METANOIA

KISS

Barry approached the house hesitantly. His eyes searched for some sign of Taylor. He recognized her bike chained to a street sign.

He dug his pinkie deep into his ear, shook it about a bit, but it was clear there was no way around the constant ringing. Even a bullet to the head hadn't worked.

The exterior of the house was brown, and there wasn't anything remarkable about it. There were some children playing in the front yard.

Happy children were the last thing Barry wanted to see right now. He hated their smiling, silly faces. He wanted all of them just simply to disappear; he didn't care how. He averted his eyes, only partially out of guilt, but mostly out of fear they might annoy him enough to unhinge his volatility again.

There was a commotion behind the house, and rather than having to walk through the children playing, he wanted to go around to the back. But he had done enough breaking and entering for one day. He called Taylor.

When he heard her, he asked, "I'm here. Can you come to the front?"

Taylor was slightly surprised. He had never confirmed he was coming.

"Oh, okay, I'll be right there," she said.

She came up the path that led behind the house. He was relieved he didn't have to walk through the children. She was smiling at first, but as she approached, her smile faded and was replaced by hesitation, then fear.

"What happened to your face?" she gasped.

Barry had forgotten about his black eye, cut lip, and missing tooth. He reached up and touched his lip gently. He had to think quickly and just came up with,

"I got jumped last night. Someone tried to rob me on my way home."

She touched his lip gently. It tickled.

"You okay?" she asked.

"You should see the other guy," he mumbled. "I can take care of myself." He was oddly proud. He had snuffed the poor bastard and his entire family, but of course, she had no way of knowing that.

She pressed him, "What happened? Where?"

He looked uncomfortable as she became more meddlesome.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He said flatly.

She didn't press after that. She wasn't the inquisitive sort.

Taylor was gradually becoming a crutch for Barry somewhat. She was now an anchor to replace Melinda. He didn't see he was projecting Melinda's ghost on her like she had projected her passion for her previous fiancé onto him. He was repeating the wrong done to him. An odd sense of revenge lingered in the back of his mind.

She kissed his lips gently. Barry had no way of knowing that was how she greeted all her close friends. It didn't mean much. But Barry had never been with a girl like her before, and he read into it beyond the intention.

As she pulled her head back, he grabbed onto it and pulled it closer to his face. He closed his eyes and imagined it was Melinda. Her tobacco smell and gapped teeth brushing against his tongue suggested otherwise. Barry put much feeling behind each kiss. He couldn't face Melinda, so he was directing his passion for her to this perfect stranger.

Taylor wasn't expecting the kiss, and although she wasn't uncomfortable, it felt a little too dramatic. However, she was on something, as usual, so her mind was too cloudy to process it.

Barry walked out back with her and found himself amidst a bunch of strangers. He hated the place instantly. He hated being there. People were smiling, laughing, and huddled in groups. He felt out of place, and each smile tore a piece out of him.

Barry looked a little scary with his socked eye and cut lip. People hesitated to approach him.

Taylor picked up a six pack she seemed to have brought herself.

Barry asked, "You have anything else?"

She warned him, "This is a home church by the way, so no drugs tonight. I smoked a little before I got here," she smiled.

Barry wanted her. Something about the carnage brought out the most carnal of desires. He put his arm around Taylor, his fingertip brushing under her breast lightly.

Taylor wasn't really into it, just not the right mindset. She brushed his paw away. "Slow down, Tiger," she smiled at him.

Barry was not impressed but didn't push any further.

He was the chosen one, a weapon of mass destruction. He didn't like being denied the satisfaction of his carnal needs, the darkness in him pushing for immediacy.

"I am the chosen one," he repeated to himself.

Taylor heard this and looked back at him in bewilderment.

Barry realized the demons inside him were starting to affect his real life. He pretended he never said it.

"Where did you get the beer from?"

Still looking puzzled, Taylor said, "The party is BYOB, so you need to get some yourself."

"Oh." Barry was surprised she didn't want to share. She seemed a lot colder today than previously.

His comments about being the chosen one, his beat up face, and pushiness had intimidated Taylor, and she wanted to distance herself from him a little.

"There's a store down the road," she muttered. "Get some beer for yourself."

Barry was slightly relieved to have a reason to leave the house.

Taylor started walking toward the patio and a small group of friends.