The Paramount theatre was dark, loud, and hot, the same as every standing room concert I’ve ever been to, and the rowdy red-neck crowd didn’t help to make it feel any less claustrophobic. As Alex Rhett belted out the top country hits, I danced and sang with my best friend Sandy, and at the end of the third song, I looked to my side and she was gone. I was panicking, the crowd was starting to look hazy after my fourth beer, or was it my fifth?
My white tank top was clinging to my skin under my unbuttoned flannel, and my long dark hair was held back from my face with a backwards ball cap. Everyone was close to me and I looked around squinting my eyes looking for Sandy, but I couldn’t see her, and suddenly I felt someone’s hands on my hips. I whipped around to see a big guy, a moose of a guy, standing face to face with me in the close crowd. His face was familiar, but I was too drunk to recognize him from anywhere.
“Your dancing” he yelled into my ear over the crowd
“What about it?” I shouted back
“It’s hot. You’re really hot.” And before I knew it, in the middle of this club I was making out with a complete stranger, standing in a puddle of beer. He was so much taller than me I was on my toes trying to wrap my hands around his neck to try to get a better angle. He held onto my back pulling me closer in the crowd. I felt someone hitting me on the back and I smacked their hand away, and when I felt it again I knew I had to break free from the mysterious stranger who’s lips I could’ve stayed attached to forever.
“What?” I said turning around and it was Sandy, I had forgotten I’d even lost her.
“We have to go, the last train is about to leave and if we miss it, my mom will be pissed.” She said, looking at me then up at my mysterious red neck, raising her eyebrows. Turning back towards him, I said over the music;
“Listen, I gotta go I’m-“ and before I could finish, I realized he was already gone.
The train ride home was nauseating and I threw up into a paper bag Sandy had found on the floor for me. I woke up in her bed, with the worst hangover I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. We got up, dressed as best as we could, and Sandy drove us to the diner in town.
“I think you’re still drunk” she said, as I stared blankly down into my cup of coffee.
“What even happened last night?” I said groaning, placing a hand to my head.
“You danced like a hooker, and then made out with some moose.” She said, rolling her eyes.
“Who was it?”
“You don’t remember?” she said, her eyes growing wide.
“No, I mean, vaguely I guess, I don’t know.”
“Okay, I could be wrong because I only saw him for a second, but I think, I think it was Matt Sullivan.”
“Matt Sullivan?!” I said, nearly spitting my coffee back into her face
“I said I could be wrong, but remember you said you thought you saw him on the train to Huntington?” my head ache was growing by the minute.
Matt Sullivan was someone I’d known since I was able to walk, talk and be annoying the way little kids always are. He didn’t live next door to me, but he was there a hell of a lot of time, I lived next door to his Aunt. Throughout my childhood, he and his cousin, Monica, tortured me. I was the subject of every joke up until 10th grade when I came into myself, puberty had done me good and I was thankful. I ditched my coke bottle glasses for contacts, I got on a damn treadmill, and I cut my straggly waist length hair to my shoulders. Boy’s noticed me, and I was no longer the class joke. I kept to myself though, just going through the motions. I was 16 in my junior year of high school, and I had never even had my first kiss… until last night.
Matt was one of the most popular guys in our school. He towered over almost everyone at 6’4” and had gorgeous blue eyes you could swear were made of water from a CaribbeanIsland. He had blonde peach fuzz hair, and was a lifeguard at the beach in the summer time. He was one of the first kids in our grade to drive, and did so in style with a vintage red, Ford pick up truck. He was the object of every girl’s affections, and up until a few months ago he dated the “All American Prom Queen” Courtney Louis. But now, I guess he was on the market, not that I was really looking, my grudge against Matt was still there from our childhood rumbles.
“Faith?” Sandy said waving her hand in front of my face, “You still in there?” I snapped out of my trance.
“Yeah, I just gotta go home.”
I quietly came through the house and ran straight to my room, it was Sunday and school was looming in the distance, I slept off my hangover until the next morning, when I woke up back to my old goody two shoes self, and got ready for the monster of a week ahead.
YOU ARE READING
This Kiss
Teen Fiction“Okay, I could be wrong because I only saw him for a second, but I think, I think it was Matt Sullivan.” The music was loud and the floor of the club was crowded with people, at a concert that would soon become the talk of the year. Straight A stude...
