Splitsville.com Page 3

  “So what will I be doing?”

  “Over there.” She points in the directions of a hundred or so pink, red and white balloons all floating above a booth.

  Finally! Those balloons have to mark the adoption process area. I feel like I’ve been promoted.

  “Great.” I smile knowing I’m going to get to place sweet animals with their rightful owners. For once I’ll be bringing people together with a loved one instead of tearing them apart like I do at Splitsville.com.

  “Good.” Erin sighs with relief. “I thought you might freak out.”

  “Freak out?” It’s not like I’m afraid of animals, plus I can tell people if I don’t think their choice is a good match for them or their environment. It’s in my real job description. “It’s for a good cause,” I reassure her.

  “You’re right.” She leads me to the booth. “It is a good cause. Have fun.”

  I stop dead in my tracks. I shake my head and close my eyes. Open them. Squint them. Rub them to make sure I’m reading the words above my booth correctly. “Kissing Booth? Kissing Booth!” I scream and try to grab Erin, but she’s already too far away. Now I understand her reaction.

  “You said it’s for a good cause.”

  “No!” I yell back, “I’m not doing it.” I can’t believe she wants me to be the kisser in the kissing booth.

  “There’s lip gloss and Chap-Stick inside,” she yells back. Her evil grin tells me I’m stuck. “You’ll do great! Besides you don’t have a boyfriend who’ll be jealous.”

  “Only peck kisses. Nothing with saliva!” I touch my lips thinking about all the nasty diseases out there.

  Plus it’s nice of her to remind me that I’m lonely and single. Besides my little problem with auras and headaches, my job has made me a little cynical. It’s not like Erin’s new boyfriend will care if she mans the kissing booth. I’ve never met him, but from what she says, he sounds like a creep. It’s a mystery how she doesn’t see it. Every time we all go out for drinks, he never shows up. He always has some kind of excuse. Or he’s standing her up. Plus his name is Kent. What kind of name is Kent? “He’s like Ken, you know, from Ken and Barbie,” she told me after she first met him.

  I just didn’t get it. Ken isn’t even her type. And Erin’s Kent is certainly no Clark Kent. He doesn’t sound at all like Superman.

  I glare at her, wanting to run and tackle her, but unfortunately there’s a line of about twenty guys warming up their lips, a cloud of red aura’s surrounding them.

  I look over my soon-to-be kissing partners and take note of the first hungry beast. The AC/DC shirt he’s wearing isn’t throwing me off, it’s the ripped up jeans-and I don’t mean the cool ripped up jeans look,- and studded belt that’s not doing it for me.

  Totally grossing me out, he licks his lips like I’m some piece of red meat. He does look like one of those predatory types; his eagerness leads me to believe he isn’t very good at the hunt.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I mutter as I take my place under the “KISS ME FOR $5.00” sign. I make a tight pucker for the meat eater to come attack his prey.

  He moves in, locks lips with me, and it seems to go on forever. Finally it’s over and the predator backs away and stares at me while licking his lips again.

  Nasty! I take a tissue from the box and wipe away what I’ve dubbed The Hard Kiss. I’m no kissing expert, but I’m a break up expert. When you’re hired to break people hearts, they tell you all sorts of things about their sex lives, including their kissing patterns.

  A list I’ve come up with is the Art of Kissing. There are definitely nine different types of kisses I’ve compiled.

  “The Romantic Kiss” is the best one of all, in my opinion. This is also a fun one that takes a while to develop in the relationship. It’s where he bends you back, with one hand placed on the small of your back and the other resting against your face. Hold onto your hat! This kiss means “I am going to take care of you and love you always.”

  “The Peck,” also called the Quickie. It’s the beginning of all kisses. The “why waste my time,” in my opinion. Generally the first in a relationship where the lips are fully closed and sometimes puckered. It’s where you are feeling out the waters to see if there is a spark and if you might be able to move onto bigger and better (longer) kisses.

  “The Pehhhck.” The one that generally comes after the first version of The Peck. It lingers a little longer with the closed mouth. Your man might say, “mmm” during this kiss or your toes may tingle.

  “The Hard Kiss” is the “I want you and I want you now” kiss. Usually hard in the beginning to state his desire or “I’m going to teach you.” Depending on what your comfort level with him is, you may stop at this point and be grossed out, or keep going, blending into a different kissing type.

  The Rapid Fire with playful puckers one after the other is “the Machine Gun.” These are acceptable in public for all the public display of affection out there. Trust me, no one wants to see you swallowing your man’s face in public.

  “The Nibble” is when you get to take a little bite on the lip letting your man know you are in a playful mood. Don’t draw blood, because there is nothing romantic about blood—unless you’re a vampire.

  When you are so mad at your man that you can’t decide whether you want to kiss him or you don’t want to kiss him and it usually leads to great make up sex is what I’ve dubbed “the I love you, no wait, I hate you.” This can be a very stratifying experience.

  Meat eater is definitely a Hard Kiss. I don’t know what he thinks he’s teaching me by his nastiness, but I find he’s totally not my type. Still, he paid his money and it’s all for the dogs, right?

  “Don’t waste your money, man,” the meat eater says to the next guy in line.

  His words sting a little. I try to get a better attitude, and look at my next victim. He’s pretty cute and I decide I can chalk this up to research and really test out my kissing list first hand. It’ll be great if I can say to a dumpee, “He’s dumping you because your kisses are slobbery. I know. I’ve researched it.”

  Yum! I smile, thinking my next victim will taste as rich and dreamy like Dove chocolate. The closer he gets, the tastier he looks. His gazes lingers for a moment too long, making me look away. I can’t stare for fear of drowning in his deep dark eyes or seeing an aura that can ruin it for me.

  “What exactly do I get for my money?” The tall, handsome man with perfect cheekbones puts his hand on mine, the five dollar bill attached to his palm.

  I jerk my hand at the lightning bolt that zips through my body and his aura jumps out completely surrounding him.

  His mouth flinches up in the corners to a full smile, like he’s well aware of the emotion he’s giving me.

  “Duh,” I sputter, doing anything to get my mind out of the gutter because he’s completely blue. “Can’t you read?” I point my finger up to the sign among the balloons.

  I close my eyes to see if, when I reopen them his aura will change.

  Damn! Still blue.

  He steps back and tilts his head up. “Kissing booth, five dollars.” I hear his words cross those lips and suddenly I’m willing to pay to kiss him.

  “Okay,” he states blankly, replacing the five with a ten spot.

  I close my eyes. I hold my hands up to my chest in fear he’ll be able to feel my powerfully pounding heart. I want this to be over. Secretly I wonder what he thinks of a girl who’d offer herself up in this capacity.

  All my coherent thinking flies out the window as I lean in with a not so much pucker lips and kiss him. I freeze, unsure what to do next. My lips linger against his and he kisses me back.

  The tip of my nose tingles as I smell his scent. It falls over me and leaves a trail as he pulls away.

  For my research, I decide that he definitely used The Pehhhck method. I rock back on my heels with my lips rubbing together as though I’m trying to absorb every fiber of his kiss into my soul.

  “Come on, buddy,
” the next guy in line yells. “Move it or get a room!”

  Oh crap! My eyes open and I find him staring at me. This is not a normal kiss, for a kissing booth, that is.

  “Thanks,” I say, but I really want him to say something. “The animals appreciate it.” I blush realizing how stupid I sound.

  He holds up his fingers. “I paid for two.”

  I blush. I look beyond him. “He paid for two,” I confirm to the waiting line behind him and we lean in toward each other.

  Three

  There has to be a relationship between pheromones and kissing. Time has passed and my mood from this morning is drastically different from what it is now.

  I admit, I didn’t want to work in the kissing booth, but it’s been fun. I’ve mainly only had a peck here and a hand shake there. More importantly everyone wants to give money for the animals. Even the girlfriends of the guys kissing me don’t seem to don’t mind since it’s all going to a good cause.

  Don’t misunderstand me, I do get some nasty stares.

  “It’s for a good cause,” I holler at the lady who tips her nose up at my booth.

  “Ah, the good ole’ kissing booth.” The suave neatly coiffed blonde-haired hunk, is walking next to the booth with his mutt and another guy whose baseball cap is pulled down over his eyes.

  I walk around the booth, and since it’s five minutes until quitting time and no one’s in line, I figure it’s time to shut down the lip business. “Hey, buddy.” I point to the fluffy dog. “What’s his name?”

  I look back and forth at the two, and notice the one with the cap doesn’t look my way.

  “Tramp.” The blonde guy bends down next to me as we stroke his dog. “Or at least that’s what his papers say.” He pulls the adoption papers out of his pocket.

  “Oh good.” I’m a little uncomfortable being close to this guy. I don’t know what the vibe is, but I know it’s not good. He stares at me in a creepy way. I stand up and take a step back, every break-up I’ve done racing through my mind. Do I recognize his guy? Is that what the vibe is? Is he a disgruntled dumpee? Has he tracked me down?

  “How’s business?” He refers to the booth behind me.

  I take a couple steps back to put some distance between us. “It was fine.”

  The light radiating between the two men is not good. I’ve only sensed this type of aura once before. No, no please. I steady myself against the booth and close my eyes.

  When I was a teenager, a little boy went missing. I dreamed of him in a scary basement. When I woke, Aunt Matilda wrote down all the details and took it to the police. Afterward the police found him in that same basement. From then on the police called upon Aunt Matilda to help them with crimes their department had problems solving. Only, I was the one helping them, they just didn’t know it.

  When they put the boy’s kidnapper in a line up, Aunt Matilda had to go in and tell them if he was in the vision—totally unusable in a court of law, but helpful anyway. Even though the police objected, she took me. She didn’t want them to know I was the one who had the vision. But she was determined that all the bad guys got put behind bars since the love of her life turned out to be a thief who got away with it. She was a big believer in paying it forward even if it meant bringing me to the police station. I’ll never forget the moment I laid eyes on that man. His aura popped up –magenta.

  “Was?” The perfect blonde specimen looks at his watch, and then peers at me. “You have a few minutes left.” He puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a five. I blink, hoping the auras will go back to their normal colors. But when I open my eyes, they’re still the same. These guys’ auras aren’t pure magenta, but a combination of yellow and violet. I’m having a hard time reading them, but I know they’re not good.

  I gather my belongings. “I’m sorry. The booth is closed.” I turn around relieved to see Erin walking towards me. I point at her. “See. She’s coming to collect the money.”

  He steps back and hands me the money. “Keep it. It’s for charity.”

  “Uh, hi.” Erin’s eyes dart nervously between me and the guy. “Uh, I’ve been looking all over for you.” She continues with a faint grin. Oh no. I’ve seen that look before. Is this another loser in her notched up bedpost? Her smile fades slightly.

  My head is pounding, the auras of all the men at the kissing both colliding like bumper cars in my mind. I need my house, where there are no kaleidoscopic auras. Or maybe dinner.

  “I’ve been right here, all day.” I hurry to grab my purse. Definitely dinner, I decide because I can’t wait to tell Erin about this guy’s aura. But when I turn back around, Erin and evil eyes are in their own lip lock. Her crystal aura is now completely matching his violet one.

  My heart drops to my feet. Oh. My. God. Erin. . .and. . .this guy? No wonder she’s acting all nervous. She better not use Splitsville.com again. One of these days I hope she’ll find the right guy.

  The time I told Erin about my little “gift” zips into my pounding head. She hadn’t taken it well. “You mean you’re a freak?” she asked. This was not the reaction I’d hoped for. Her words still burn.

  “No,” I spat out. “I have a gift.”

  Her eyebrows had angled into a V and she peered at me like I really was a freak. “So you’re saying you can see an aura around me right now?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Erin, I can see your crystal aura.” I jammed my hands on my hips. “I don’t get why you’re angry.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I hadn’t wanted to, but I gave her proof by telling her about the time her high school boyfriend cheated on her.

  She gawked at me. “Great, so you’re going to know what I’m thinking or feeling before I do,” she said after she got over the shock of her cheating ex. She’d been absolutely right. Erin has very few secrets from me.

  Her reaction then hadn’t been welcome. She’d thought I was a freak and started calling me her “freak friend” as a joke, but it had hurt and I don’t want to relive that now by telling her that her boyfriend is a Romeo. By the way she is acting, she definitely won’t want to hear anything I have to say.

  Erin pulls away. “I see you met Kent,” she says hesitantly. He, on the other hand, looks like he’s holding a prize trophy. Erin is obviously his Heisman.

  I look at Kent then back to Erin and ask, “So is this your Kent?” I’d hope the last break up would’ve made her come to her senses. But with his aura, I don’t think she has. I peak around them to see his friend continuing to walk away from us.

  Interesting. I watch Kent’s aura fade from magenta to yellow to violet. He’s not crystal like Erin. I’ve never seen anything like this before. I make a mental stickie to ask Matilda what it means.

  “Yes, uh, we met.” He smiles like the cat with a feather in his mouth. Somehow he seems to know I won’t tell her how creepy he is. “She was petting my little boy.”

  The lines between Erin’s brows squeeze in tension and she points towards Kent’s friend. “Was that…”

  Kent interrupts, “Timmerman, yeah. He’ll catch up with us later. He’s got to go somewhere.” We all look.

  “I like Tramp,” I say to break the tension. I bend down to rub the bushy eyebrows out of his face. I want to make sure his aura is okay even though his rough, shaggy fur is indicative to Irish Wolfhounds. “He seems like a nice dog.” I smile when his aura tells me he’s happy to be out of the kennel.

  Erin fidgets with the strap on her purse. “Isn’t he great?” I wonder who she’s referring to, Kent or Tramp? “Kent adopted him today,” she adds. Like she’s a sales person and her client is her boyfriend. Only I’m not buying. Kent may have Erin fooled, but his aura tells me the truth about him.

  “Yeah, great.” I pat Tramp on the head and want to shake the shit out of Erin. Her boyfriend is a snake, and all her fidgeting makes me wonder if she doesn’t think so, too.

  “I’m talking about Kent.” She shrugs and wraps her arms tightly around his waist. He bends down
to kiss her. She casts her eyes on me looking for my approval—another look I’ve seen one too many times. “We have to get going.”

  Erin’s hands grasp Kent’s and she pulls him towards the parking lot.

  “Wait!” I put my hands up. One payoff to my volunteering is her taking me to dinner. “I thought we’re going to eat.” I can sit through a dinner with Kent, I think. I need food!

  “Yeah, I’m looking forward to getting to know you,” he says with a wink. “I’d like to see if everything Erin tells me is true. How wonderful you really are.”

  What the heck was that wink about? My distaste for this guy is growing at a steady rate, but my hunger pains are faster.

  Erin begins to fumble. “I…I thought you might be tired and…” she says to me.

  I rub my temples. “I am, but I’m hungry.”

  She knows what it means when my thumbs massage my temples. “You should probably go home.”

  “I’m hungry,” I say again. She’s not getting off the hook that easy. I need to spend a little more time with Kent to figure out what his game is. But suddenly Erin lunges and grabs the arm of a guy walking by. I stare. The arm of the cute guy who paid for two kisses. The one with the unbelievable blue aura.

  “Hey Erin!” he says. “Great job today.” The guy gestures around the park. “I think we beat last year.”

  “Oh, yeah, thanks. Um, Bradley, this is Olivia.” She continues to hold his arm and nods towards me. “The Olivia I was telling you about.”

  I guess she didn’t tell him anything good, because he looks as perplexed as I feel. She’s never mentioned Bradley to me or described him. I would’ve remembered that.

  “Umm…” Bradley seems a little flustered. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you talking about...”