just…well, I just --”

  She laughed. “Scott, you’re short and have monkey breath. Unless your name is Jay you might as well forget it. Jay is the only boy worth looking at in school.”

  A car pulled into our driveway and honked.

  “I’m not that short; I’m taller than Clarisse,” I said, standing up as straight as possible.

  Jennifer rolled her eyes and giggled, then ran out the door. I peered out the front window and saw three girls in a ragtop. I got a glimpse of Clarisse before they drove off, her blonde hair shining in the sun.

  “Argh!” I kicked my bag and slammed my fist against the wall. I would do it. I would put Marcus’ plan into action.

  I called Marcus and told him about Jennifer’s sudden friendship with Clarisse. Marcus said that he heard Jay was going to make a move on Clarisse at Val’s party, so we would have to get to her before he did. We decided that I would call Clarisse’s house after dinner using Jay’s voice. I wasn’t sure it would work, but I was willing to give it a try.

  After dinner I sprinted upstairs to my room, hoping I’d get the phone call in before Jennifer finished doing the dishes and taking out the trash. We swapped chores every other day, and I figured I had about ten minutes if she took as long as I did. I didn’t want to risk her picking up the horn while I was on it.

  Sweat from my hands smeared the ink in the phonebook as I looked for Clarisse’s number. I took a deep breath, each rhythmic click-click-click of the rotary dial making my heart beat faster. When I finally got through all the numbers and it began to ring on the other end, I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to talk to her.

  “Hello?” It was her. Oh, no. It was her.

  I spoke out of the right side of my mouth only. “Huh...Hello.” Real smooth, Scott.

  “Who is this?”

  “Jay.”

  “Jay?” Little giggle. “Hello! Hi.”

  Downstairs I heard the back door slam. Jennifer was taking out the garbage. I had to hurry.

  “I think about you all the time. I need to see you before Val’s party. Meet me in his garage at 7:30 tomorrow night. Alone.” My voice sounded perfect, but I still felt like my nerve endings were on fire.

  It took her forever to answer. She just breathed into the phone for like an eternity until she finally said, “Alright. I will.”

  The back door slammed again. I had about thirty seconds before Jennifer would pick up the phone to call one of her sweat hog friends. “Don’t tell anyone. See you. ‘Bye.”

  “’Bye.”

  I hung up victorious. It was so easy, I almost didn’t believe it. I decided to call Marcus before Jennifer got to the phone, but it rang before I could.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hi. Is Jennifer there? It’s Clarisse.” I felt my mouth drop open. Clarisse! My heart pounded blood into my ears and I froze.

  “Hello?” Clarisse said again.

  I put the phone to my chest and yelled, “Jennifer!”

  Thirty minutes later Jennifer hung up and called Samantha, screeching out the news of my (well, Jay’s) meeting with Clarisse in Val’s garage. I was dead meat. How was I going to pull it off now?

  I have no idea how I survived school Friday. All the girls kept giggling and exchanging whispers all day. It was only by sheer miracle that Jay didn’t find out that he was supposed to be in Val’s garage that night. I almost called the whole thing off, but Marcus wouldn’t let me. He’d keep Jay busy, he said. And the other guys would make sure that no one came in or saw me.

  I had no excuse. I had to do it.

  At 6:30 Jennifer locked herself in the bathroom.

  “Jennifer!” I banged on the door.

  “I’m getting ready!” she yelled, which is code for “I’m trying all I can to look moderately human despite my insane ugliness.” Great. That meant she’d be in there all night preparing bait.

  “Come on! I’ve got to brush my teeth!”

  But she wouldn’t come out, so I poured a package of mints into my mouth, changed my shirt for the third time and splashed on some cologne. I didn’t have Jay’s leather jacket so I lifted the barbells that were collecting dust in the back of my closet and squeezed my biceps twenty times. I read somewhere that your muscles stay inflated for a while after working out. I was hoping it was true.

  Marcus had his old man’s tank, so he drove me and a couple other guys to Val’s. My mouth was stinging with minty freshness and I wondered if I’d be able to move my arms they hurt so much. But beyond all that pain, I felt kind of woozy.

  I was going to kiss Clarisse.