Lessons On Love

12: Self Checkout Or The Express Lane

I know it's surprising, but it's true, I'm still alive. I've just been very busy and I'm sorry for making you guys wait, but that's why I made this chapter extra long and gave everybody a cameo so that you guys can all be happy whether you're on Team Marshall or Team Tyler or... you know... Team Todd.

 

 

Chapter 12: Self Checkout Or The Express Lane?

            The topic came up during the middle of lunch when Todd and I were sitting outside in our usual spot by the parking lot, under the big oak tree that the school gardener always seems to forget about. The weather was unusually warm for May, and though the sounds of the students playing sports on the nearby field filled the atmosphere with youthful vitality, I was sitting in the shadows, violently choking on a piece of carrot.

            After a few forceful hacks, I did manage to spit out the orange chunk, but the expression of confusion refused to leave my face as I turned back to Todd. “I don’t know if it’s because you’re an actress,” he murmured quietly, his scarlet cheeks and orange hair somewhat reminding me of the vegetable I just spat out, “but sometimes, you’re very dramatic.”

            I blinked at him, very absentmindedly, before reaching for my bottle of water and taking a sip to clear the burning sensation left in my throat. “You just surprised me,” I said. “That’s all.”

            “Really, I meant to tell you earlier, but I haven’t been able to find the correct timing, and then you’ve been caught up in that whole whirlwind of other stuff.” 

            I nodded. “So then, when is it?”

            “Monday I think. Or at least for me it’s Monday.” His face deepened in redness before he sunk it inside his palms. “What am I going to do Camila?!” He wailed. “It’s going to be my first... my first... ki- ki- ki- kiss!”

            I shrugged and almost told him it was no big deal, but then I remembered why I choked in the first place, because this was Todd we were talking about. Apparently, my class wasn’t the only one that was planning little events to fundraise money for their graduation trip. While Brooklynn had planned car washes, bake sales, a play as well as gathering numerous sponsors from outside of school to fund our group, Todd’s class had settled on doing a kissing booth.

            “What am I going to do?” He continued. “What if I end up being a really bad kisser?!”

            Frankly, I didn’t think that was going to be the biggest issue. The bigger problem at hand seemed to be who would be willing to pay 2 bucks to kiss Todd, but of course, he was a sensitive soul when it came to girl/boy intimacy, and I couldn’t possibly tell him that. “What if you’re one of the lucky ones nobody wants to kiss?” I asked.

            I couldn’t see his face since he was still hiding it, but I heard him sob.

            Well whatever. I never said I was good at everything.

            “Why don’t you just not do it if it bothers you so much?”

            He sniffled before raising his face to look at me, and I could clearly see all the reasons why even before he stuttered out his excuse. “But, you know, the whole class is doing it so if I... you know. It wouldn’t be fair.”

            “Then you shouldn’t worry about it,” I reassured. “And if it really bothers you, there’re probably how-to articles online you can look up.”