Than to Have Never Loved at All

The Kiss

This is a love story. An "I love you," kind of story. 

Just not immediately. 

I pushed my hair away from my face. Matt stared back. He was classic pretty, or so I was told. He was lovable.

"It was always you," Matt said, and I reminded myself that I was supposed to be falling in love with him. I looked at his eyebrows and thought very hard about an ice cream sundaes. God, I loved ice cream sundaes. It seemed to work, Matt leaned in for the kiss.

His lips looked chapped and too red. Was that normal?

I wondered vaguely what he thought of mine, then remembered I was supposed to be madly in love with him. Right. This was a love story, after all.

An "I love you," kind of story.

"Scene!" Mrs. Morrow spared me before our lips met. "Good work Matt and Josie!"

I jerked away from Matt like he was a hot stove and shivered with relief. No uncomfortable fake kissing today. As an afterthought I pulled myself straight and tried to act cool. I wanted people to think that I definitely knew what kissing was. I knew what lips felt like. I liked them. This was normal. I was normal. I definitely didn't have the sexual appeal of a wet cat and the kissing experience of Sleeping Beauty.

Some girls giggled from the makeshift audience seating. We were in the drama room with chairs lined up against one wall and a taped outline for the stage in the middle. The pair who performed their scene before Matt and I had done a full-on fake kiss. I would have done the same with my best friend if she were still here. We would have been all up on each other, her leg dramatically around mine, my hand in her hair, just for the laughs. It would have been funny and totally normal, but Nat left and I got paired with Matt.

I skittered back to my seat, like the stage was about to burn me. It was easier to take criticism while sitting down.

"Thoughts?" Mrs. Morrow asked. We did a lot of scenes in the advanced drama class. It was mostly juniors and seniors with high aspirations, high energy, and a need for attention. I really did like most of the people in the class, even if I avoided getting close to any of them. They dated around in the same way most people tested Subway sandwich combos.

Hope Tindon was the first to give comment on Matt and I's performance.

"That was really cute," she said. Hope had long blond hair and sat up straight while balanced cross legged on her chair. "I really liked the stage directions you chose."

Sure you did.

I zoned out before she started going on about a theory of movement her mother had taught her. I wasn't ignoring her because of Matt or the terrible performance we just gave, I was ignoring her because my brain was just a buzzing box of the repeated phrase want sleep, need the sleep, sleepy.

I slumped in my chair exhausted. Last night had been full of driving to the airport, and crying and saying goodbye to Nat, and driving home and trying not to think about Nat leaving.

My best friend left and I just wanted to curl up on my couch at home and watch The Great British Bake off while scrolling through my phone.

Another student started talking. Matt was nodding thoughtfully. I didn't hear anything after "your motivation seemed confusing."

My MOTIVATION, was to survive the scene unscathed so I could go home and sleep. Except, crap I couldn't sleep because Finn and I had plans. We had made Nat a promise.

My brain buzzed. Mrs. Morrow said something as I stifled a yawn. The end-of-class shuffling began.

"Before we go!" Mrs. Morrow cut off all movement with a clap and a swoop to stand in the middle of our fake stage. My fingers stopped around the strap of my backpack, "Hope has an announcement."

Hope was the only sophomore in the advanced drama class. Finn once said she was genetically engineered for leadership positions and I couldn't argue. She knew how to talk, and take notes, and badger people into working for her. She glided to the front of the room, and took up Mrs. Morrow's place.

"So, the committee has picked a theme for this-year's One-Acts," Hope beamed.

I perked back up to full awareness. I forgot that they were announcing the theme today. I had pushed the One-Acts to the very back of my brain. It was just another terrible reminder of things Nat and I wouldn't be doing together anymore. The One-Acts were our favorite time of year. The Executive Committee for the Drama Club picked a topic and students submitted scripts. At a late night drama-meeting/voting party, students voted on their top three submission and those shows would be performed in the lull between the fall production and the spring musical.

I could give or take the spring and fall performances, but I lived for the One-Acts. Minimal supervision, total control by the students. It was where life was. There were no "family friendly" jr. productions, or watered down Thornton Wilder, just raw untethered theater.

My freshmen year Nat and I's script had narrowly lost out, but we were able to audition for roles in the show. We were very good background shopkeepers. My Sophomore year, our script was rejected again, this time to Reagan and Milo's surrealist drama about a caged ballerina, or something. I was in it and still didn't know what was going on. Nat was crushed and swore that Junior year would be our year.

And then Nat left.

I was pretty sure I wouldn't be writing anything this year, but the thrill of finding out the theme still sent sparks through my system.

"Okay." Hope clasped her hands in front of her, bounced on her heels once and said, "Tis better to have loved and lost-" The enthusiasm I felt a second ago fizzled out like a sparkler in a bucket of water. I felt my heart drop. "-than to have never loved at all."

Hope radiated excitement and some of the girls in the class squeaked happily.

Matt smiled wanly. He would be a shoe-in for a romantic lead with his thick brown curls and straight teeth.

I slumped back into my chair and shut my eyes.

The theme had to be a love story.

An "I love you" kind of story. 

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