The No Kiss Blog Fest!

Today is the day in which we celebrate all of the kisses that should have been. The kisses that never were. The kisses that miss.

It's the No Kiss Blog Fest, brainchild of the fabulous and slightly unhinged, Frankie. Tons of writers are participating, so be sure to check out all of the almost kisses today.

Our non-kissing scene is from She's Leaving Home. Poor Sarah, she has a nasty case of acid reflux and is smoking her very first cigarette desperately trying to impress Australian hottie, Luke.

***

“So you've been here for three months?” I looked over at Luke.

“Graduation present,” he said, taking a long sip of his beer. “All of my brothers came for a year. The last hurrah before your real life starts, yeah?”

I stared at him for a second watching as disco lights danced across the angles of his profile. His nose was crooked in a tough-guy-who’s-been-in-some-fights kind of way.

“Yeah.” Wow, copious amounts of alcohol apparently made me very profound.

“You?” he asked, turning to look at me for the first time.

When I met his eyes, they held real interest. In me. Acid burned the back of my throat, but thankfully no burp followed. I stared down at my hands trying to think of something interesting to say; something to keep his flicker of interest burning.

“Just needed a break from everything,” I slurred. “I was supposed to come with my sister,” I began, reaching in front of him toward the ashtray to put out my cigarette, “but …” I saw it all happening in slow motion. My arm hit the sweaty neck of his beer. The beer tipped, my cigarette dropped and suddenly Luke was on his feet.

“Oh shit!” he yelled, throwing his hands up. The beer soaked his pants and somehow the cigarette managed to burn a hole in the knee. If I was lucky, the beer would have at least put out the cigarette, saving me the humiliation of catching him on fire, but when I saw the small charred mark on his knee, I remembered my luck had run out a long time ago.

“I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry,” I began mopping up the beer on the bar, which caused even more to spill off the bar, splashing his shoes. “Oh God, you’re all wet.” I grabbed a fresh napkin and began vigorously wiping at him. He shielded himself from me, but even that didn’t make me stop.