The Kissing Deadline (4 page)

Cassie gathered her stuff, scooted behind
Brooke, and claimed Amber’s old chair. The chair beside Ryan. Her
heart picked up. She couldn’t remember ever being this close to
him. Ryan and her alone in the back corner. Her mind emptied and
filled with possibilities while her skin tingled.

“Hi,” Ryan said.

Cassie couldn’t make the words form, so she
waved a little in his direction and stared at the beaker.

Ryan passed her a folded triangle. “I didn’t
read your note.”

Liar. Spencer would’ve copied and emailed the
note to everyone within minutes of receipt. Cassie would have at
least read it. How unusual of Ryan. What strong moral fiber. Then
again, he probably just wasn’t interested in what she had to say.
Cassie shoved the note into the pocket of her jeans. She looked
into his green eyes. They seemed sincere. Her shoulders relaxed in
relief. He hadn’t read her words.

Coach Ameen waved a hand at their tables.
“Put them in formation. We’ll mix ‘em tomorrow.”

Cassie wished she could help, but she didn’t
know hockey formation. She watched as Ryan put the bottles in line.
His attention moved from the bottles to the
kiss me
on her
t-shirt. Heat rose in her face, and she looked away, right into
glaring eyes--Amber.

Amber’s narrowed gaze swiveled between Cassie
and Ryan and a smirk replaced her frown. She shuffled through her
folder and held up a copy of the mono warning letter. “Um, excuse
me.”

Coach pointedly marked his spot in his
magazine article before raising his head. “Yes?”

Amber jabbed the red warning letter at the
motto on Cassie’s shirt. “She’s making fun of the kids with the
kissing disease.”

Coach Ameen looked at Cassie. “Not funny,
Cassie.”

“Sir?”

“Mono’s serious. It’s poor sportsmanship to
mock.”

Cassie crossed her arms over her Irish
t-shirt.

“Go to the nurse's office and change.” Coach
rooted through his desk drawer and held up a hall pass.

Cassie felt everyone’s stares as she walked
up the aisle, clutching her bag to her chest.

Paige made an anarchy symbol with her
fingers. “Don’t let the man get you down.”

Amber went over to the Coach’s desk and
whispered something to him. He shoved a hall pass toward her in
irritation, but didn’t look up again. She beat Cassie out the door.
Kristnaldo squeezed by her next, and followed Amber. He didn’t
bother with a pass and Coach didn’t seem to see him leave or if he
saw, he didn’t care.

* * *

Cassie dug through her locker. No luck. She
hadn’t left a jacket in there. Slamming the door shut, she stopped
by the bathroom. New signs were posted by the sinks demonstrating
the proper way to wash hands. Had they placed signs in the boy’s
restrooms too? If Spencer was anything to go by, the boys probably
needed a time-release lock on their bathroom door. If the boy
didn’t leave his hands under the faucet for at least two seconds,
the exit wouldn’t open.

Leaving the restroom, she spotted a new
professionally-made banner. The words
Got Restraint?
were
surrounded by decorative red stop signs, and someone had mounted a
dispenser of hand-sanitizing liquid underneath.

The dispenser was in danger of being knocked
off the wall by the couple making out beside it. The male half of
the couple shoved what looked like two concert tickets into the
girl’s hand and she lifted her head.

Cassie recognized her. Amber. Amber with her
unmistakable cheer curls. But the guy she was kissing…the guy
wasn’t Ryan. Cassie gasped, staring between Kristnaldo and Amber, a
sick knot twisting in her stomach.

Amber swiveled at the sound and her words
came out sharply, “We're practicing for the play. What are you? A
statue? You just need to leave.”

Cassie wrapped her arms around her waist and
hurried down the corridor. Why would Amber practice kissing with
Kristnaldo when she had Ryan?

Outside the nurse’s office, a line of waiting
students overflowed the door and trailed into the hallway. The
nurse shoved one kid out. “And so does my big toe. You don’t have
mono. Go take your Physics test.” Two other students left the line
at her sharp words.

Trying not to look sick, or like a
delinquent, Cassie filed in behind the last student.

* * *

Time to audition. Cassie sank lower into the
flat padding of her maroon auditorium seat and tugged on the name
card around her neck. The card bore the name of the play’s romantic
heroine:
Madrageen.
All auditioning students wore placards.
The girls wore
Madrageen
and the guys,
Yourgath.

Lizard Larry sat two rows over, flicking his
tongue at his placard. The ink, smeared with wet splotches from his
tongue, displayed the name of the hero.

Cassie curled into her chair and tugged her
over-sized white gym shirt over her knees. Surely her
Kiss
Me
shirt hadn’t been as bad as Larry’s
Guns & Ammo
t-shirt tucked into camouflage pants? No one made him change. From
here, she had a great view of the back of Ryan’s head. Had he
gotten a haircut? He wasn’t wearing a placard, but he held one in
his hands, until Amber took it from him and forced the blue card
over his head. Her hands lingered on his chest, but her eyes moved
to the back row.

Cassie peeked backwards. Kristnaldo sprawled
across a chair in the back, making out with another girl. Ew. She
turned forward to a nicer sight. The back of Ryan’s hair was
definitely shorter. When Amber faced forward again, her gaze caught
Cassie’s. A frown formed. Cassie shifted her gaze and tried to
pretend she’d been looking at the director, Ms. Herrington.

“The play is called
The Dragon's
Nest
,” Ms. Herrington said. “It’s about two lovers whose
wedding plans are interrupted by the threat of a dragon.” The
director spoke in clear tones and punctuated the words
lovers
and
dragon
. She handed a stack of papers to
Brooke, who took one and passed it down. Cassie took one and
completed the ritual. Lines of dialogue lay across the page. Lines
she’d have to say in front of everyone.

“Now I'd like to see my potential heroines.
Ladies, go on stage, and when I call your name please step forward,
and read Madrageen's part.”

Crumpling the paper in her sweaty hand,
Cassie followed the other girls on stage, scooting behind Sierra
and Brooke so she wouldn’t have to go first. Everyone could see her
up here in her horrible outfit. The gym shirt hung to mid-thigh,
and Cassie tugged on the hem, wishing the nurse had other clothing
options. This shirt smelled mildewy, like the launderer had left it
in the wash too long before putting it in the dryer.

The director pointed at Sierra. “Go big or go
home.”

Sierra hunched her shoulder and made grasping
motions with both hands, and read the line in a threatening manner.
“I will love you for eternity and then one second longer.” She made
a special claw-like motion at Mike, and he laughed from his seat in
the audience.

“Amber.” The director indicated she should go
next.

Amber stepped forward, fluffed her dark cheer
curls, and adjusted her cheerleading uniform. Her adjustment raised
the red pleated skirt an inch.

Sierra rolled her eyes. “She doesn't even
have cheer practice today. Why is she wearing that?”

“Shh,” the director said. “Please begin,
Amber.”

Amber clasped her hands to her heart. “I, I
will love you forever eternity, um, and longer.” Amber ended her
over-the-top reading by sliding into the splits. Two suck-ups from
the audience clapped.

“Next,” the director called to Brooke. Her
tone didn’t give any clues to her thoughts on the performances.

Brooke stepped forward and walked directly in
front of Amber, blocking her from the audience. Amber used Brooke's
shirt to pull herself up and Brooke used her script to swat back at
her. Then in a robot-inspired voice, Brooke said, “I, will love
you, for eternity, and then, precisely, one second longer.” She
completed her reading with a foot stomp.

“Cassie Jones, you’re up.”

“Who’s that?” some guy asked from the
audience.

Cassie closed her eyes for a second. Her
mouth felt dry, and she tightened her sweaty hands on the script. A
hole ripped the middle of the paper, tearing one of the words, and
she couldn’t remember what it was.
Improvise
. She stepped
forward and raised her gaze from her sneakers. The rows of seats
seemed infinite from up on stage and she wished she was out there,
watching, instead of up here.

“I will love you for eternity and then one
second longer.” Her wistfulness must have come through because when
Cassie finished, Brooke was grinning and Sierra gave her a huge
thumbs up. Cassie took a big step back, eager to escape the
spotlight, and a gust of wind from a vent on the stage swept up
under her gym shirt, cooling her skin, and causing the cotton
t-shirt to balloon out.

“Oompa-Loompa,” Amber mocked, and hummed the
words repeatedly.

Cassie slapped at her shirt and backed up
further. Paige adjusted her zoom lens and lifted her camera.
Flash.

The director winced. “Thank you, ladies. The
cast list will be posted tomorrow after school.” She stood and
shuffled paperwork. “If you don’t get a part, we’d still like your
help with costumes and the set.”

* * *

Trallwyn High School

Dragon Scoop: Wednesday, February 28

STOP volunteers see Coach Ameen.

No parking in lot C.

Cassie recited the announcement board in her
head to keep from feeling overwhelmed at being Ryan’s lab partner.
That worked until he held out a beaker, forcing her attention onto
him. The blue liquid inside smelled like window cleaner. She had no
clue what to do and felt like a moron, but really, what did
‘forward position your three bottles’ mean? Shifting the three
bottles around, Cassie turned to her old lab partner. “Brooke, what
do I do with them?”

Brooke turned to answer, but Ryan waved her
off. He used his free hand to take a bottle from Cassie. Startled
by his motion and proximity, she jerked back. Two of the bottles
slid to the edge of the table, and one dove, shattering on the
linoleum.

“Get another,” Coach Ameen said without
looking up from his magazine.

Students snickered at Cassie’s walk of shame
to the glassware cabinet.

“Oompa-Klutz,” Amber mocked.

“It’s recyclable,” Paige said.

Brooke and Megan helped Ryan pick up the
broken pieces, and they had the mess cleared before Cassie
returned. Face hot, heart thumping, she placed the new bottle on
the counter near the other two, leaving plenty of space from the
edge.

“In hockey,” Ryan said, “forwards stay
together. So line ‘em up while I pour.”

Cassie moved the empty bottles into position.
Why couldn’t Coach have just said line them up? While the students
poured and the smell of cleaning fluid filled the room, Ryan
explained some of the other terms to her in his deep, quiet voice.
She stuck to his directions, and they were okay lab partners, once
he realized she didn’t know any sports terms.

Coach Ameen lifted a large red stop sign on a
wooden stake. He banged the stick against his desk.
Smack.

Cassie jumped a little, but her glassware
stayed put.

“The office is accepting volunteers for the
student restraint program, also known as ‘STOP: Student Teens Of
Propriety.’ The committee’s supposed to help fight the mono
outbreak.” Coach rolled his eyes. “Who’d like to volunteer?”

Amber and Kristnaldo raised their hands
simultaneously. No one else did. Coach handed each a package of
stop-sign shaped post-its and a badge. Kristnaldo pinned his on.
Morality Monitor
. The badge stood out clearly against his
black fitted v-neck t-shirt. Did he own anything not fitted and
black?

Amber pinned her badge through the edge of
her neckline and under her bra strap. The resulting pull of fabric
displayed additional cleavage. She read her new title aloud,
“Purveyor of Purity.”

Cassie anticipated Sierra’s reaction and
snagged the note mid-air. Sierra had written,
Clearly she’s
wearing a push-up
. She giggled.

Ryan tilted his head toward her. Cassie
cupped her hand around the note. She wrote,
Got to have some
sympathy. My bra’s totally pinching me
. She passed the note to
Brooke.

Coach said, “Thank you Amber, thank you,
Kristnaldo. The other students could learn something from you.”

Sierra laughed, and Cassie snared the note
Brooke tossed before Coach Ameen looked over at the laughter.
Brooke had written,
A comfortable cute bra is like a unicorn. If
you want comfy, you have to stop with the pretty bras, Cass.
Besides, I think you need to go up a cup, you’re spilling out of
that one.

Coach Ameen walked over and stood in front of
Sierra's desk. He brandished the red post-its. “Members of the STOP
team will watch for bad behavior then flag the perp.”

“What happens to them?” Kristnaldo asked.

Amber said, “How will they be punished?”

Cassie wrote back,
I’m not buying the
C-cup. It’s like giving the fish a larger tank. They grow to the
size of their aquarium
. Cassie waited until Coach returned to
his desk before putting the note between her thumb and forefinger
to flick the paper up to Sierra--brace, balance, aim--

Coach turned around, holding two ribbon
pins--a pink one labeled
Typhoid Mary
and a blue one labeled
Germy Gigolo
. Startled into snickering, Cassie’s thump
flopped, and the triangle floated in front of her desk.