One-Shot: The Beaver Kiss
The picture was of a wall that read RIP BRIAN in large graffiti. The accompanying text only said: Meet me here! Porter Black sat on his bed, considering for a moment about whether to go investigate.
When he arrived at the edge of town many minutes later, he crossed a stack of wooden lumber to find a mural painted against one brick-red wall of a loading dock. "Wow," he breathed, almost half to himself.
"Must have sent you fifteen texts. Giving up on you," Norah, his classmate, sauntered up behind him.
"Well…. that makes two of us," Porter revealed quietly. He had always been a pretty meek kind of guy, but especially so whenever he was around her.
A brief pause, as the two teenagers shared a look of mutual understanding. "You were right," Norah finally admitted. "I guess I had some stuff to say…. Apparently a lot of stuff," and a ghost of a smile appeared. "Anyway, now you know what's on my mind so you can write my speech."
Porter turned back to face her from where he had been observing the mural. He had almost forgotten about the deal he had made with the valedictorian, the same one he had been conscripted into for most of his high school classmates: doing their assignments for them for cash. It had been a fairly lucrative enterprise, but now, with his dad's problems worsening…..
"Nah…. I think I'm officially out of that business."
Norah only laughed. "Uh-uh. You owe me," and she took the edges of his jacket and pulled him slightly closer to her. The look in her eyes seemed passionate, though haunted still by a tinge of sadness.
"You made this for me," Porter spoke aloud his realization.
"Yesterday," Norah confirmed quietly.
"How come?" Porter queried, intrigued, as Norah glanced briefly at the mural and then back to him.
"Because…. there's more that belongs on a wall than….. Norah has a dead brother." She looked back to her creation. "Even if it is a big mess." Though perhaps her version of self-deprecation, Porter would not allowe her to cut herself down as he followed her gaze.
"It's amazing," he breathed. And he meant it.
Norah laughed, a genuine smile appearing for the first time. Porter loved that smile and wished he could find some way to make it stay there, for the whole world to see. "Funny. I think it's a mess and you think it's amazing." Her eyes darkened, now revealing passion and….. tender love. "I think you're amazing and you think you're a mess." She finally shook her head to clear it. "And you know what? I don't wanna think anymore…"
Her hands gently framed his face as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his in a smooth kiss. Only briefly did their mouths open to, curve around, each other, as Norah captured Porter's top lip between hers. Porter's eyes closed instantly. They broke apart briefly, before diving for each other's lips again in a chaster kiss. Norah's fingers danced along the curve of Porter's neck, and she smiled gently. Nose-to-nose with him, she murmured, "You still owe me a speech. Just make sure it sounds like me." Pecking his lips one last time chastely, she turned to go. Stunned, Porter finally managed to find his voice as he stammered after her:
"So….. do I just sit here, writing, and get arrested again?"
In her cut-off jeans that gave Porter a perfect view of her sexy arse, Norah spun back and giggled. "No, take it with you, dummy!" Smiling, she headed for her car.
Porter stared after her. "Take it with me…..?" All at once, he understood. Approaching the mural, he began to peel back its red layers, digging for the answer that Norah had left for him…..