Cloudy with a Chance of Boys Part 16

Scott: Oh, I can believe it. I've been dreading this night for a long time.

Me: What? (Touches him on arm.) Stop pacing and look at me for one second. I've never seen you this nervous. What's wrong?

Scott: Forget it. It's nothing. It's just . . . hard to talk about.

Me: Hey, it's me. We've been through dress rehearsals tons of times. Are you worried about your lines? Afraid you'll screw up the sword fighting? I know you're going to do great. We've practiced it, like, a hundred times.

Scott: I wish. Nope. It's not the sword fighting. That I have down.

Me: What, then? If you tell me, maybe I can help.

Scott: Um, no, you're, like, the last person who can help.

Me: (Frustrated.) Fine.

Scott: Hey, I didn't mean it like that. It's just . . . well . . . Jayden.

Me: Oh, no. What about Jayden?

Scott: (Shakes head.) This is so embarra.s.sing!

Me: What?

Scott: I have to kiss her!

Me: (Pauses, takes deep breath.) So? You guys have practiced this, right?

Scott: No! That's just it! Every time we rehea.r.s.ed the scene, something happened, you know, to interrupt us. Like, she got fogged! And Mr. Cannon never got back to it.

Me: But tonight's the real thing. You have to go through the whole play just like it'll be on opening night.

Scott: So, I was wondering . . . do you think you could maybe, like, be standing by with the fog machine again?

Me: Um, I think once was enough on the fogging thing.

Scott: Too bad. I gotta think of something!

Me: Scott. You're an actor. You're Romeo. Romeo has to kiss Juliet. Or there wouldn't be a play. The show must go on, and all that junk. (Wait! What am I saying?) Scott: Do you think Romeo could kiss her on the hand?

Me: Sorry. No. C'mon, she's not that bad.

Scott: Oh, yeah? If you don't mind swapping spit with a Flutternutter.

Me: Fluffernutter. Marshmallow stuff? Like you put on a sandwich when you're a kid? Never mind. (Holds out pretend sword.) En garde!

Scott: (Laughs.) C'mon, be serious? You gotta help me.

Me: How?

Scott: Like, give me some stage directions or some ideas on how to get through this.

Me: I'm not going to help you kiss Jayden Pffeffer!

Scott: You mean Juliet.

Me: Fine.

Scott: Okay, so what should I do? If I want it to look real and everything, I mean.

Me: Okay, first, don't think about Jayden. (Think about me!) Scott: Done.

Me: Just think about Juliet, and how Romeo would feel, and try to be in the moment, ya know?

Scott: Okay . . .

Me: Then, um, well, let's see. If it was me, and I was hoping for the perfect kiss, you know? I'd say, pretend kind of like you're slow dancing . . .

Scott: Okay, you lost me there. You know I don't dance.

Me: Yes, you do. I've seen you. (Takes left arm and lifts it.) Just put your left hand on her shoulder, like this, and then, maybe touch the back of her hair with your other hand. (Puts hand to back of head.) Then pull her close to you . . .

Scott: Like this? (Pulls me close, closes eyes, and . . . we kiss!) Me: (Whispers.) Perfect. (Takes in breath. Opens eyes.) Minus the mustache, of course. (Straightens mustache.) Scott: (Cracks up laughing.) Me: Was it . . . awful? The mustache, I mean.

Scott: Kind of like kissing Santa Claus.

Me: (Playfully punches him in the arm.) Thanks a lot, mister! Some Romeo. Sure, kiss me now, but kill me later.

Scott: No, seriously, thanks. It's good practice. (Lowers voice.) In case I'm ever in a play where I have to give mouth-to-mouth to a yeti.

Me: (Cracks up.) Thanks a lot. Now, go out there and knock 'em dead. But first, one more little piece of advice.

Scott: Yeah, great. What is it?

Me: Whatever you do, when you're about to kiss Jayden . . .

Scott: Yeah?

Me: Just picture a yeti!

Scott: (Cracks up.) A green-eyed yeti, you mean.

Me: Now go. Good luck! I mean, break a leg. (Pushes Romeo through curtain onto stage. House lights dim.) Me: (Steps into the wings backstage. Hands go to my lips - not to straighten my mustache this time. Sound disappears. Thinks. Remembers. To self: For just a moment, one perfect moment, I got to be Juliet.) Upstairs in my room, I glued the final cloud pictures on my poster board, a series of almost-purple clouds from tonight's sunset. I was mopping up extra glue when Alex and Joey came back from the Raven. Alex, still half-dressed as Tybalt in boots, tights, and a long, puffy-sleeved shirt, floated across the room. She leaned against the bookcase as if she needed it to help hold her up.

"How was dress rehearsal?" I asked.

Joey circled around the rug, waving her arms. "You should have seen it, Stevie. Romeo climbed up Dad's ladder without falling for once, but his arm got caught on Jayden's belt, and the whole thing broke. Hundreds of pearls went flying and Jayden was, like, 'Whoa,' and she slipped and fell right as Romeo was about to kiss Juliet."

"Don't look at me," Alex said with a glint in her eye.

"It was so funny, I died laughing. Except Mr. Cannon didn't think so. Dad asked me if I did it on purpose but I didn't. Cross my heart!"

"Joey, you couldn't have done better if you'd planned it," Alex said.

"Oh, man, I can't believe I missed it. Sorry about all your pearls, though, Duck. It took you, like, forever to string them."

"So? It was fun. Then Mercutio dropped his sword two times when he was sword-fighting Alex, and one time, his tights fell down!"

"Did the trap door work?" I asked.

"Yep," Joey said. "Dad was super psyched."

"I wish I could have come over. But I had to finish this cloud poster or it would ruin my whole weekend. I'll come to opening night, Alex, I promise."

"Alex made a super good Tybalt," said Joey. "Even though I still think she'd be the best Juliet."

"Alex? Earth to Alex," I said.

"Who, me? Oh, the play. I lived. I died. All in one night. It was . . . perfect."

I raised an eyebrow at Joey. Alex sure was in one of her good moods.

"Um, I have to go get out of this stage makeup," said Alex. "But . . . let's all get into our pj's and meet back here in five for a Sisters Club meeting."

Joey squealed. "Pajama jam!" I grabbed my pj's from under my pillow.

When Alex came back, all three of us sat cross-legged on the thick daisy-shaped rug, leaning against the beds. "Wait," I said dramatically, closing my eyes and holding my fingers to my temples. "Something is different here tonight. I think I'm getting a vibe." I held out one hand, pretending to touch the air around Joey's head. "Joey got rich tonight!"

"Wow! She's right!" said Joey. "Dad gave me twenty-five whole dollars for helping out so much making props and working on the sets." She glanced over at Alex. "How'd you do that, Stevie?" she said in a fake voice.

"And . . ." This time I patted the air around Alex. "Hold on, hold on. I'm getting something. Alex. It's your aura. It's different."

"Is not."

"Is too!"

"Stevie, my aura is just fine, thank you very much."

"Go ahead, make fun, but thou dost protest too much." I felt the top of her head, picked up her hand and held it. "I'm seeing . . . a dark place. Behind a door. No, a curtain. I see . . . two boys. No, wait. One is a girl dressed as a boy. She has a mustache."

Alex pulled her hand away. Instinctively, she fingered her upper lip.

"And . . . here comes the good part . . . they kiss!"

"Uh! Stevie! How did you know that?" She grabbed one of Joey's stuffed animals and started clobbering me with it.

"Scott Towel really kissed you? Stevie must have ESP."

"Yeah. Extra spying powers," said Alex, looking around. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"Okay, okay. I give." I grinned, holding up the baby monitor.

"You sneak!" said Alex. "I forgot all about that thing."

"I wanted to finish my cloud project, so I asked Joey to turn it on for me."

"You knew?" Alex said to Joey. "You little spy." She turned on Joey and launched a major tickle attack.

"So, Alex. Tell us about the Big Kiss. The amazing Scott Towel Smoocheroo."

"My lips are sealed." Alex mimed zipping her lips.

"Sealed with a kiss!" said Joey, and we all burst into fits of hysterics. "Just think, Alex," said Joey, "someday you could be Mrs. Paper Towel."

"Jo-ey!" Alex clobbered her this time.

"Wherefore art thou, Mr. Towel. Parting is such sweet sorrow," I teased.

"Fine. Go ahead. Make fun all you want, but at least I finally got my first kiss. It's so humiliating that my little sister beat me to it by two whole weeks."

"You know, if you think about it, that wasn't really Stevie's first kiss anyway," Joey pointed out.

"What do you mean it wasn't my first kiss?" I asked.

"You already had your first kiss. By Scott Towel. That time, in the play, when you filled in for Alex in Beauty and the Beast."

"Way to make me feel better, Joey," said Alex.

"I got my first kiss, too," said Joey.

"Huh? What?" Alex and I said at the same time, gaping at Joey.

"You? You're only eight!" said Alex.

"Nine."

"Who kissed you?" I asked.

"Scott Towel. On the ear. Remember that time he came for dinner and I knocked his fork into the fondue pot and he tried to hide under the table?"

"I forgot about that!" I said. "You called him Frog Lips. And you tried to wipe off the boy cooties for, like, a week."

"Perfect. So everyone on the planet got kissed by Frog Lips before I did."

Alex leaned her head back against the bed, clutching the drama-masks necklace she always wore. I wondered if she was still thinking about the kiss. "I guess we'll just have to change the Sisters Club to the Kissers Club now."

I expected Joey to yell "Gross" and go on about boy cooties and ask us why couldn't it just stay the way it was. But she didn't.