The Boy Who Fell (COMPLETE)

At the Kissing Booth

Team spirit is a funny thing. Your team mates pump you up. You feel like you can do anything, because --- team, right?  But when you're finally there, you remember that this isn't a ball game and you're all alone when you're standing in front of the girl you like, looking like a total dweeb as you interrupt her reading.

FML.

"How much?" I asked. 

She scowled at me. I wouldn't blame her. Her book's probably more interesting than anything I have to say. 

"It's a hundred bucks. But you'll have to wait. Trish took a break. She'll be back in fifteen minutes." I don't want to kiss Trisha, I wanted to tell her. I want to kiss you.

Of course, what I thought and what I said were two different things. "I don't have much time. You'll do," I said, slapping money on the kissing booth counter. Smooth, Hidalgo. You really know how to get the girls. NOT.

She was clearly affronted. "Excuse me? What part of 'Trish is on a break,' don't you understand? And what do you mean 'I'll do?' What makes you think I'll be willing to kiss you?!"

Samantha had a point. I wouldn't kiss myself, the way I acted. But I had to try. "It says Kissing Booth right?" I reasoned. "Doesn't it usually work that way? Customers pay and whoever's manning the booth -- in this case you -- dishes out the kisses." I leaned back and crossed my arms, preparing for her wrath.

Samantha stared at me for the longest time, like she was trying to decide whether she should slap me or slap me. 

Fueled by a bravado I didn't feel, and a bad case of the nerves, I ended up yammering away. I don't even remember what I told her. Or what she said. But I do remember her frown going from bad to worse. One minute, we were talking about our childhood, the next, she was glaring at me. "What did you expect me to do? You started ignoring me!"

Then it hit me. Maybe it's not too late to say sorry after all. "I know that it's a couple of years too late, but I really am sorry. I didn't handle it well then, but if you'll give me a chance, perhaps I can still make it up to you."

It seemed like it wasn't a big deal to her, but to me, it felt like a weight finally lifted off my shoulders. I didn't realize how much my guilt was holding me back. But after that, I felt like I could finally move on. Maybe even move forward.

"Come on, it's no big deal. It's just a kiss. What, you can't do it? After all these years, you still chicken, Sammy?" I heard myself say. I even heard myself clucking. I would've facepalmed at making a fool of myself, but it worked.

Hell yeah, it worked.

You know how when you're anticipating something for the longest time, when it actually happens, it just doesn't live up to the hype and you're so thoroughly disappointed for days after?

Kissing Samantha Coronel was the exact opposite.

"Until what time are you staying here?" I heard myself ask when we finally broke apart. At least I hope that's what I said. It could've been, "Is there a lime in that graying beer?" Truth be told, I was too out of it to function normally. 

All I wanted to do was to keep kissing Sam. 

I tried to pay attention, honest, but my eyes kept straying to her lips and my hands kept wanting to pull her back to me. 

""Yes. It would be nice to go out with you," she said. I grinned at her when I heard that, and she returned it with one of her own. I missed seeing that beautiful smile directed at me. 

At that moment, I knew that I'll be willing to do everything I can to make sure she keeps smiling at me, because there's nowhere I'd rather be than on the receiving end of her smile.

Except maybe the receiving end of her kiss.