Disclaimer: The Peanuts characters belong to Charles Monroe Schulz, even in the wake of his passing.
He'll Always Be Special In His Own Way.
Jab, jab!
Overhand right, left hook!
It wasn't helping.
Left hook body, left hook head, right uppercut!
Left uppercut, right uppercut, left hook head, right hook head!
Lucy was in her backyard, working the punching bag hanging from the tree. This was her standard routine for venting confusion or frustration. Only it wasn't having the desired effect: Charlie Brown was still on her mind, and for that, she was berating herself harshly.
I had one job, one bloody job: Congratulating him for making the football team! Why did I have to kiss him? Why?
The moment at her front door had enjoyed extensive playback in her mind, much to her chagrin. The mental playback always led to the same incontrovertible truths:
1) She, Lucy van Pelt, had spontaneously and with no external coercion kissed Charlie Brown.
2) She, Lucy van Pelt, couldn't for the love of all things holy force herself to regret the aforementioned action.
One week later, and she still hadn't been able to meet with him long enough to discuss the matter. Football practice had been occupying a great deal of his time. By now word at school was rife of his kicking abilities and of the role it could play in the upcoming season opener. From what she'd been hearing, the coach was pushing the team especially hard for the game. Meaning that even if she did have a chance to meet with him, he'd be too tired for any meaningful conversation.
For now, the punching bag would have to suffice. So she went back to it, launching back into constant flurries of combinations.
"I must say, your technique is superb!" Charlie Brown's voice proclaimed his presence at her back door. His voice also caused her to spin maybe a little too eagerly to face him. "You've got the makings of a future Ann Wolfe, you know that don't you?"
"Charlie Brown, what are you doing here?" Her voice conveyed her surprise – but not displeasure – at his presence.
"Well, since we couldn't have any significant conversations at school this week, and as exhausted as I am, I figured your place could be as good a stopover as any on my way home," replied Charlie Brown in a droll voice. "Your mother said you'd be in your backyard."
"And what makes you think I'm still thinking about the kiss I gave you last week?" Defiance had now tempered Lucy's eager voice.
"Well, there's the fact that you brought up the event totally unprompted," answered a still droll Charlie Brown. If he was deriving any pleasure from Lucy's resultant mortified look, he was doing a world-class job of concealing it.
"Urgh! OK, so I kissed you! What of it? Are you reading anything deeper into it?" Lucy was still in her defensive mode.
"Are you?" parried Charlie Brown, before clarifying. "Because as agreeable as I found it, I was confused as to how you concluded that kissing me on the cheek was the most appropriate action with which to congratulate me."
To which Lucy had to confess: "I don't know, Charlie Brown. I simply do…not…know! Maybe I'm simply returning the faith you've shown in me for all these years in which I treated you poorly. Maybe I was allured by the way you've turned around your wishy-washy nature. There's no single possibility. Maybe even – Heaven forfend – I've even been allured by you yourself!"
Charlie Brown appeared unmoved by the statement, but his response contradicted his appearance. "And that's why we should have had this discussion sooner! As I said, I didn't find your kiss particularly disagreeable; in fact, if that's to be expected from getting to know you better, then sign me up!"
Upon hearing that, Lucy fought hard to suppress a blush. She wanted instead to offer a glib counter to Charlie Brown's assertion. But the blockhead hindered any attempt at such a counter with: "Look, I'm not expecting a concrete answer from you right away."
Lucy was rendered instantly deflated at that reassurance. "Besides," Charlie Brown continued while eying her boxing gloves and the punching bag, "it seems you're still resolving your internal conflicts."
"I guess I do need some time to get my thoughts in order," Lucy admitted. "Thanks, I suppose, for at least allowing me that courtesy."
A mischievous smile then appeared on Charlie Brown's face as he said: "But don't think I'll be making it any easier."
Having said that, he walked up to her, whereupon he gently pinched her chin between his left thumb and index finger, the better to guide his lips to hers for the briefest of delicate touches.
Again, Lucy was rendered silent and petrified, for which Charlie Brown was ever thankful. "I realize I was taking a chance, so thank you for not decking me."
To which Lucy instantly snapped back to her usual self. "And who says I'm not thinking of doing so right now? Could be I'm just too tired to follow through!"
Charlie Brown played along, still smiling. "In which case, I'm the world's luckiest person?"
"Oh, just go home, you blockhead!" Lucy ordered behind a smirk that conveyed absolutely zero malice. "Go rest for your upcoming game!"
"So long, Lucy," replied Charlie Brown and turned to go home.
"…And good luck!" Lucy called out after him. He turned around to smile once more at her before continuing on his way.
When he was out of her sight, she returned to the bag.
Left hook body, left hook head, left-right head!
Left uppercut, right uppercut, left hook head, right hook head!
Meanwhile, from within the house, two figures had witnessed the preceding exchange. After which, the smaller boy turned to the bigger one and asked: "Why is it that I suddenly get the feeling that there's hope for humanity yet?"
Author's Note: Lucy's boxing scene was inspired by the scene in Snoopy Come Home in which she boxes Snoopy and shows just how hard her chin is. Her jabs were also particularly impressive; too bad Snoopy's bobbing-and-weaving technique was faster.