"I beg your pardon?" Asked Rhonda, scandalized.
"Kiss Curly for five seconds." Sid smiled toothily, chin up, arms folded. The room erupted in laughter.
"Absolutely not! I'd rather die!"
"Now, Rhonda," began Gerald, "You can't just wimp out and refuse to do a dare... That breaks the Truth or Dare code, and, if I remember correctly, brands you a 'weasel for life'. And let me tell you, that isn't fun. Ain't that right, Sid? Sid the weasel?" Gerald smiled, his eyes half lidded.
"It was one stupid dare. Sue me." Shrugged Sid, trying and failing to look indifferent.
"Yeah, but don't you regret not doing it? Now that you're a weasel and everyone knows it?"
"Well, yeah. I thought you guys would forget after a day or two but..." Sid looked down, dejectedly.
Rhonda weighed the options. In one hand, by not kissing Curly she would be on the same level as Sid, which was mortifying yet definitely not lethal, on the other, if she kissed Curly she'd probably die...
"Oh, and if you DON'T do it, chances are your popularity will slip...nobody likes a weasel..." Added Helga loftily.
Rhonda's eyebrows dropped. That was too much. Rhonda would do anything to defend and protect her title as Most Popular.
"Fine. Get over here, Curly. You try anything- ANYTHING- funny, I will send you home in a shoebox. Got it, you little dweeb?"
Curly looked up at her, wide eyed. He wasn't even smiling. "Okay Rhonda. I'll behave myself." He said seriously. Despite his restraint, it was clear he was excited. This wasn't their first kiss, but it was definitely the first that Rhonda initiated. It would also, therefore, be the only one wherein he wouldn't be aggressive. He would relax, be a gentleman, you know.
Curly sat down on his knees in front of Rhonda, who then moved to her knees, too. Curly could hardly breathe. He could smell her hair. Heck, he could even smell the fabric softener she did her laundry with. He had never been this close to Rhonda (that she was aware of) for this long without her snapping at him.
Rhonda was fidgety. "Curly! I request you take off your glasses. If we are going to have to do this....this thing, I would prefer your memories be hazy and unclear." She pulled his glasses off. He didn't say a word.
"Move it along, Princess! We don't have all night!" ordered Helga.
"Yeah, quit stallin'!" interjected Sid.
"What are you, Rhonda? Chicken?" teased Harold.
Rhonda's face grew hot at the children's laughter. "I'll show YOU chicken!"
And with that, she grabbed Curly in a tight embrace, and muttered "Oh, God, forgive me." With that, she kissed him, seemingly passionately (without tongue of course- they're barely sixth graders!), and the circle counted slowly to five.
"One..."
Curly was breathless. He was, yet again, kissing Rhonda. The only way this moment could be better would be if she hadn't been dared and was kissing him of her own accord. But, beggers can't be choosers!
Rhonda was in agony. She could almost feel the diseases Curly was sure to have oozing onto her...
"Two..."
He could feel her body heat, her heart beat...
She could feel him shaking. She wasn't sure if that creeped her out or flattered her.
"Three..."
Okay, she DEFINITELY did not need to be holding him like this. She was only dared to kiss him, not passionately embrace him. That HAD to be a good sign...
She made up her mind. It creeped her out.
"Four..."
Why were they counting soo SLOW?
Why were they counting so FAST?
"Five!"
Rhonda broke away, gasping. "See! I'm not a chicken!" Rhonda yelled triumphantly, slightly deranged.
Curly just sat there, as if he was so overwhelmed he was incapable of intelligent thought.
"Uh...Rhonda?" asked Nadine tentatively, her voice small in the now quiet room. "...you can let Curly go now..."
"Oh, right..." Rhonda detached herself from Curly. "Um, sorry, Curly... you can go back to the other side of the circle now."
Curly barely registered what she said. He put his glasses on. "What did you-"
"GO BACK TO YOUR PLACE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CIRCLE!" she snapped.
The game continued. By the end of the party, Sheena had rapped, Gerald admitted to having a "soft spot", as he put it, for Phoebe (no surprises there), Stinky shared his worst, most embarrassing pee story ("Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't completely explode. I guess I'm lucky that I wet m'self. If my bladder had burst inside me, I woulda probly died right then and there!"), Helga admitted that her top favorite elementary school moments were saving the neighborhood, the time that flood happened, and Valentine's Day (though she didnt say why), and Harold refused to kiss a relieved Nadine on the cheek.
Soon, the party goers dispersed. Sighing in satisfaction, as the last party goers left ("Bye, Stinky! Bye Harold the weasel!"), Rhonda closed the door, as the voices of her last party goers faded off in the distance. Or so she thought.
She turned towards her living room and screamed. Curly was sitting on her couch.
"Rhonda, darling! Is everything alright?" Called her father from upstairs.
"Yes, Daddy! I...uh...saw a bug!" she called back cheerfully. Her toned changed when she saw Curly. "What on earth are you still doing here?" She whispered.
"Don't worry Rhonda. I was just leaving. I just wanted to talk to you alone for a minute." Curly stood up, and began walking towards her. She countered this by subconsciously walking backwards.
Oh god...why me?? she thought desperately.
"As you know, I'm leaving Hillwood in a few day's time, to uh, further my educational pursuits elsewhere..." He paused, trying to formulate what to say next. Rhonda had backed up against the wall.
"And seeing as well...we've known each other so long, I figure, why stop now just because of some silly little matter of a couple hundred miles?" He was a few feet from her at this point.
"I don't understand what you're asking me, Curly." Rhonda folded her arms. She was quiet, slightly unnerved, yet slightly, secretly thrilled at the energy in the air...
"You could call us close friends, right?"
"No."
"Regular friends?"
"No."
"A step above acquaintances?"
"No."
"At least not enemies? I mean, you don't HATE me, right?"
She paused. "I don't hate you, per say..." She inhaled. "I just don't always appreciate your behavior around me."
"Well, now that I'm leaving...you won't be seeing me, so you won't have to put up with that. I just have one simple favor to ask..."
"What's that?" Rhonda glared at him.
"Keep in touch with me. Maybe write me a letter if I write you one. I mean, I'm going out there alone...I'm gonna miss you. How could I not miss the most beautiful woman on the planet?" Easy Curly, he thought, don't go back to creeping her out...
"Are you nuts? After everything you put me through?!" Rhonda cried, then clamped her hand over her mouth. Her parents didn't seem to have noticed a thing.
"Let's be honest with ourselves," Curly began, edging closer. "You liked it."
Rhonda opened her mouth to protest. He, now mere feet away, reached out a hand and covered her lips. "Rhonda, if you didn't you wouldn't have paid me so much attention back...you would have tried to ignore my attempts, instead of giving me more attention...you fueled my love for you, you know you did..." He was inches away. She sputtered, but seemed unable to speak. "Why else would you have kissed me like that today? You didn't want me to forget you, just as much as i don't want you to forget me."
He was inches from her face.
"Just a few letters is all I ask, Rhonda. It's not every day a guy loves a girl as much as I love you..." Rhonda's eyes were like saucers. "Think about it."
He was about to kiss her. They both knew it. She wasn't doing anything to stop it. Encouraged, Curly took her in his arms and dipped her low, and puckered up.
The front door, several feet away, burst open. It was Harold, yelling "Rhonda, have you seen a blue jacket? I left-"
He saw the two in their, um, incriminating position.
Harold stared, mouth open. Curly and Rhonda, both shocked, stared back, frozen.
"Harold, what the heck's takin so long?" Cried Stinky, who ran up. "Oh."
Rhonda snapped out of it first, pushed Curly off her, and fell to the floor.
"I'm sorry, my beautiful queen, I didn't mean t drop you!" cried Curly.
"AHH-hahahaha!" burst Harold. "You guys were about to KISS!"
Stinky was laughing, too. "Gawsh, that kiss at the party just wasn't enough, huh?"
Something in Rhonda snapped. Her fury broke.
"WE WERE NOT ABOUT TO KISS! HE WAS ABOUT TO DO WHAT HE ALWAYS DOES AND SURPRISE KISS ME! TRUST ME, I WOULD NEVER KISS THAT LITTLE GEEK ON MY OWN ACCORD, FOR MY OWN ENJOYMENT, EVER!!! The thought of that makes me want to VOMIT! I mean, honestly? You think RHONDA WELLINGTON LLOYD would EVER like Curly??!"
Curly was shattered.
Stinky continued, but Curly heard from a distance, and saw like he was looking through the wrong end of a telescope. "Oh! Well, then it's a good thing we showed up and stopped it! We're just regular heroes or somethin'."
"Yeah," agreed Harold as he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. "We should get some kinda reward for this."
Rhonda, breathing heavily, growled "Just. Go."
"Okie doke then. We better take you with us, Curly, so you dont try anything else on Miss Rhonda."
Curly walked towards the door. He didn't look, but he spoke to Rhonda, who glared back at him.
"It was nice knowing you, Rhonda. Forget about the letters. Present's on the table. Throw it away if you want to."
"Don't worry, I will."
He looked up, the heartbreak evident in his eyes. Upon seeing this, her eyes softened, but her expression remained stiff as ever.
"C'mon Curly, Rhonda needs to get some rest now. It's been a long day..." Stinky pushed Curly out the door. Turning, Stinky added, "G'night, Miss."
The door closed. Rhonda stared at it for about five seconds. Then, she quietly began to cry. In anger, in humiliation, and a fraction for Curly.
Minutes later, Curly was in his room. On his bed. Sobbing. It was almost indecent, the fact a boy was crying this hard over a girl. But, if you loved someone as much as lonely, crazy little Curly loved Rhonda, maybe you'd understand.
Rhonda, sniffling, sat at her table. The box sat in front of her. She wanted to throw it away. She wanted to burn it. But mostly she wanted to open it.
She did. Inside there was a wooden jewelry box, embellished with a beautiful, Asian design of gold and jade. It was beautiful. She opened it, and it played a hauntingly beautiful, mournful tune. Inside, on soft green velvet, was a thin, delicate gold chain with a round locket. She opened the locket to find a compass. She didn't understand the symbolism, but it was lovely, nonetheless. She began to cry again.
Meanwhile, Curly stopped crying. He went to his mirror, and studied himself determinedly, angrily. He grabbed his dad's electric razor. He buzzed off his bowl cut. He broke his glasses. His optometrist told him he only needed them for another week, his eyes were basically corrected. He was going to be different at his new school. He wasn't going to be Curly. Curly, as far as he was concerned, was dead.