"Kiss you? Dude, I'd rather – Not do that at this time, but I appreciate your kind offer."

--Sam Puckett


i'M Sick of Prologues – Chap. - i


It happened, just like that. That's really just how simple or complicated it can come out to be. I can't even possibly begin to explain how earth shattering it is, and it is earth shattering. More like pulverizing actually, but it's only that way to me. There's no way I can relate how this whole thing feels. I would like to say that it's earth shattering for her too, but I honestly have no idea. From all apparent appearances that's not the case.

And I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Because to start I have no idea how I feel about everything that led up to it; I'm not even exactly sure how it happened.

My memory of the whole minute or so in question is more or less a blur of confusion and feelings. All sorts of feelings that would probably need a whole team of psychologists just to begin to sort them out.

It started with words, words that didn't matter and rarely do of course, and sitting in front of the computer way too close to each other. Why? I have no idea.

More words, arguing over something I don't even remember. In any case, those words are important because in the mean time they have us staring at each other for at least a solid thirty seconds.

Teenage boy and teenage girl staring at each other while passionately arguing about nonsense at that kind of proximity—yeah, you do the math.

I don't know which one of us fired first. In a nuclear MAD (Mutually Assured Destruction) scenario it doesn't really matter. But in either case I discover that she has criminally soft lips.

Oh, just to clarify if it's unclear, this isn't just her lips. It's mine too, as in, connected to each other.

This is about the time when that football-sized team of psychologists is desperately calling their managers in the hopes of being traded.

There are sweet, warm and squishy Valerie kisses, and then there are Sam Puckett kisses. (Well, okay, kisses being singular since I don't actually know how either kind stack up in plural form.)

I'm just happy I didn't pass out.

Anger, hate, elation, joy. Those kinds of emotions would've been easy. I'm still trying to come up with adjectives to describe what actually hit me.

And in an absurdly cautious sort of way, I would have to say that it was an overall slightly more positive kind of emotional mushroom cloud. But hey, give me a break. It's only natural, I mean I'm a fifteen year old guy for crying out loud. The hormones made me enjoy it.

Okay, enjoy is a relative kind of word. It's like how those circus guys who walk on spikes or hot coals might sometimes enjoy their job.

Sam's always had an alluring kind of dangerous to her. I'll give her that much.

But back to the story, or massive mistake, however you want to put it, things ended pretty quickly and unspectacularly.

I'm guessing it lasted five, maybe ten seconds tops.

Oh, that's not that long, you may dare to think? Let me rephrase that.

I'm guessing that the kiss I shared with Samantha eternally mocks my guts Puckett lasted five, maybe ten seconds tops.

In what happened next I'm probably not the best witness. If the whole pre-kiss to kiss time frame is a blur in my memory, then the proceeding ten or so seconds is an unintelligible smudge.

More words, this time less passionate, maybe even emotionless. Definitely even less important than usual, essentially boiling down to awkward filler.

She says something either directly or indirectly insulting, maybe daring to reference kissing or some related facilities, maybe not. I say something in response, probably even less up to par than usual. Hey, I was still on the verge of passing out at this point, give me a break.

And then she was gone.

I mostly spent my excess nervous energy pacing and muttering incoherently to myself before Carly finally came down from getting ready to go eat.

Where in the bloody T-drive had she been ten minutes ago?

I clearly remember, being one of the few things I do, her asking me what's wrong.

Did she have a word processor ready?

But of course I'm not going to tell my dream girl what happened. So I just say something about Sam not wanting to go out to eat with us anymore.

She asked something to the effect of whether Sam was crazy.

Yes, yes she is.

But at this point the narrative becomes relatively unimportant, except needless to say I was a twittering mess up until … well, I actually probably still am a twittering mess. I mean I've seen Sam be nicer to Gibby's locker with a sledgehammer than she was with my vulnerable teenage hormones. Stupid hormones anyway.

Understand, this is something that was never supposed to happen. Our friendship is unstable enough as it is already.

Back to the narrative, things are pretty tense for me when Monday rolls around. The only problem is Sam didn't bother to roll around at all (which is actually a pretty accurate description of how she approaches Monday mornings). All day. Carly called her cell phone, but I didn't get a chance to talk to her either for the rest of the day.

I was beginning to feel sick about this whole thing. And when I got home I realized I really wasn't kidding around. I emptied my whole lunch's worth of lasagna into the toilet. I spent the next few hours also getting rid of everything I'd eaten in the past two or so weeks into the special vomit dispenser that my mom had tearfully supplied. After those few hours and vowing I'd never ingest anything edible again if God had mercy on me and either let me live or just killed me outright, I felt somewhat better.

That was until the fateful phone call of 9:30 P.M.

I caught snippets of it in the other room, but was still in no way prepared for when my mom came in to break the news. I suppose every nuclear detonation has its fallout.

It seemed Sam had been sick all day as well with suspiciously similar symptoms.

Uh oh.

And since her mom was naturally afraid that the cat might catch it as well, the two oblivious harbingers of doom, aka our moms, decided/unwittingly conspired that it would be best if Sam would come over to our place until she got better.

Goodbye cruel world.



Well, I'm kind of jumping in with this one since I don't have most of it done yet and aren't even sure about where some of it's going. But we're going to see what happens and hope for the best. If things go according to plan I shoudl have a lot more free time in the near future than I have. So I hope you enjoy it.