That boy is very serious about his singing.
A little too serious.
But between songs I noticed that his attention turned to a certain girl in blue taffeta. (Well, okay, all the girls were in blue taffeta, but I'm talking about Adrienne here.) He was a riser behind her and a section over, with only two singers between them. (In other words, he was a mile away.) But because the risers were arranged in a shallow U shape, he could see her beautiful up do (and part of her profile) with a simple twist of his bow-tied neck.
And twist he did!
This made me inexplicably happy. I was dying to pull Adrienne aside and tell her. Dying to give her all the nitty-gritty details of the focus of his attentions. Dying to watch her jump up and down in giddy bliss.
Maybe none of this was news to her (she had, after all, gotten at least one ride from the guy). But maybe it was!
Suddenly it was like there was nothing weird between us. We were back in the attic, the best of friends, and I just wanted to deliver the news!
When the last song before intermission ("Yodeling the Day Away") was finally over, I knew I couldn't wait through the second half of the program.
I had to go backstage.
Now!
100
Witness
MY ATTEMPT AT GOING BACKSTAGE was thwarted by an eighty-year-old security guard wielding a bad attitude.
"I said no, miss," he snarled after my third attempt at talking my way past him. "You do understand the definition of No, don't you?"
I frowned at him.
Smartass.
So I took my flowers and went outside. I knew my way around! I knew about the back doors! I didn't need some old guy blocking me from delivering some very exciting news!
The night air felt great, and I inhaled deeply as I walked toward the back of the building. I could smell the pine trees that lined the property. It was a sweet and comforting fragrance. Adrienne wouldn't stay mad at me forever! She couldn't!
I turned the corner full throttle, but then immediately stopped short and hugged the wall. Paxton had Adrienne by the hand and was pulling her outside through the back door that I'd been heading toward. She was laughing and he was smiling, and the moment the door closed, he swept her around to face him.
A security light glowed like a moon high above them. It washed them in a warm softness, wrapping them in a moment that was all theirs. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, my heart began to race.
He was going to kiss her!
I both wanted to disappear and move closer. So (very sensibly) I stayed put, pressing harder against the wall.
And then, like the scene from the book come to life, I watched Adrienne search Paxton's eyes; I watched him drink in her beauty. As he pulled her toward him, I saw her melt in his arms.
When he kissed her, I could see that the world fell away around them, I could feel their happiness radiate out through the night.
My knees gave way and I slid down the wall.
Now that was a crimson kiss.
101
In the Powder Room
LONG AFTER PAXTON AND ADRIENNE had gone back inside, I sat outside in the dark, stunned. Here I'd been the one chasing down a crimson kiss, and somehow Adrienne had found one.
How had this happened?
Finally I got up, dusted off, and slipped through the back door. The second portion of the program was well under way, so I waited in the ladies' powder room, which is like a chorus line dressing room. In addition to an alcove of pearlized toilets, there are lots of mirrors, lots of vanity lights, benches, and long racks to hang clothes.
While I waited for the second act to be over, I spent time scrutinizing myself in the mirror.
Paxton had turned out to be a crimson kisser.
But not with me.
So was it me? Were all those unsatisfying kisses my fault?
Was it my approach?
My expectations?
I'd been looking for a crimson kiss, but I hadn't invested emotionally in any of the guys. I'd just expected the fantasy and the moment and the desire for a crimson kiss to make it happen.
And what had I ended up with?
A bunch of junky kisses.
When the show was over and Adrienne came into the powder room, the only thing she seemed able to do was stare at me.
So I grabbed her wrist, yanked her over to a bench, pressed the flowers on her, and whispered, "I saw Paxton kiss you!"
Her eyes came to life, her face beamed with an angelic glow, and her wall of silence crumbled. "You did?" she asked, grabbing my forearms.
I nodded. "It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen." I leaned in. "That was a real-life crimson kiss!"
"It was, wasn't it?" she gasped. "Oh, my God, Evangeline, I thought I was going to faint!"
I smiled at her. "I could tell."
"Where were you?"
I shrugged. "Coming around the building so I could sneak in the back door and see you. I wanted to tell you how he kept looking at you during the first act."
"He did?"
I laughed, because it was such a cute thing for her to wonder. "Come on! Like you're surprised? He kissed you!"
She giggled, then looked at me and suddenly burst into tears. "Oh, Evangeline!"
My eyes spilled over as we fell into a hug. "I have missed you so much!"
"I've missed you so much, too!" she said.
I pulled away and sniffed. "Oh, right!"
"I'm serious! I really have!"
I nodded. "Me too."
She grabbed me by the arms again. "Can you come over? Spend the night? We've got so much catching up to do!"
I smiled and nodded. "Sounds perfect."
102
Investments
IT'S BEEN A MONTH since I witnessed Adrienne and Paxton's crimson kiss. It was not their one and only, either. Adrienne reports there have been many more, and I see no end in sight for those lovebirds.
I'm actually very happy for her.
Okay, a little jealous, but happy.
I, on the other hand, have gone into kissing remission. Not that I haven't been tempted, especially since I've had some pretty good offers (most notably from gorgeous Lars Wilson, who, like Stu, claims to be in possession of a crimson kiss).
That may be, but for now I'm resisting the urge to find out.
Instead, I've been doing something a short tier down from crimson kissing.
Shopping!
It started because Adrienne is going to the prom with Paxton (who I finally got to apologize to), so she and I spent a full week scouring stores for a perfect fairy-tale dress. But while we were looking for her, we also stumbled across some cool things for me. No dresses--just simple, casual clothes somewhere between my mom's wardrobe and my old frumpy T's. Things that feel like me. My favorite is a white T-shirt (with cap sleeves and a scoop neck, of course). There are no words or brand logos, just six vertical rifles lined up beside one purple guitar. It's a think-about-it shirt, and I like that.
I also (in a completely different way) like the dress Adrienne chose. It's a full-length deep red Empire-waist gown with pretty faux-jewel detailing on the straps and bodice. She looks gorgeous in it, and when I get done with her hair and makeup, Paxton will fall to one knee and swear his eternal love.
I might be jealous about that, too, but I'm not. I feel like I'm just now figuring myself out, and I need to give that a little time before including somebody else.
So instead of thinking about kissing or boyfriends, I'm investing.
In my guitar playing, in my schoolwork, in my friendship with Adrienne, and in my family.
Mom, Dad, and I have been to four counseling sessions now, and Dad and I have also had some good guitar sessions. He's taking the father-daughter thing slow and easy, which has helped. And music has always been something we could talk about.
I've also been investing (to my own surprise) in Robbie Marshall.
After completing my community service hours by tuto
ring Robbie in Room 212, we moved the math-help sessions to Starbucks. We don't just hang out, either. We do homework, and he's serious about it. It's a standing date twice a week, one I really look forward to. Robbie is actually very funny, and his math grade is now up to a B-, which makes me proud. I just don't know if I'm brave enough to ever kiss him again. (Although, it has crossed my mind that if the math tutoring has gone this well, then maybe he'd be a quick-study kisser, too.)
The best thing about Robbie is that when I turned him down for prom, he just smiled and said, "So maybe we'll go next year," and then didn't ask anyone else out.
So maybe he's investing in me, too.
But besides getting to know Robbie, I've also been getting to know Brody better. Each of them is aware of the other, so it's not like I'm going behind anyone's back. And now that Mom's given notice at the condo and we're slowly moving things back to the house, I use the computer to e-mail Brody a lot. We mostly discuss books and music and politics. It seems a little silly to e-mail when we're right down the street from each other, but I was practically part of his family for years, and this is how I'm finally getting to know what he thinks (and that boy thinks deep).
In a few months, Brody'll be going to live in Connecticut, but I think we'll still e-mail each other like we do now. I hope we will anyway.
So even though there were shocking and embarrassing (and slobbery) moments, I learned a lot from my spree as a serial kisser. I understand myself better, my parents better...I understand that forgiveness may be hard, but it's a liberating first step forward...and I understand that there's real healing power in the delivery of an apology.
And in a Fender Strat plugged into a Marshall amp!
I also finally see that a crimson kiss isn't something you can chase, because it's more than just the passionate meeting of mouths.
It's a confession.
It's the truth your lips whisper to someone you love.
Also by Wendelin Van Draanen
Sammy Keyes and the Hotel Thief
Sammy Keyes and the Skeleton Man
Sammy Keyes and the Sisters of Mercy
Sammy Keyes and the Runaway Elf
Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Moustache Mary
Sammy Keyes and the Hollywood Mummy
Sammy Keyes and the Search for Snake Eyes
Sammy Keyes and the Art of Deception
Sammy Keyes and the Psycho Kitty Queen
Sammy Keyes and the Dead Giveaway
Sammy Keyes and the Wild Things
How I Survived Being a Girl
Flipped
Swear to Howdy
Runaway
Shredderman: Secret Identity
Shredderman: Attack of the Tagger
Shredderman: Meet the Gecko
Shredderman: Enemy Spy
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright (c) 2008 by Wendelin Van Draanen Parsons
"Somebody to Love" by Darby R. Slick (c) 1967, renewed 1994 by Irving Music, Inc. Copperpenny Music. All rights administered by Irving Music, Inc. / BMI. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children's Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Van Draanen, Wendelin.
Confessions of a serial kisser / Wendelin Van Draanen. -- 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: After reading her mother's secret collection of romance novels during her parents' difficult separation, seventeen-year-old Evangeline Logan begins a quest for the perfect kiss.
[1. Kissing--Fiction. 2. Interpersonal relations--Fiction. 3. Best friends--Fiction. 4. Friendship--Fiction. 5. High schools--Fiction. 6. Schools--Fiction. 7. Family problems--Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.D779Con 2008
[Fic]--dc22
2007049027
Random House Children's Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
eISBN: 978-0-375-84992-3
v3.0
Wendelin Van Draanen, Confessions of a Serial Kisser
(Series: # )
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