Kissy's dress is a knockout, or maybe it's the girl inside.

I stepped out of the hall, only a tiny bit wobbly on my heels, into the living room to see Marjorie and Mom standing near the arch into the kitchen while Rory stood up from sitting in the big chair. “Wow, Kissy,” he seemed to want to laugh. “I haven’t seen you in a dress before, you look great.”

From the kitchen area, Marjorie commented. “She should always wear dresses. Hello, Kissy. You look wonderful.” And she was also smiling. “I knew that color would suit you.” She stepped closer.

Mom also took a step. “Well, you kids are running a bit late? I guess you have to leave pretty quickly. And yes, hon, you look really nice.” And she was smiling, too!

“Is everyone getting along well?” I asked a little mystified. I had expected Mom and Marjorie to be going at it hammer and tongs with poor Rory likely to catch some crossfire. But no, it appeared everyone was bosom buds.

Marjorie said something but Rory had come right up to me and took my hands. The guy is so big, he kind of took up a lot of space that might have held more conversation. He bent down and gave me a kiss on the forehead, whispering at the same time, “Let’s get out of here.” But he said aloud, “I kinda wish I had stopped to change on my way, but, yeah, we’re already late, huh?”

Mom gave me a look, and being partly behind Marjorie, my would-be fiancée couldn’t see her signaling me to go with Rory, who was already pulling me toward the door. “Um g’night?” I said, waving after pulling one hand free of Rory’s grasp.

“Eleven p.m. curfew unless you call,” Mom said.

“Okay,” I replied.

In one long stride, Rory reached the door and pulled it open, towing me behind him with me taking itty bitty steps because of the heels. I caught a glimpse of Marjorie’s expression. She looked—bereft. Like a kid in a pet store watching someone else buy the puppy they wanted. Had fallen in love with.

I’m the puppy, I thought as Rory pulled me out the door, calling back behind him, “‘Night, Ms Parker, Ms Lords. Kissy’s safe with me.” Once the door was closed behind us, Rory pulled me closer. “You’re short,” he complained as he bent further to give me a kiss on the lips. “And you’re only as safe with me as you want to be.”

That kiss had left me all melty inside again. I snuggled against him, even in heels I wasn’t taller than his shoulder but I turned my face up for another kiss, determined to kiss back this time. “Uh-huh,” I said. “I’ll let you know how safe that is.”

He laughed. Then we kissed and when I opened my mouth in response to his tongue, I wasn’t thinking of safety at all. We’d done kissing like that the night before but it was still new to me and left me breathless and a bit wobbly when he broke it off. I blamed that on the corset and heels, mostly, but I kept hold of his arm in order not to fall down.

He laughed again softly. “You kiss like a virgin,” he whispered. It wasn’t dark yet and he could clearly see me blush. “Kissy’s a virgin,” he sang in a whisper, “Kissy’s a virgin.”

I wanted to hit him. My face was on fire. I tried to wriggle away from him, not wanting to say the only thing it occurred to me to utter. No, asking, “Who’s fault is that?” would not improve things.

“Shh, shh,” he said, still whispering. “All teasing and flirting aside, we ought to get out of here. The tension between your mom and your—” he gave me a look, “—your girlfriend was like 50,000 volts.”

I nodded. I really wanted to know what Mom and Marjorie were doing in there but getting away from ground-zero also seemed like a smart option.

Mom’s car was in our carport, Marjorie’s Mercedes on the apron behind it and Rory’s testosterone-fueled pickup on the street. Illegally since there wasn’t enough curb for legal parking in this part of the street, another reason for us to move quickly.

Rory clicked his keyfob and the big Toyota chirped in answer as he led me up to the passenger side door. He grinned at me, “You had enough trouble climbing in wearing pants and deck shoes, it might be entertaining to watch you try in a skirt and heels.”

I pouted at him and he laughed, After opening the door, he simply picked me up and put me inside. “Thank you,” I said with as much saccharine as I could find. He laughed again, closed the door and raced around to his own side of the monster truck.

I watched him in the mirrors, he was wearing faded jeans, a tank top, and over that a white, open, untucked, baseball shirt with the number 53 on the back with Titans under that and Beeson over it. I buckled up while he clambered in and we were on our way. Kissy Beeson, I thought, but no. Kissy Lords? No, no, no.

“Do you remember where Armand lives?” I asked, trying to change the mental subject. Kissy Gower? Yikes.

“Sure,” he said. “Mando Packysaurus lives practically around the corner from where we lived on Massachusetts. Where my parents still live.”

I nodded, “Seems weird that you and Armand were friends, you’re such a jock and he’s like king of the nerds.” I giggled.

He kept grinning. “Armand was on the wrestling team. Won a lot of matches but didn’t make CIF, because he just didn’t have enough competitive spirit. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.” He shook his head. “He was on the frosh football team too, his first year at Marshall.”

CIF was some kind of award but I wasn’t sure what the letters meant. “I didn’t know that,” I admitted. I really hadn’t paid much attention at all to sports in school.

“While you were in middle school,” Rory explained. “Time you and your buddies showed up, Armand split the Games Club off the Chess Club and all the nerds joined Armand’s Army.”

I giggled. We had called ourselves that. We were the nerdiest of the nerds. Everyone played video games but we played games with pen and paper, thick rulebooks and odd-shaped dice. Still, with Armand as our leader and sticking together, we no longer had anything to worry about from bullies. There were as many as twenty boys in the club, but only four or five girls at any one time.

But there had been one more girl than anyone had known about. Me.

“Are you hungry?” Rory suddenly asked. “I ate at the buffet with the guys after the game, but if you’re hungry we could stop or drive-thru?”

I shook my head. “There’ll be food at the game and I’m not really hungry anyway. Oh! But Armand asked me to bring some sodas. Can we stop and get some?”

“Sure,” he said. He pulled into a 7-Eleven at the next corner. “You wait here, I’ll be right out. Uh—any particular kind you like?”

“Mountain Dew,” I said. “But the guys will drink anything with caffeine.”

He was out and gone with a, “Be right back,” before I could offer to pay. I watched him leave, smiling and thinking it was nice to have someone who would fetch things for me. I giggled a bit. I wouldn’t have wanted to try to carry a pack of sodas across the parking lot with my nails, a short skirt and heels.

Three boys on skateboards went through the lot, pausing for a moment to look at me sitting up high in the passenger seat of the huge truck. They might have been middle schoolers. I smiled and waved at them with my fingers and they grinned and waved back, then got into some kind of contest to see who could jump the curb in some complicated way.

They kept looking back at me and I realized that they were stunting on their boards to attract my attention. Goofy, but sort of sweet. I watched them and smiled when they looked my way.

Rory came trotting back with two twelve packs of soda balanced on one broad shoulder. Dr. Pepper and Diet Mountain Dew. I hadn’t said diet and the guys at the game would probably sneer at it but watching calories was something girls did (and I’d probably better start), so Rory was thinking of me that way. Which I appreciated and gave me another giggle.

“Hey, Babe,” he said after stowing the booty in the back seat and climbing behind the wheel again. He grinned at me. “I saw your fans.”

I laughed. Rory leaned toward me and I leaned toward him and we kissed. His lips were warm and firm and he smelled of a recent shower but with that hint of raw spicy musk that seemed part of him. Something stirred inside me at the scent and for a moment, I regretted going to the game when what I really wanted was to get Rory somewhere we could be alone.

And do what? Neck, I suppose. I really wasn’t ready to go further. Well, I was ready, apparently from the way I felt about him, but I wasn’t going to do it. Yet.

“I’d better get to the game,” I said, pulling away from what had turned into a lingering set of kisses. “I’m already half an hour late.”

“Yeah, Babe,” he said and got the truck rolling. He kept glancing sideways at me as we cruised through the neighborhood, somewhat more affluent than the one where I lived. And his grin kept getting wider.

“What?” I finally asked.

“I don’t want a compliment to go to your head, Kissy,” he said, still grinning. “But you’re a knockout and clearly not in the league of any of the guys in Armand’s Army. They’re going to be expecting one of their own to come in, this is the first time they’re going to see you—and you’re like this?” He waved a hand.

“You think it’s a bad idea?” I asked, a little concerned.

“No, I think it’s going to be fucking hilarious!” He laughed out loud. “Sorry. I think it’s going to be funny to watch them try to impress you, like those idiot kids on their skateboards!”

Thinking about it when Rory stopped at a stopsign, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or get the heebie-jeebies. Rory must have sensed my indecision because he turned to look at me and raised an eyebrow.

I rolled a twenty on my resolve and pointed forward. “Drive,” I said.