-20-

There are a few things in this world that can rob a man of his pride. Mine was taken by Stacey Ray Cass one day while I was at Martha's house.

I mean, I suppose it wasn't that bad, but it was embarrassing nevertheless.

I'd been avoiding Stacey all morning. What the heck was I supposed to say? I told her I would indeed consider loving a girl like her, and then I just left.

See, I had no experience in any of this falling in love stuff. People like my brother would tell me to just kiss her already, but it's so much harder than one might think. Especially if you're like me, as I was very experienced at beating around the bush and avoiding people.

Yeah, I could be a brave superhero and be all romantic and kiss her. But, it's not like I was in some cliché teen fiction novel. In those, everyone ends up happy and the kiss was expected. What if Stacey gets disturbed? I knew I'd be disturbed if she just kissed me without permission.

I was stressing about it all while sitting on the swing set in the evening, having no idea that later that night I'd have a few less of my current problems and a few new ones. I wasn't swinging, just sitting. The adults were sitting on the carport, actually quite distant from me. Everyone else was probably playing video games in the house. Stacey came up and sat on the only other swing on the thing.

Neither of us spoke for a while. I wanted to leave, but then I'd look like a jerk. I tried to find something to say.

Both of us started to speak at the same time. I was saying "hey" as she was saying "look".

We both chuckled a little and I motioned for her to speak first.

"Look," she said, "I don't know which part of what I said last night made you uncomfortable. Probably all of it. But I don't want it to affect the way you think of me. Wow, that sounded stupid. Of course anything I say could affect the way you think of me. But what I'm saying is that I don't want it to affect...us.... At least not like this."

At least not like this? Did she want us to be affected some other way?

"So, what do ya say?" Stacey asked. "We're still friends, right?"

I laughed a little. "Yeah."

"Good." She smiled.

I nodded, still unsure of what to say.

"You haven't said anything," she pointed out. "You're making me nervous."

"Sorry."

"Phew. You're okay. Talk to me or something."

"I'm assuming you probably don't want to talk about last night-"

"Which part?"

"Um...any of it?"

"Well, the part about Brody is something I prefer to avoid, as well as anything involving him. Any of the other stuff, sure." She smirked at me. "Like how you dropped me when we were slow dancing, or when you chickened out in the moment and went to bed."

Shoot. "Uh..."

She giggled. "You'll talk about none of it?"

"I wasn't exactly comfortable with any of last nights events."

"Why not?"

"Well, what do I do when I have no tragic love sort to share except for the time I hit my date with a bowling ball? What do I do when the worse injury I ever had was when..."

I trailed off, thinking of when Anthony got a little crazy trying to slice a block of cheese. (Long story short, I ended up getting a few stitches in my arm.) Then I remembered, I'd had worse injuries.

"When what?"

"Anthony cut the cheese." I refused to meet her eyes.

Stacey burst out laughing. "What?!"

My face reddened. "No! No, he had a knife, and he was wondering 'why in the name of Uncle Sam won't the cheese cut' and he stabbed the cheese and then he couldn't pull it out and I just happened to be standing by him when he-"

It was useless. Stacey didn't care much about the background story; she was more worried about my choice of words.

"I was wondering..." Stacey couldn't speak more than a few words between her fits of laughter. "Did he...knock you off of your feet...or did you get...lung damage from...breathing the air...." She doubled over. The swing shook each time she laughed.

"Forget it." I rolled my eyes and looked at the sky while I waited for her to finish laughing.

The sky was a little cloudy, but not dark. It was the middle of summer, so the sun didn't set until later at night.

The smell of barbecue filled the air and I realized that Don was starting dinner. I basically wasted the whole day. Three left.

"We've only got a few days left," I pointed out.

"Yeah," Stacey agreed with a twinge of sadness in her voice. "You'll stay in touch, won't you?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

I finally looked up from the grass to look at Stacey. She was gazing at me intently, as if she was indecisive and struggling inside. "Of course."

She smiled. "This has certainly been a long reunion."

"It was long enough," I said.

"Long enough for what?"

I shrugged.

"I can't say I'm ready to go back. I didn't have a very interesting life back in Illinois. And then there's always Brody to worry about."

I gripped the chains of the swing. "Don't let him bother you, Stacey. He's not worth your time. If he bothers you, just have me...FaceTime him or something. I'll yell at his ugly face."

Stacey chuckled softly. "I'm afraid I can't say his face is ugly, as much as his personality is."

"His face will always be unattractive to me, you know."

"I know," she said, which surprised me a bit. "I haven't seen too many things bring up apparent emotion in you, but talking about him... I could see your rage, Logan."

I blushed and smiled a smile that probably looked really sheepish. "Uh, yeah..."

Stacey reached out and pinched my cheek. "I still think dimples are adorable."

I had no idea how to respond to that. It wasn't a random thing to say, considering I had dimples. "What's so cute about dimples?" I asked. "They're actually a muscle deformity caused by variations in the zygomatic major. See? Not cute."

Stacey rolled her eyes and laughed. "It's a flipping cute muscle deformity, alright?"

"Humph."

"What about me, Logan?" She looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes. "You have a cute muscle deformity. What do you see in me?"

I paused. Did she seriously want me to answer this?

I thought long and hard, because if I started and stuttered, then she'd think I couldn't think of anything.

When I spoke, I spoke slowly. "Well, you kinda have freckles.... Freckles are cute...."

"Those are sun freckles, Logan. They're not cute."

"Well, I don't think dimples are cute, so we can both shut up, okay?"

Stacey laughed. "I probably sounded like I was just searching for praise or something. I'm sorry, I just..." She faltered.

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

"Stacey, just tell me."

"It's nothing. I need something to say, because you won't talk."

"I don't know what to say."

"Clearly," she huffed.

I probably should have been talking about my feelings, but it wasn't easy to bring up. It was easier to not say anything than to talk about that subject.

"I bet I can swing higher than you," Stacey said, and pushed off of the ground to begin swinging.

"Not even," I backfired, and began swinging as well.

The quiet in the yard was soon interrupted by the sound of squealing metal coming from the swings. Stacey and I both pulled and pushed, desperately trying to get higher than each other.

"I'm going higher!" she yelled.

"No!" I retorted. "I totally am!"

"It's quite obvious that I am!"

"I could also say that!"

I was totally going higher than her. Whatever she said, whatever she may still think, she wasn't even close to me.

I struggled to go higher but it seemed as if the laws of gravity didn't want me to. Stacey struggled as well, but she couldn't make it as high as me.

"Dinner!" someone called from the house.

I looked at the carport. Everyone had gone inside to get food.

"We've gotta go," I said to Stacey. "But you've made me get stuck on a swing high in the air!"

"Jump!"

"What?! No! I'll break a bone or something!"

"Are you a chicken?"

"Yes! And for numerous things, at that!"

"Do it, man! Do it or I'll do something really big!"

"Like what!"

"You're gonna find out if you don't jump!"

"I won't!"

"On three! One..."

I groaned and tried to slow the swing as much as I could before I jumped.

"Two..."

Here goes nothing, I thought. Just in case I don't make it out alive, maybe I should tell her-

"Three!"

We both flew through the air from our swings. I hit the grass hard, and a second later, Stacey hit me hard.

"Ow!" I yelled. "You turd!"

"Thanks for getting in my way, Loganberry!" Stacey scolded. "All that crap about people breaking each other's falls is a load of bull! That didn't feel good at all!"

"Keep in mind that this was your idea," I muttered.

"Well, I wasn't supposed to land on you."

"Well, it would be nice if you'd get off of me."

"Oh, right."

Stacey rolled off of me and sat up, but she didn't stand. I flipped over so I was on my back and waited for her to say something.

She just looked at me. She stared into my eyes, so I stared back into hers. Normally, in this kind of situation, I would have looked away. But at that moment, it seemed impossible. Her face was like a black hole and I was getting sucked in.

Alright, that sounded really weird.

I cracked open my mouth to suggest that we go inside and get food, but Stacey had other ideas.

As fast as lightning, she bent over and pressed her lips to mine. I was shocked, and frankly, scared out of my mind. An unfamiliar sensation filled me-a warm feeling that came with chills, but I wasn't cold. I was as nervous as someone sitting on the edge of a cliff, yet as content as a child on Christmas.

It was amazing.

Stacey pulled away as quickly as she came. Although, since she spent quite a bit of time staring into my eyes, it wasn't that short.

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water, unable to find words.

Finally, I managed to say, "You're an idiot."

Stacey laughed a little before getting up and running to the house.

I followed shortly after, hoping with all of my might, mind, and strength that the door was closed and that no one witnessed what had just happened.

As I stepped through the doorway, someone punched me in the arm. Hard. I turned to see Anthony sitting on a stool right next to the door.

"I saw that," he muttered, smirking at me.

I rubbed my rapidly bruising arm and turned away from him, my face burning furiously.

»»»»»«««««

I sat on the hammock later that evening as the sun began to set. Stacy had completely disappeared after she went inside.

I was so embarrassed. It was Stacey who stole my man pride. I let her kiss me, when it's clearly the dude's job to do that first. Why do girls have to be so darn tough? I knew plenty of guys who'd argue with me on that, but I was a shrimp compared to most of the world's women.

I caught Stacey as she tried to sneak away to her tent.

"Stacey!" I called out, although I probably sounded somewhat like a hoarse kitten.

Her head snapped in my direction and she made her way over.

"What the heck?" I finally said once she was standing in front of me.

"Ugh. I worried you'd be like this."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because you've never kissed anyone before, and I figured it would be funny. ...Consider it a prank...or something."

"You stole my first kiss," I said.

Stacey blushed. "Actually...that was my first kiss, too."

I was in shocked silence for a moment before I said, "What?"

"I said-"

"What? You were making fun of me for never... And you never even..."

Stacey nodded slowly and then exhaled. "I was freaking out inside, okay? If you didn't notice, I was acting a little weird.... And it didn't exactly help that you called me an idiot."

"Uh, sorry. It was the only thing that came to mind."

"Clearly."

I stood up and faced Stacey, making up my mind on what to do next.

"So...," I said. "That was your first kiss."

"And I'm an idiot for doing so, apparently." She sounded light, but a little discomfort was apparent in her voice.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close. My heartbeat quickened immensely, and I wouldn't be surprised if she could feel it.

"Know what?" I whispered. "Now I'm an idiot."

I bent down and kissed her myself. The chills came back the second I felt her lips on mine. She reached up and hooked her arms around my neck, kissing me back.

Maybe it was an idiotic move for both of us. Neither of us was thinking of what we'd do later, when we had to go our separate ways. But I didn't regret it, at least not for a while.

Apparently Anthony didn't think I could do it. He'd thought it was hilarious that Stacey had to make the first move, and he never thought I'd get the guts to do it myself. I only wish I'd recorded his action when I told him that I kissed her that evening, in the back of the yard where no one could see.

She whispered something to me afterwards.

"It wasn't a prank."

Well, take that.

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