Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER FOUR
THAT KISS

Jackie gazed up at the stars twinkling over the Pinciottis' backyard. The cold air chilled her throat. The yellow sofa she sat on clashed with her red jacket, but this Wednesday was a good one. It promised even better Wednesdays to come if she did her part.

Her English notebook was on her lap. An index card peeked out from it like a bookmark, one of the five she had left. But she wouldn't need any more than that. God didn't make mistakes. She fully believed that now, but she had to use the wisdom that experience had given her.

"Hello?" Donna's waved her gloved hand in front of Jackie's face. She was sitting beside Jackie on the sofa. "Are you gonna tell me why you're forcing me to sit out here instead of inside where we can get some hot cocoa? It's freaking freezing."

"The stars, Donna. What I have to tell you requires a more cosmic backdrop than your kitchen's tacky wallpaper."

"So...?"

Jackie tapped her pen against her notebook. " I know who my soulmate is."

"Oh, my God. Who?" Donna smiled like she'd gotten season tickets to the Packers, and Jackie savored the moment. Donna rarely got this excited about Jackie's romantic life.

"My soulmate overthinks things and doesn't think enough," Jackie said, "but I understand him. He's terrified. His ideas about soulmates got corrupted by what his awful family did to him, but—"

"Did he tell you that? I thought he barely shared anything personal."

"Aren't you listening? I know who he is!" Jackie pulled her index card from the notebook and flapped it in the air. "He didn't have to share anything through these. I've seen it. I've heard it"

Donna exhaled, and her breath came out as a white cloud. "Wait, you're saying he's someone here? Like, in our town … our school?"

Jackie shut her eyes. She wanted to confess everything, but that would ruin her plan. "All I can say is he's very close." A giggle tickled her chest, and she couldn't hold it in. She laughed until it grew into a cackle. "I am a mastermind, Donna. The last few cards I wrote him have him quaking in his boots!"

"Are you being lazy by using that cliché are are you being literal?"

"Jealous."

"Frustrated," Donna said. "And cold." She hugged herself and shivered. "Either tell me who your soulmate is, or I'm going in."

Jackie huffed. Donna should've worn a better coat. Jackie wasn't exactly warm herself, but her wool coat kept her teeth from chattering. Adrenaline probably played a small part, too.

Donna stared at her. "Well?"

"I can't tell you yet. I want him to realize who I am without anyone's help. And you know how interfering you are. You'd give him obvious hints—"

"I would not!" Donna pressed her lips together and glanced up at the sky. "Okay, maybe I would."

Jackie pointed her pen at her index card. "I need my messages, his brain, and his heart to get him to figure it out. I have the advantage now."

"Oh, yeah? Could you tell me how? Because I'd love to get the advantage over Eric."

"I'm using my knowledge of him against him … for us."

"Huh. You might just have something there."

Jackie twirled her pen like a baton. "Are you finally ready to admit how much of a genius I am?"

"If you get what you're hoping to get, I will."

"Don't think I won't hold you to that. Watch this."

She used her notebook as a writing surface and wrote one word on her index card: "Tomorrow."

The card disappeared in a flash of light, and her cheeks flushed. Thursday was going to change two lives irreversibly. God had done His part, and Jackie was doing hers. Now her soulmate just had to do his.

Hyde had considered jumping into the Camino this morning, cutting school, and driving somewhere far from Point Place, like Canada. He'd gotten a message from his soulmate last night, simply stating, "Tomorrow."

She was either lying about everything, or she'd follow through on her implied threats. She'd show up here at school and force herself on him, kissing him, killing him, or both.

He removed his shades and studied the lobby bulletin board. No notes from Forman, Fez, or Kelso. They were supposed to meet him at lunch period and go to The Hub, but they were late. Just what he didn't need. Safety existed in numbers, and he was alone.

A clamor of voices and squeaky footsteps echoed across the lobby. It traveled from the senior lockers, and area that also served as junction between stairwells. Most students were heading downstairs to the cafeteria, but one voice rose above the racket: "Steven—"

His body reacted first, jumping backward, but his brain identified Jackie. She was standing beside him, wearing a peach-colored ski jacket. She'd curled her hair, and it framed her face without hiding any of its features, like her soft brown eyes and slightly frowning mouth.

"Hey," she said, "are you okay?"

More adrenaline pumped into his system, but he clutched his belt buckle and sniffed. "I'm cool."

"Could've fooled me. You look really tense."

He jutted his chin toward the senior locker area. His friends were more than late now. They were pissing him off. "Just waiting for the morons to show up, but I'm about to bail. Lunch period's only got so many minutes, you know?"

She adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. "We could go to lunch together."

"You haven't talked to me since you bolted from my room on Sunday."

"Yes, I have."

"No, you haven't."

"I have," she said, and he flinched at the intensity in her eyes. He covered his agitation by cracking his neck. Maybe she had tried to talk to him, but he hadn't heard her.

"Anyway..." her gaze softened again, and she pushed a thick curl from her cheek, "I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. It wasn't a nice thing to do, especially since you shared something so personal. But I read something in the cards your soulmate wrote, and I just had to go."

He could respect that. His soulmate's messages had a similar effect on him. "Buy you a cheeseburger?" he said and gestured to the lobby's double doors.

"Really?"

"You like cheeseburgers, right?"

"Yes. I'm just surprised you'd know that—and would buy my lunch."

"I pay attention. I also did an extra shift at the Fotohut last week." He patted his jeans pocket. "Got some dough."

She tilted her head. "If this is a bribe..."

"What the hell would I bribe you for?"

"To leave you alone."

He puffed out his cheeks and let out a breath. The only person he wanted to leave him alone was his soulmate. "I'm offerin' to buy you lunch," he said. "Put two and two together."

"I'm not the one who—" She bit into her knuckle and closed her eyes. "You know what? Let's go."

Hyde glanced over his shoulder at the school. He shifted his focus to the street then to the students walking ahead of him and Jackie. The Hub was only a few blocks away, but his soulmate had plenty of space to strike.

"You really are tense," Jackie said. "What is going on?"

"Why'd you say soulmates are bullshit on Sunday?" His question wasn't meant as a deflection, but he had to ease her into his situation gradually.

"Mine doesn't want anything to do with me. He told me to give up on him." She grasped her purse and pushed it against her hip. "Nothing I've written has convinced him to reconsider, so I've done what he asked. I've given up on him."

His stomach cramped a little. She'd done what he wished his own soulmate would do: give up on him. He glanced over his shoulder again. No one was following, not even Forman, Kelso, or Fez. His soulmate could've gotten to them first, to thin out his defenses. .

"Your soulmate doesn't know you, man," he said and sped up the pace, "so he doesn't know what he's missing out on. I..." He scrubbed a hand over his face and accidentally smudged his shades. Crap. Cleaning them would only slow him down, and he hooked them on his shirt collar. "But even when you're in front of someone, interacting with her on a daily basis, you can miss a helluva lot. He's probably screwed up in the head. You're better off."

She didn't respond until The Hub was in view. "How could I possibly be better off?"

"'Cause you don't have a crazy nutjob stalking you."

"Is that why you're so nervous?"

He held open The Hub's door for her. "Yeah."

She entered, and he followed, but his heart pummeled his skull. If his soulmate was actually spying on him, and she realized Jackie was the chick he'd fallen for over her ... "Fuck," he said. "This is a bad idea."

"You don't have to pay for my burger. I can—"

"No, man. My soulmate's a psycho and after me. She sees us together, she could come after you. Don't want you getting hurt 'cause of me."

"Too late for that, Steven." She grabbed his jacket sleeve and dragged him to the food-ordering line. "But it's my own fault because I've been so stubborn."

He tugged on his earlobe. He had no clue what she she getting at.

"Your soulmate doesn't scare me, " she said, "but she's already hurt both of us."

"That's why you split on Sunday," he said. She didn't answer, but that was the only logical explanation. His soulmate's messages must've kicked her bruises.

They reached the cashier and ordered, and as they waited for their food, Hyde scoped out The Hub. The regulars were here—Jimmy Headgear and half the debate team—but part of Jackie's cheer squad sat at a pair of tables.

"I'll pay for the food, but maybe you should sit over there..." He nodded at the cheerleaders.

"I'm not leaving you." She rubbed his arm reassuringly. "Like I said, your soulmate doesn't scare me."

The cashier rang a bell on the order counter. Their food was ready, and Hyde carried it on a tray to a strategically chosen table, one by the jukebox. His vantage point let him watch all three of The Hub's entryways: the front door, the back door, and the bathroom door.

He and Jackie unwrapped their burgers, and Forman, Kelso, and Fez finally arrived. Rhonda was with them, but Hyde focused on Jackie. Talking about his problems wasn't his style. The worse his trouble, the less he liked to speak. But to have any chance with Jackie, he'd have to open up. "If you were me," he said, "what'd you tell my soulmate to get her to back off?"

"Well, as someone who pursued you relentlessly in the past, no matter what you said to me, I'm the right person to ask."

"And?"

She popped a French fry into her mouth, and he tried not to stare. She even chewed cutely. "When did I finally leave you alone?"

The nape of his neck got hot. He drank some pop, but it didn't cool him down. "That kiss," he said.

"Our kiss. It made me realize just how much I'd started to love you … and because of that, I believed you couldn't possibly be my soulmate." She curled her fingers over his hand and squeezed it. Electric warmth shot up his arm. "You were too real," she said, and her statement vibrated through his whole damn skeleton.

He opened his mouth to speak, but someone thumped his shoulder. "Hyde?" Kelso said by his ear. "What are you doing with Jackie?"

"Use your eyes," Fez said. "They are on a date." He stood beside Jackie and put his hands on his hips. "We waited forty-five seconds for you in the lobby! You could not have left us a note on the bulletin board?"

"They can't be on a date..." Forman gestured to Hyde and Jackie's clasped hands, "despite that damning evidence. She's probably just trying to read his palm or something."

They had the table surrounded, blocking Hyde's view of The Hub's entryways, but Jackie's grip on his hand hadn't loosened. She was still with him, and that was all that mattered.

Forman held an index card in front of Hyde's face. "Look at this latest gem! Then get your heinie to our table." He hiked his thumb to The Hub's only booth, where Rhonda was sitting. "Take it. Read it. Help me write a response to it." He snapped his fingers. "Time's-a-wasting, mister!"

Hyde shoved the card back at Forman. "Later. Got my own shit to deal with."

"Jackie, did you hear that?" Kelso said. "Hyde just called you shit."

"Oh, he did not. Go away, Michael." She tossed a French fry at his unbruised eye. "All of you, go away."

Hyde freed his hand and wrapped his burger in The Hub's tinfoil. "Grab your food," he said to her. "We're eating on the go."

He went to the order window amid Forman, Kelso, and Fez's complaints and got two take-out bags. His friends could be relentless when they were in a mood, but he wouldn't let them or the cosmos dictate how he spent his time.

Or who he spent it with.

The warmth of Steven's palm spread through Jackie's body as he led her to a playground. The slides, seesaws, and monkey bars were full of screaming kids, probably from the nearby elementary school. But she and Steven needed quiet.

They found it on an unoccupied bench by the toddler swings, where moms pushed their bundled-up babies into the air. She could eat without shrieks blasting her eardrums, but her cheeseburger was less than hot. The October air had acted like a refrigerator, but it didn't bother her. Steven was here, had held her hand willingly, and was looking at her without his sunglasses.

"What?" she said.

"You got any of your index cards on ya?"

"Why?"

"'Cause I need you to write your soulmate something."

She drank some Coke and ate a few fries, but her stomach fluttered. Steven was onto her. He had to be, but what was he after? "I don't have many cards left," she said. "I don't want to waste them."

"What's it matter? You said you gave up on your soulmate."

Her shoulders stiffened. "Are you angry at me?"

"For what?" he said, and she pushed her remaining burger aside on the bench. The pigeons could have it. He was trying to goad her into a confession, that she was his soulmate and had written him those creepy messages. But she wouldn't do it. As long as he acted clueless, she'd play along.

"Kissing you on Sunday night," she said.

He sipped at his Coke, as always with the straw at the corner of his mouth. The habit was strange, but it also brought out the boyishness in his face. He wasn't just handsome. He was cute, too, and her stomach flutters intensified. He didn't have the right to be both cute and handsome, not when she couldn't fully enjoy it.

"You pissed at me for not kissing you back?" he said.

"Disappointed."

"Huh." He glanced away, toward the toddler swings. He continued to eat his lunch, but his actions seemed automatic, like his thoughts had either stopped or were too fast for his body to keep up. "Don't want you to regret anything..." he said eventually, "like you did with Kelso."

She slid her hand over his knee. He was finally making sense. "The only thing I'll regret is wasting time." She pulled a pen and one of her remaining index cards from her purse. "What should I write?"

He looked at her again and cupped the side of her face. "Steven, what are you—" she said, but he scooted closer to her on the bench, and his lips touched hers lightly. She opened her mouth wider, half out of shock, half because she ached for more of him, but he didn't make her wait. He deepened the kiss, shining a summer sun onto her skin.

Her pen and index card dropped to the ground. A thrill careened through her body, and she hooked her arm around his shoulders for support. Their kiss was slow and deliberate, allowing her to feel his love and anguish at the core of her. He was still the little boy who didn't know if he were real, who'd grown into the teenager who believed he had no future worth living.

She withdrew from him a bit and pecked the corner of his lips. She'd carried that hurt little boy with her for years and loved the man he was becoming. Surely he understood that by now.

He continued to cup the side of her face, and his thumb caressed her cheek. "Write down how that kiss felt," he said quietly. "The truth. That'll tell your soulmate everything he needs to know."

His touch left her skin. Her cheek grew cold without him, and she suppressed the urge to grab his hand. He picked up her index card and pen from the ground and passed them to her.

"Where are you going?" she said when he got off the bench. Her voice was trembling, mirroring the quiver in her body.

"Givin' you privacy."

He left the playground, disappearing beyond the monkey bars and seesaws, and she checked her watch. She had seven minutes to get back to school, but she began to write on the index card.