Karen Booth
The First Kiss and the Second Take
by Karen Booth
You’re cute and everything, but I need my space.
Heather stared at the two-week-old atrocity on her phone. She should’ve deleted it, definitely should’ve stopped compulsively looking at it every day, but she was trying to comfort herself with the knowledge that she’d dodged a bullet. No decent guy breaks up with a girl with a text. And what in the hell did cute have to do with anything? That part really grated on her nerves, even more than the chicken-shit mode of delivery.
The woman who’d checked her in for the video shoot gathered a stack of index cards from her desk. “I’ll bring everyone a number in a few moments and then we’ll call you in.”
Heather stuffed her phone into her purse and collected herself. When she’d skeptically answered the ad, it seemed odd that someone would pay her money to kiss a stranger in front of a camera. She wouldn’t have looked into it at all if she didn’t need the fifty bucks to help pay for books this semester. Nursing school was way more expensive than she’d bargained on.
The recently departed boyfriend had even given his stamp of approval for the on-camera stranger-kiss. Now she had to wonder if he’d been planning to dump her all along. Regardless, she’d been single for two weeks and her body was ready to let loose on one of these guys like she’d just spent the summer at a camp for wayward girls. Hopefully her brain would let her do it.
She scanned the room. The offerings were surprisingly easy on the eye, not a bad one among the dozen or so who were there. Pretty boy with long lashes and pouty lips. Nice. Geeky dude with thick hair and chocolatey brown eyes. Beyond nice. Boy-next-door with the jeans that were apparently constructed around his perfect ass. I’d kiss him, too.
And then there was Rock guy. He was tall and lanky, definitely her preferred body type, but he was leaning against the wall and stand-offish as if he didn’t want to be there. She knew guys like him. They never liked her. Ever. Especially not when she liked them.
She had a weakness for long hair, but Rock guy’s was ridiculously long and pulled back in a messy bun. Not the most manly hairstyle. The black t-shirt and beat-up jean jacket he wore were passable. So were the black Chucks. She reminded herself that this wasn’t Whole Foods for Single Guys. She didn’t get to squeeze the tomatoes to find the ripest one. She would get what she got and there was nothing to do about that.
Index card woman doled out numbers. Heather was given “3”. A din of mumbling rose as everyone milled about to find their match. She hadn’t scoped out the girls, but now she found herself knee-deep in the bloodsport of worrying how she measured up. Was there even one guy here who hoped he’d get her? Her stomach wobbled at the thought.
She caught sight of Pretty boy’s card, a “2”. Oh well. Boy-next-door was already chatting up his stunning, giggly match. Damn. Geeky guy had a “7”. Figures. Her heart hammered the way it had when teams were picked in PE class. Stop it. Her match was here somewhere, she just had to find him.
She turned and nearly planted her nose in the center of Rock guy’s chest.
He flapped his “3” at her. “Hiya.”
“Oh. Hi.” Holy shit. His voice. Deep. Dark. Irish?
“We need everyone in the studio now, please,” Index card woman announced.
Heather was still staring up at male number “3”, struggling for a good reason to close her gaping mouth. He sported several days of scraggly dark-brown facial hair, a stark contrast to his impeccable pink lips. His eyebrows were thick and a little crazy, his hazel eyes deep and almost sad, cheekbones high and flushed. She’d always been a good girl and made do with safe guys. Gazing into his eyes, the words “that was really fucking stupid of me” sprang to mind.
Heather and her guy were pulled into the mass of strangers filing through the studio doors. She was keenly aware of him behind her, so close that she wondered if that was his heartbeat thundering in her chest.
A woman with dark-framed glasses scrutinized them all as they entered the room, squeezing her lower lip and seeming deep in thought. “You.” She pointed at Heather’s guy. “We’ll start with you.” Heather had assumed they’d go in numerical order, but apparently that wasn’t the case.
Her guy leaned down, his mouth hovering above Heather’s ear. “That’s us, darling.” Again, that voice—thick and sultry and making her want to climb inside his jean jacket. Naked. He took her hand as if he was claiming his birthright. Possessive men perturbed her more independent sensibilities, but her body couldn’t stem the white-hot rush of electricity his fingers produced when he clamped them around hers.
Heather followed him to their marks in front of the camera. They were immediately separated by a bossy man with a clipboard. Dutifully distanced by a scant twelve inches, the futility was laughable. Clipboard man had pulled apart a magnet and a steel plate. No way she and her guy weren’t erasing all space between them as soon as they had their chance.
Her guy spoke to her without a word. At least it felt that way, his penetrating gaze asking questions, leaving her exposed. It was surprisingly freeing, not scary.
The woman with the glasses gave instructions, something about being natural and listening for a beep that would warn them when time was up. It was mostly a lot of noise. Heather couldn’t have cared less, but she definitely took notice when the woman uttered the word she’d been longing to hear.
“Action.”
They drifted into each other, stopping toe-to-toe. He cracked the faintest smile, but immediately corrected himself and refocused his intensity on her. He was serious. In charge. He reached back and pulled the tie from his hair, never breaking eye contact. Thick waves of chestnut brown hair collapsed onto his shoulders. If she’d been able to speak, she would’ve said, “Fuck, yes.”
The room went impossibly still. Breathing seemed disruptive, so she held her breath, feeding off the raw energy that radiated from him. Everything in his eyes said one thing: “You. Are. Mine.”
He dropped his head, resting his forehead against hers, his hair creating a sliver of privacy amidst their public display. Blood rushed to the surface of her skin. Every part of her wanted to be closer to him. The tips of their noses brushed. Her heart galloped. His firm hands cupped her shoulders, trailed up the sides of her neck. His thumbs caressed her cheeks while his fingers stroked the baby-fine hair at her nape. Every atom in her body buzzed and hummed as if a man had never touched her before, never looked at her twice. Her eyelids fluttered, weak under his spell.
“You’re trembling,” he said, with a hint of sweet surprise in his brogue.
“I can’t help it.” His voice made her want to do stupid, reckless things. She arched her back, flattened her stomach against his, wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him into her. She needed to know as much of his body as possible.
He kissed her temple, her cheek, and then he finally planted the gentlest tease of a kiss. She raised her chin, needing more. His lips were even softer than she’d imagined, skating over hers, but they didn’t have time for hesitancy and toying, however much she loved it. Their moment was now and it was fleeting and if she didn’t squeeze everything from it, it would be gone forever. She had way too many regrets in her life. This would not be one of them.
She threaded her hands under the jean jacket and slipped them beneath his t-shirt, committing his lower back to memory, wishing she could see his bare skin. Their lips smashed together, tongues found each other, winding and tangling. A groan rumbled from the depths of his throat and he dug his hands into her hair, making a splendid mess. Somebody in the room exclaimed, “Yeah.” Heather and her guy laughed, but only for an instant. They were readily seduced back into the natural, extraordinary rhythm of their kiss.
The distant, dreaded beep told them they were to do the unthinkable and stop. Although lips were no longer touching, Heather and her guy leaned into each other, the conversation between their bodies continuing. Chests heaved, breaths came short, eyes slowly opened to greet each other again.
“I need a second take,” he declared, pressing his lips to her forehead.
“Sorry. One try. You two did great. Next,” Clipboard man said.
Heather’s guy shot him a dirty look. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out the other #FirstKiss stories from this week! You can find the complete list at Audra North’s website.
Real-time view of my writing process in action. Glamorous, isn’t it?
My fab critique partner Karen Stivali tagged me for a writer Blog Hop, in which I am asked to share some info on my writing process. My answers are below! Don’t forget to take a minute and stop by Karen’s blog to read her answers.
What are you working on? Sheesh, that’s a secret! Seriously though, I try not to talk too much about my books before they are ready to go out in the world. These things need to marinate in my head and all aspects of a book are subject to change until final edits are complete. I reserve this right as author! I can say that the book is about Adam, a gifted artist. I like to refer to him as a modern-day Renaissance man, because he has a brilliant mind and is scary smart. We all know what that leads to…mental torment and anguish. Adam is so jaded about love that his art has suffered and he’s in denial about what’s wrong, so he’s become a hermit in the mountains of North Carolina. Only Melanie, a go-getter art broker with a penchant for brooding men, can lure him out of his man cave, as well as his own head, and teach him that there is such a thing as true love in the world. I suggest you bring a box of tissues.
How does your work differ from others in the genre? I think it all comes down to voice. It’s every author’s secret weapon because let’s face it–there are only so many ways to tell a story. Otherwise, I like to write outside-the-mold characters and I break rules whenever possible. I did the opposite in school. I always followed the rules and I regretted it.
Why do you write what you write? I write what’s in my head. As to why I choose to put it on paper or virtual paper for the whole world to read, some mysteries are best left unexplained. I only know that it’s a compulsion. I do know that I am drawn to love stories. I love to watch the dance and feel like I’m a part of it. It says so much about what it’s like to be human. It’s the one thing we all want, whether we’re willing to admit it or not. We all want to fall in love.
How does your writing process work? I have to laugh a little at this question. The word “process” makes it sound so exacting and scientific when it is anything but. I am not a super disciplined person and I have the attention span of an eleven-year-old. This means that my process has been different with every book. With my first book, I just sat down and wrote it. I wasted tons of time making mistakes, but it was a journey of discovery. I had no clue what I was doing. I just figured it out. My second book was like combing your hair one strand at a time. By that time, I knew most of what I shouldn’t have been doing the first time and it psyched me out. It was difficult, even though the end result was still good. The big thing for me has been recognizing my strengths, like the fact that I am super productive in the morning. Getting up at 5 am is routine now and I can accomplish ridiculous amounts of writing in the 90 minutes before the kids get up for school. That is when I sit down and GO. I don’t edit, I don’t plot. I just write. The rest of the day is for the other stuff–outlining, research, nitpicking, thesaurus wrangling.
Today’s RNRHS guest is Jamie White, Author, Blogger, and major connoisseur of music and pop culture, which is part of what made us friends on Twitter. Jamie has some cool music stuff to talk about, but I was most fascinated by her mention of Kids, Inc.. That’s a first for the blog, and after 74 posts, many of which are 80s-centric, I found it hard to believe this was the first time Kids came up. (For those who don’t know, the world might never have known the talents of Jennifer Love Hewitt and Fergie without it.) The show started when I was a sophomore in high school, so I’d sadly aged out of the target audience, but I have younger siblings and they LOVED it. I looked up the theme song on You Tube this morning (see below, for your amusement) and I’d forgotten just how much that show was quintessential 80s. Sure, it’s the Hollywood version of the 80s since it’s so contrived, but that’s part of the point I’m about to make. A lot of awesome things from the 80s were manufactured (or seemed that way)–Wham! (the Wake Me Up Before You Go Go video being Exhibit A), jelly shoes, Mork and Mindy, Gremlins. Need I go on? I think the important thing to remember, a point that Rob Sheffield brought up in his memoir Talking to Girls About Duran Duran, is that everything that was good in the 80s…music, fashion, film…was made for kids. That’s what made it such a kick-ass time.
Jamie White
Hollywood Hills High School, Currently: Author, Blogger, Proofreader
Band and/or song that reminds you the most of high school: The group I associate with most with high school is Ace of Base. They had some fun songs and my friends and I loved them. All I have to do is here “Don’t Turn Around” or “The Sign” and I am transported back to the school courtyard where we all used to hang out and have lunch.
Favorite piece of music memorabilia (poster, t-shirt, etc.) in high school: This is going to sound geeky, but I was a huge Kids, Incorporated fan in the 80s, so when Jennifer Love Hewitt made it big with Party of Five and put out an album, I went to see a performance she did at a local mall, where I got the CD autographed.
Kids Incorporated Theme Song: 1984
Band that you hated that everyone else at school seemed to love: Nirvana. I still to this day can’t fathom why “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was so popular. ::ducks to avoid flying objects::
Best show or concert you saw in high school: Bon Jovi, without a doubt. I fell in love with the band as a kid in the ‘80s and never grew out of it. I still rock out to “Keep the Faith” and “Crossroads”. 🙂
Jamie White is a multi-published author of Young and New Adult Paranormal Fiction. Her latest release, Stains on the Soul is out now. You can find out more about Jamie at jamielwhite.com.
I’m thrilled to have the awesomesauce Elisa Lorello take the reins of Rock ‘n’ Roll High School today, not only because she’s a friend, but because I relish the chance to host any mega music fan on the blog. Elisa’s life has been filled with music, but like many of us, the high school years were especially rich with music memories. You can read the finest of the details in her memoir Friends of Mine: 30 Years in the Life of a Duran Duran Fan. Elisa and I share a rampant love of said band (duh!) and writing, and saw a timely convergence of the two when we took part in the Author Panel at the Durandemonium Convention last fall. The best part of that weekend in Chicago, hanging out with our fellow Duran fans, was that Elisa and I could pass off the fun as “work”.
Elisa Lorello
Walt Whitman High School, South Huntington, NY (Long Island), Class of ’88
Currently: Author of commercial women’s fiction, and teacher of writing
Band and/or song that reminds you the most of high school: For the band, I’d obviously have to go with Duran Duran, given that I worshipped them throughout high school, but the song would be Simple Minds’ “Don’t You Forget About Me,” since I equally worshipped The Breakfast Club during high school (who didn’t?).
Favorite piece of music memorabilia (poster, t-shirt, etc.) in high school: So hard to pick one, especially since I have a lot of Duran Duran memorabilia. I’ve always had a fondness for my Duran Duran pin collection. I still have the denim jacket (with the sleeves cut off) that I attached them to. I think I have close to 40 total (not nearly enough!). And I think my Seven & the Ragged Tiger tour jersey is now considered memorabilia.
Band that you hated that everyone else at school seemed to love: I couldn’t stand Rush.
Best show or concert you saw in high school: Have to go with Duran Duran in 1984, given that it was my first concert ever. I also saw Howard Jones, Hall & Oates, the Power Station, Robert Palmer, and the Alarm, to name a few. Musically speaking, Robert Palmer put on an excellent show. He was a class act.
I also have to give a special mention to my older brothers, who played at my Sweet Sixteen birthday party. No DJ for me! I’ve been around live music all my life so it was a given that they’d perform. They were fabulous, as always.
Best high school make-out song: No clue. (I think I may have blocked that one out of my memory, hahaha). “Careless Whisper,” maybe?
Elisa Lorello is a multi-published author of commercial women’s fiction, including the bestselling Faking It, and her memoir, Friends of Mine: 30 Years in the Life of a Duran Duran Fan. Her latest women’s fiction release is She Has Your Eyes. You can learn more about Elisa at elisalorello.com.
Andrew Golub, aka Durandy, joins us today for a re-launch of sorts for Rock ‘n’ Roll High School. I suppose you could say that school is back in session or at least I’m getting back to class after spending a little too much time hanging around in the parking lot talking to my friends (and writing! I’m always writing!). Andrew is THE Duran Duran fan-archivist, a devoted follower of the band for over three decades. He curates an assortment of rare artifacts and paper ephemera that numbers in the thousands, including carefully restored posters and prints from every chapter of Duran Duran’s history. Selections from Andrew’s archive have been showcased in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and Museum, on A&E’s Biography, in two film documentaries, and in two public exhibitions. Andrew released a gorgeous hardcover book last month titled Beautiful Colors, examining Duran Duran’s career as it has never been seen before — through the posters. From 1978 up to the present day, the band’s evolution is chronicled with rare and vintage promotional posters from the largest Duran Duran archive in the world; tours, tribulations, and triumphs are charted as each album is released, viewed through an array of stunning art and photography. There’s even a forward by Nick Rhodes. How amazing is that? So get to it, peeps, and order Andy’s book before they are gone and you’re left feeling foolish. After that, you can get to this…
Andrew Golub, Duran Duran archivist extraordinaire, Franklin High, Seattle, WA, Class of ’90
Band and/or song that reminds you the most of high school: Ahhhh…. I realize I’m not the most objective opinion on song choices, but Duran Duran’s “The Reflex” has to be on the top of my list. That hit represents a time when the band was taking girls’ hearts by storm and the music charts were full of colorful acts setting out to make a splash with videos and catchy songs. “Freeze Frame” by J. Geils Band and Van Halen’s “Jump” also quickly transport me back to high school hallways, toting my Trapper Keeper with Nick Rhodes peering out from the front cover’s plastic sleeve.
Favorite piece of music memorabilia (poster, t-shirt, etc.) in high school: By high school, I was firmly set on using newspaper route income to purchase foldout Duran Duran posters from my classmates, so any day that saw me come home with an armload of pin-ups or magazine clippings was memorable. I recall walking into drugstores or supermarkets after school and never quite making it past the magazine racks; a glazed look would come over my face and I’d drop to my knees, methodically perusing every new issue of Tiger Beat, SuperTeen, and BOP. The hard part was figuring out which mag to buy with my limited money, since each publication had mercilessly limited their Duran coverage to just a couple pages. The perils of youth in the ‘80s!
Band that you hated that everyone else at school seemed to love: Probably Culture Club. I have always been a visual person, and to me, Boy George and Nick Rhodes represented the two extremes of makeup application: wasteful and tasteful. Granted, Duran Duran embraced decadence in other ways, but with their visual presentation, the band deftly illustrated how sometimes less can be more. Except when it comes to collecting posters.
Best show or concert you saw in high school: Seeing Duran Duran for the first time in Vancouver BC, when they joined David Bowie on his 1987 Glass Spider tour. The show was sheer brilliance. I stayed after Duran left the stage, just long enough to see Bowie make his grand entrance, but then I retreated to the transport bus so my memorabilia could be better protected. The archival tendencies were already taking over.
Best high school make-out song: Mmmmm… probably “Save A Prayer.” Or Foreigner’s “I Want To Know What Love Is”. Neither ever really worked for me, but I recommend both.
Andrew Golub is author of the book Beautiful Colors, telling the history of Duran Duran through his meticulously curated collection of posters. You can learn more about Andrew’s collection and his book at durandy.com.
