Page 36 of The Frathole

Marty’s shoulders relax before he searches around the room, as though the walls are gonna start making fun of him for even considering the idea. He runs his hand through his hair. “If this is a trick…” he says, the threat in his tone.

“No trick.”

I guess it’s a little bit of a trick since I’m helping him so I won’t wind up on probation, but the kissing itself is not a trick.

“You know this is a weird-ass idea, right?” he says.

“Seems practical to me. What, you got some kind of queerphobia that makes you worried about kissing a dude?”

“Ash and Lance are my best buds, so you know that’s not it.”

“Oh, is thisI have a queer friend, so I’m not queerphobic?” I tease.

“That’s not how I meant it. I’m just—”

“I’m giving you hell. Get your ass over here and plant one on me. And I’ll give you instructions. We can work on it.”

He scratches at his arm, clearly thinking it over, which is better than where things started. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

He doesn’t want to do this, and I get it, but I need to get through to him if there’s even a chance of helping him get over this. “One time when I was a kid, I was really struggling with my throw, so Dad got me down to the park every day. And I didn’t want to because I thought it was embarrassing and that it wouldn’t do any good because I was crap at it, but we kept drilling away, and you know what happened?”

“It worked?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t like what this implies about how much we’ll have to do this.”

“Sit on this bed,” I instruct, my tone letting him know I won’t back down until he caves.

He eyes me uneasily before settling beside me again, which is a relief because a minute ago I thought he was gonna rush out of his room.

But despite how pushy I’m being, I also don’t want to push him too far before he’s ready. “Mart, you can do this. I won’t judge you or tell anyone about what we do…or how bad of a kisser you are.” At his look, I add, “Sorry again. Hey, words aren’t really my thing. Let’s do this. Come on. Give it to me.”

“This isn’t gonna work,” he mutters.

“If you’re that shitty, I’ll let you know,” I joke.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Meanwhile, some girls would kill to be in this bed with me right now, having me as their kissing instructor.”

“Kill?”

“Stop stalling.”

He takes a breath and leans toward me. I’m surprised he’s going along with it. Maybe this is really happening…

But he stays stiff in place.

“You need me to close my eyes?” I ask, batting my eyes playfully.

“I need you to shut your dumb mouth.”

“That might be what your issue with kissing is.”

“Can you cut it with the jokes?”

“I’m trying to lighten the mood.”