Raisin Rodriguez & the Big-Time Smooch (12 page)

“Hey, Jacques,” I heard Fippy saying. “What are you doing here?”

“My favorite French bookstore eez 'ere. I am looking for a book about Paree in ze year 1967—ze summer of loave.”

“Right on,” Lynn said.

“Groovy,” Fippy said.

“Peace,” I said. Then I held up my two fingers and made a V. I felt really cool. Almost as cool as Lynn sounds when she talks about The Man.

Fippy took me off to the side as Lynn continued a conversation with Jacques. “You could lose your reputation right here, right now, if you want to. All you'd have to do is make out with Jacques. The news would spread quickly and poof—your reputation would be gone.”

It seemed so simple. Just one kiss and my days as a priss would be over. It was a win-win situation. If the reputation was holding CJ back, he could stop worrying about it. And even if it wasn't, I could get in some much-needed practice for the big kiss with CJ. Whenever that would be.

“Okay. I'll do it,” I said.

Fippy took Jacques aside and whispered something in his ear, and before I knew it, he was taking out the ChapStick and wiping it across his mouth. This is it, I thought. There's no turning back now. I'm about to become a woman of the world. A force to be reckoned with.

I was all ready. I puckered up. The air was thick with tension as Fippy gave Jacques a quick rub on the shoulder for good luck, and Lynn handed me a Listerine breath strip. I was finally getting the chance to prove myself. My reputation was about to be restored. My life was about to change forever.

But then, just as Jacques moved in for the kill, I realized something kind of disturbing. Between my most recent growth spurt and what seems to be Jacques' unfortunate shrinking spurt, there's a good six inches between us. Not the most ideal height difference for kissing partners. Especially when one of those partners has never kissed a boy before. If I didn't do something quick, Jacques would be kissing my armpit. My clean-shaven but non-mouth armpit. And what would that have done for my reputation? Nothing more than show the world that when it comes to kissing, I have no idea what I'm doing.

So, at the last minute, I had no choice but to duck, leaving Jacques stuck kissing the lamppost just behind me.

My first instinct was to feel bad. I didn't want to embarrass the guy. But then I watched him go at it with the slab of steel and he seemed to be enjoying himself.

My next instinct was to take a look around me and examine the expressions on Lynn and Fippy's faces. And to note that the expressions did not convey respect.

Even so, I didn't learn from my mistake.

“Raisin, ma petite chou, do you want to try it again?” Jacques asked, wiping his mouth when he was all done. “Zere is nothing to be afraid of.”

Did he have to use the word afraid? It certainly didn't do much to further the illusion I was trying to create of myself as an experienced woman of the world.

Still, he was giving me a golden opportunity, and I knew I had to take it.

The only problem was, I couldn't. From where I stood, the nearly white peach fuzz that grew out of the top of his head made him look like a baby chick. If I'd wanted my first kiss to be with a baby chick, I could have gone along with Lola on her class trip to the petting zoo.

“I'm not afraid. I've just changed my mind,” I said, immediately wishing I could unsay it. When I'd practiced that line in my head the moment before, it had made me sound mysterious. As if something unexpected had come up at the last minute. Something that required a little black dress and a string of pearls or two. But judging from the knowing glances being exchanged all around me yet again, I wasn't mystifying anyone. I was giving them exactly what they expected: hours of laughter and merriment to be enjoyed behind my back.

And possibly in front of it too.

Now I'll never convince anyone I'm not a priss. . . .

 
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7:50 PM, EST

He doesn't?

 
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7:57 PM, EST

So I've been wasting my time worrying about nothing?

 
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Then what words would you use?

 
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8:23 PM, EST

Kitties, please! Stop fighting. There's been a terrible misunderstanding. A two-pronged misunderstanding, come to think of it.

The first prong is about your friendship. You two are still best friends. Claudia, Pia is happy for you. Pia, Claudia does still love you. You must not let a boy get between you. Boys aren't that important. I mean, come on. They're basically just like girls, only not as good because they're short and sweaty. And they'd rather waste their time exploding video car games than spend their time wisely, crimping their hair to simulate that retro eighties look or melting down their old lipsticks to create a faaabulously original new shade of lip gloss. In the scheme of things, boys just don't matter that much. Except of course in my case because I live for the drama.

The second prong is about this blog. This blog is about me, Raisin Rodriguez. Not you two, Pia and Claudia.

Now kiss and make up.

Who's going first?

 
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8:29 PM, EST

Pia, remember when Soledad Sanchez called you a bed wetter in third grade and Claudia got her back by showing Mrs. Chasen the snot ball collection she had under her desk?

And Claudia, remember when you were kind of grumpy and snarky every day since kindergarten and Pia continued to love you as if you were her own?

Now kiss and make up. Before you get me angry with you.

 
8:31 PM, EST

I'm waiting.

 
8:35 PM, EST

Still waiting . . .

Still waiting . . .

 
8:41 PM, EST

Okay. Where's the kissing? I'm not seeing any puckered-up mouths. I'm not hearing any smooching noises.

 
8:52 PM, EST

Fine. Have it your way. I'm done meddling. It's really none of my business whether or not you guys are speaking to each other. As long as you're speaking to me.

 
The big news is that I've figured out how to get all that practice in. You know that guy I've told you about? The one from earth science who mumbles to himself and likes to chew on lightbulbs? I'm going to ask him if he wants to help me practice making out. It's perfect! I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a girlfriend, and I'll bet he's free tomorrow, because the Dungeons & Dragons club doesn't meet on Wednesdays.

Yay! I feel so much better now.

 
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9:11 PM, EST

HA! I GOT YOU TWO! See? You really do love each other. As soon as something came up, you were on the phone figuring out what to do about it.

 
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Logged in at 9:16 PM, EST

 
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9:26 PM, EST

I'm so glad you guys made up. The three of us need to stick together. And you two need to take care of each other now that I'm gone. So no more fighting!

Now, eyes back on me, please.

Thank you.

Where were we?

Something about practicing to rock CJ's world.

Not sure who to use for practice.

I could use Countess, but there's the small issue of doggy breath. I could use Lola, but Eisenhower might flip. And anyone else would be totally inappropriate, don't you think?

 
9:28 PM, EST

I've got it! Raisin Rodriguez, Brilliant Thinker, strikes again! It's so simple, I can hardly believe no one else has thought of it. Allow me to present the most important piece of machinery to hit stores since the straightening iron.

Drumroll, please . . .

Want to learn how to kiss but don't have anyone to practice on?

Have we got the solution for you!

It's not your boyfriend. It's not karaoke. . . .

It's Boyfriendaoke!

Just hook it up to your TV. Looks and sounds just like the real thing! For individuals, small groups and large. Fun for the whole family!

Isn't it great? I can practice all my kissing moves on my Boyfriendaoke. Morning, noon, or evening. Anytime is Boyfriendaoke time!

PS—Anyone know where I can find a Boyfriendaoke lounge?

 
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9:47 PM, EST

PiaBallerina! You devil, you. Who'd have guessed you'd know so much about the art of making out?

Things couldn't be going better between me and the pillow. Same goes for me and Lola's Pooh bear. There's only one downside: I'm afraid they'll find out about each other. Which could get ugly. And unnecessarily hurtful.

Then again, it could be good practice for both of them. For when CJ moves into the picture.

We all need to move on at some point.