The Kiss (4 page)

She shook her head, wishing she could come up with some brilliant retort, that she could make that smug smile disappear with a few well chosen words. Nothing came to her.

Nothing but Nate.

Sure, he wasn’t there to
help
her. If anything, he meant to cheer his friend on. “Why bother?” he asked Greg in a bored tone, putting a hand on the taller man’s shoulder. “She’s not innocent enough for you anymore. Shouldn’t you be moving on to your next victim?”

She thought he winked at her but couldn’t say for sure. His words were like a slap to her face that snapped her out of the fantasy that Greg would somehow magically revert to the man she loved. Her head swam with the realization
she
wasn’t
the one
in the wrong. Greg was a bastard and would remain one forever. She was just another notch in his belt.

She kneed her one-time-lover in the groin.

When he folded over, cupping his sore privates, she pushed him away and returned to the dance-floor.

***

It amazed her how the memories no longer hurt. Instead, she tried to place her date for the evening into the events. He had always been in the background, giving her shy smiles or sympathetic looks. Bill had never been in on the
mocking
, and that made him one of the good guys in her books.

Then again, he’d never exactly tried to save her from them, either, until Greg had stopped acting like an asshole. Only then had Bill started talking back at Nate when the latter had tried to humiliate her.

She guessed it was easier for him to stand up to one of his friends than to two.

She shrugged and reapplied her lip-gloss. A glance at her watch told her it was time to get going.

Soon she’d know if she’d found her mystery man.

Chapter Five

Bill was right outside the dorm’s main entrance, fidgeting with the lapels of his shirt. He turned to face Eliza the moment she walked out the glass doors. His eyes widened when he took in the low cut spaghetti-strap top and the short flower-patterned skirt.

She hoped his expression was in appreciation, which definitely wasn’t the reason her own eyes widened. She hadn’t had high expectations concerning his attire—she
had
seen him before, after all—but the flashy Hawaiian shirt he wore wasn’t exactly first date material, if you asked her.

She gave him a little finger wave, which he possibly missed, considering his gaze kept shifting towards her legs.

“Short—skirt
short
. Nice—” He coughed and gave it another try. “What I tried to say before I choked on my own shoelaces was,
hello, Eliza
.” He approached her, visibly trying to think of what to do next before settling for a half-hug, half-pat-on-the-back that could have crushed her shoulder blade had it been a teensy bit stronger.

His greetings obviously weren’t any more his strong point than his fashion sense was, but he was kind of cute.

***

Bill told her he wanted to take her somewhere nice but didn’t feel like doing the cliché dinner-and-a-movie thing, so they’d go for movie-and-surprise-late-dinner instead.

“Do you mind walking?” he asked. “I tried to borrow my cousin’s car, but he had a hot date—Not that you’re not hot. You’re pretty and all. And the skirt—” He raised his face to the evening sky. “God, I need more practice at this.”

She giggled at his antics and linked her arm through his. “Nothing to practice, Bill. Unless you need extra lessons in walking. Now put one foot in front of the other and lead the way.”

Chatting with him was easy, relaxed, she discovered during their fifteen minute walk to the movies, where Bill gleefully told her they had a showing of
Barbarella
. He was shocked she’d never seen it. She was shocked he took her to a movie that was supposedly all about sex on their first date, but reluctantly agreed to give it the benefit of the doubt.

By the time the movie was over, Eliza had to agree it was a classic and couldn’t stop laughing at Bill’s gushing over
Jane Fonda
—
quote:
at her best
. On the way out of the theater, she casually held her hand out, but was too engrossed by the posters announcing soon-to-come flicks to see it.

On their way to dinner, they started talking about superheroes and favorite childhood cartoons.

It was when they reached their destination that Eliza got worried. The park at night? Maybe Bill had something in mind other than a romantic first date, and judging by his friends…

He must have sensed her unease, because he patted her hand lightly before unlocking it from his arm. “It’s a picnic,” he said. “See?”

She did see. There, by the root of a huge tree, lay a checkered blanket, a big wicker basket on its center. With a sigh of relief, she followed Bill to the spot he’d chosen for their date and offered to help set things up.

“No need; I’m the man.” He thumped his chest for emphasis. “I can handle it.”

It soon became obvious that he couldn’t.

He brought two long red candles out of the basket, only to realize there was no way they’d stand
on
the blanket, even if he
’d
remembered to bring candleholders. Flustered, he started trying to inch them into the ground next to the blanket, but gave up after breaking one of them in two.

Eliza could see his face fall with disappointment. “I’m sure the light coming from the street is enough for us to enjoy our meal and each other’s company,” she said.

It was that last bit,
each other’s company
, that seemed to turn Bill’s frown upside down. He cast the useless candles aside and motioned towards the woolen throw on the ground. “After you, Milady.”

The night chill had started creeping up her bare legs, and Eliza happily did as he bid. Two things became evident, though. Firstly, her strappy sandals were more for show than for walking; the heel of the right one gave way, sending her to land on her butt and taking away any possible shred of grace that could be involved in trying to sit on the ground while wearing a short skirt. Secondly, when one decided to go on a picnic, one had better made sure they did so somewhere
dry
.

Sudden falls have the unpleasant side effect of sending a flowing skirt upwards, and Eliza’s naked ass came in contact with the soggy cover with a wet
smack
.

Bill winced. He’d just managed to sit down cross-legged without spilling a drop from either of the two glasses of wine he’d stupidly filled
before
trying to take a seat, and he had no free hand to help her with. Instead he squirmed, opening and closing his mouth, obviously searching for something to say.

“My side is dry,” he finally blurted.

“I bet it is.”

Eliza assessed the damage to her shoe—the heel wasn’t broken, luckily, just not very steady—while at the same time trying to bring her knees under her and move off the yuckiness without flashing him. The desire to glare at him was squashed by how helpless he looked.

She could tell her date was suddenly struck by an idea, as if by lightning. His spine went ramrod straight, and his right arm spasmed, as if he started raising it to smack his forehead before remembering it held a glass of wine.

“Here.” He passed both glasses to her. “We’ll move the whole thing toward the road. It’s bound to be less humid and better lit there.” He winked.

She reached out but miscalculated the distance, or maybe Bill moved, and watched in horror as liquid splashed the front of his jeans, all the way down to mid-thigh.

“Incredibly, I feel less of an ass now.” He chuckled.

His good mood was contagious, and when he found his footing and helped her up, Eliza realized she was grinning.

The next place they decided on turned out to be extremely close to an anthill.

Eliza started jumping around, swatting at her hair—despite Bill’s reassurances that there was no way the creepy crawlies could have gotten into it since she caught on to them when they’d barely passed her toes on their way up.

“I don’t care. I can feel them everywhere!” She saw Bill’s gaze zero in on her cleavage. “So not the right time.” She was getting pissed at him, when he started pointing too.

She looked down and had to cross her eyes before she picked out the moving black spot on her top. It seemed to be racing toward her skin. “
Get it off
,” she shrieked, but panic kept her from holding still while Bill made every valiant effort to remove the threat without groping her.

She shrieked again when the fifth-of-an-inch monster set foot on the swell of her breast.

Bill was pulling on the material at the front of her top, when a handbag knocked him on the head.

The old lady attached to its handle started landing blows on all parts of his anatomy and calling him a pervert. He tried hard to fend off the blows without harming the woman, while Eliza kept telling her there was a misunderstanding.

When Eliza’s words finally sunk in, the woman turned to her, called her
a slut who puts out in parks,
and left with one more swing at Bill’s back.

Still, the date might have survived even that, if it hadn’t started raining right then.

It was by no means a storm—just enough of a drizzle to ruin any chance of a picnic. Returning Bill’s defeated look, Eliza asked what he’d prepared for dinner. When he said it was hotdogs, she suggested they ate them while walking back to the dorm.

They did just that, walking side by side, chewing in companionable silence that was only interrupted by Bill showing off how he could down half a hot-dog in one bite…and choking on it.

All in all, the evening was fun. Not the sort of fun a girl would like to have with
the one
, but Eliza kept reminding herself that the sooner he took her to the dorm, the sooner she’d find out if he really was that one. And if he was, well, they’d get plenty of chances to have the perfect moonlit dinner in the park.

She tried hard to not pay any mind to the small voice in the back of her head that insisted she’d have felt
some
attraction to him if he was her kisser-in-the-dark. Besides, it was not like she’d ever felt any attraction towards any of the guys who’d been close to her that night at
The Zoo
.

Again she ignored the little voice calling her a liar.

Finally outside her dorm, she turned to face Bill, who was wiping mustard off his upper lip. “Thank you,” she said. “It was fun.”

“
Yeah, that’s me. Billy-boy is all about the fun
.” He sounded sad, and she knew then that she’d kiss him anyway, just to make him smile.

“Goodnight.” She stepped on the top of three stairs and leaned into him, waiting for him to close the distance. He reflexively pulled back, however, making her stumble and fall forward. To steady her, he closed his arms around her waist in an awkward grasp. Their faces were half an inch apart.

He wasn’t going to kiss her; she could tell he was too shy. So
she
kissed
him
, seeking in the touch of his lips even a glimpse of the soul-shaking sensations the stranger’s lips had evoked in her a few nights earlier.

All she felt was a hint of pork and mustard.

***

Krista ambushed Eliza the moment she came in through the door.

“How was it? Is it
him
?” She threw a quick glance at her watch and went on, not giving Eliza time to reply. “Uh-oh, you’re back early. Why are you back early?” She started pacing, inadvertently blocking Eliza from getting to her own bed and taking her sandals off.

“Krissy—” She tried sidestepping her best friend, but to no avail. For a tiny girl, Krista sure took up too much space.

“Unless
you’re
back early, and he’s on his way up, but you came first to tell me to get out of here so you two could have some private time to—”

Eliza held up a hand. “Finish that sentence and die.”

“That bad?”

“Pork and mustard.” Eliza held her hands up in the air, like that explained everything.

Apparently it did. Deflated, Krista dropped onto her bed. “Hotdogs? On the first date?”

“
With
wine, but yeah…” Finally rid of the sandals, Eliza began massaging her feet and grimaced. “Oh,
yuck
! Mud.”

“In the hotdogs?”

“On my feet.” She looked at her hand in disgust. Mud had gotten under her nails.

“But the hotdogs were good?” It was just like Krista to completely ignore the gagging sounds her roommate made, and focus on the important stuff.

“The hotdogs were good.”

“And the date?”

“The date wasn’t.”

“Eh.” Krista punched her defenseless pillow.

“
Eh
is right, my friend, but I will not give up!”

“On Bill?”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “On the mystery guy. If nothing else, I had fun tonight. There was just total lack of sparks, you know?”

Krista nodded. “Oh well, here’s to next time.” She raised an imaginary glass, and Eliza mirrored her gesture before tiptoeing to the bathroom wincing at the squishy sounds her feet made on the carpet.

***

Eliza wasn’t the only one to get drilled that night.

Bill had just turned the corner when he heard the familiar flicker of a Zippo. “Won’t you ever quit the cancer sticks, Nate?” He didn’t even bother to turn toward the sound.

He heard scuffling footsteps, and the next moment his friend was right next to him.

“Not any time soon, no. One of the few pleasures I’ve got.” He pulled in a long puff and then blew the smoke in Bill’s face.

Bill waved the cloud away. “The others being poetry and stalking people?”

“I’m not stalking anyone. Just wanted to see how your big date went.”

Bill wished he’d never told him he was going out with Eliza. Not that he could have avoided it; Nate had seen Krista talk to him and hadn’t missed the goofy grin on Bill’s face after the girl had left. He’d pestered him relentlessly, until Bill had finally fessed up. Nate had been easily convinced not to mention anything to Greg, but Bill knew Nate would never get off his case if he found out about the mess that had been the date.

“It was fine.” He quickened his step, hoping against hope that Nate would change the subject.

“Fine?” Nate grabbed him by the shoulder, making him turn and face him. “It was…
fine
?” He threw his arms up, sending ash flying all over Bill’s shirt. “Could you be any less informative?”

Bill squinted at him in the dark. He didn’t know if it was his imagination, but Nate’s voice sounded slurred. “Are you drunk?”