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    A Bit of Kissing
    A Bit of Kissing
    A Bit of Kissing
    Ebook125 pages2 hours

    A Bit of Kissing

    By Jon Ripslinger

    ()

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    About this ebook

    I’m a male virgin. Eighteen. I’m going to stay a virgin until I fall for a girl I really love. My buddies think I’m weird, odd, stupid, crazy. But I’ve got my reasons. My womanizing dad has inflicted so much pain on my mom, my sister, and me it’s unbelievable. Get this, a seventeen-year-old jerk knocked up my fifteen-year-old sister. Now she’s struggling to meet the needs of her three-month-old son and stay in school. My friends’ lives are in chaos because of sex. Man, celibacy makes sense—no one’s life is disrupted. No one gets hurt. No one’s future is in jeopardy. Celibacy is the only way to go.

    Then I meet blonde, beautiful Penny Nichols. She’s rebounding from an abusive relationship. We both feel abstinence and a bit of kissing are cool. What can go wrong? Well ... in one word—plenty!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherEvernight Teen
    Release dateAug 17, 2018
    ISBN9781773397757
    A Bit of Kissing
    Author

    Jon Ripslinger

    Jon Ripslinger (Davenport, Iowa) is a writer and a former high school English teacher. He was a participant in the University of Iowa Writer's Workshop and is the author of several published short stories and two other novels for young adults.

    Read more from Jon Ripslinger

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      Book preview

      A Bit of Kissing - Jon Ripslinger

      Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

      www.evernightteen.com

      Copyright© 2018 Jon Ripslinger

      ISBN: 978-1-77339-775-7

      Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

      Editor: Audrey Bobak

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

      WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

      This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      DEDICATION

      I dedicate this book to my wife of sixty-two years, Mary Colette Shannon Ripslinger. Thanks for your love and loyalty, for the six kids we raised—Jane, Joe, Jay, Jill, John, and Jeff—and for our fun-filled life together. We’re blessed and still going strong!

      ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

      I’d like to thank publisher Stacey Adderley, acquisition editor Christine Klocek-Lim, and editor Audrey Bobak for making the publication of A Bit of Kissing possible.

      I wrote the original 23,000 word story for Evernight Teen’s recently released anthology Kissed. My story was rejected and accepted in a single sentence. Christine Klocek-Lim wrote that the book was too heavy for the Kissed anthology (my heart sank) but ET would be happy to publish it as a stand-alone, only if I beefed it up to 25,000 words or more. (I jumped out of my chair!) No problem. After I spent two months rewriting, I resubmitted the script. Shortly thereafter a contract arrived via email, and now the novella with its brilliant cover finds itself in the marketplace. Evernight Teen Rocks!

      A BIT OF KISSING

      Jon Ripslinger

      Copyright © 2018

      Chapter One

      Jitters gripped me that chilly, star-littered September night when I opened the door to let Penny Nichols into my house at 8:30 in the evening. I’d never been alone with a girl in the house before. Standing on the porch, Penny smiled as if she’d arrived at an old friend’s house. If she was nervous, she hid it well.

      C’mon in, I said. My mom’s in her bedroom sleeping.

      Penny stepped into the house. I kissed her on the cheek, but her lips slid up to mine for a deep kiss—a sizzler—a kiss that nearly melted our lips off. This bit of kissing we’d been engaging in lately totally turned me on.

      After a final tap of our lips, I said, Mom leaves for work at nine-thirty. She likes to take a nap first.

      Where’s your sister and her baby?

      Isaac’s asleep. Andrea left with some friends. I wanted her to meet you, but she couldn’t wait. She doesn’t get to go out with friends much anymore. She’s too busy with Isaac. I smiled. We’re the babysitters.

      I brought two movies. Really old ones. Penny sniffed. Smells like popcorn.

      I made some for us.

      I didn’t know if Mom would stay in her room until it was time to go to work or if she’d come out to spend some time with Penny and me to get acquainted with her. Mom hadn’t said. All I knew was she didn’t like leaving Penny and me alone while she was gone. She’d told me she didn’t need her son getting into trouble like her daughter.

      First, I showed Penny my aquarium in the computer room. I was totally proud of the fifty-gallon tank I maintained with a dozen tropical fish swimming lazily around. I worked part-time at Pets Plus, a pet and garden center in Northpark Mall, and had access to all the equipment I needed to keep the fish healthy and beautiful. Besides, I loved my job at Pets Plus, and someday I hoped to be a veterinarian.

      Your aquarium’s beautiful! Penny cried. All those fish and plants! It looks like an underwater jungle. What’s that scarlet fish with big silky fins?

      A male betta—a Siamese fighting fish.

      I want an aquarium!

      You’d probably want something smaller, a twenty-gallon tank, maybe, but I can help you out. Just let me know.

      We shuffled back to the living room, and I popped Casablanca into the DVD player while Penny curled herself onto the couch. I brought her a bowl of popcorn and a Coke from the kitchen. Penny loved old-time movies and had told me she had a collection of fifty or more.

      Lots of salt and butter on the popcorn, I said.

      That’s the way I like it.

      I chose the lounge chair by the floor lamp.

      We were a long way into the film—where the main character is drunk at the bar, telling the piano player to Play it again, Sam…—before Mom came out of her bedroom into the living room, dressed for work in a dark-blue pantsuit, looking very professional. She was a nurse who worked at Genesis East Hospital. Third-shift supervisor, 10:00 PM until 7:00 AM.

      I reached from my chair and turned the floor lamp light up a notch.

      Penny stood and smoothed out her jeans.

      Mom, I said, I’d like you to meet my friend Penny Nichols.

      Glasses perched on Mom’s nose. She wore them only when she was at the hospital. Never around the house. Obviously, she wanted a good look at Penny.

      I’m glad to meet you, Mrs. Mitchell, Penny said, and smiled, but shifted back and forth on her feet, for the first time appearing nervous.

      How do you do? Mom lifted her head to get a better look at Penny.

      I’m fine, Penny said softly.

      That was all Mom said.

      Nothing else. Not, I’m glad to meet you, too. It’s nice of you to visit. How are you?

      Mom didn’t even smile. Her expression remained blank.

      I made a stab at conversation. "We’re watching an old-time black-and-white movie, Mom. Casablanca. Penny loves old-time movies. This one’s pretty good. A WWII flick. But it’s not full of battle scenes. Or any violence like that."

      Mom looked at me coolly. WWII was long before my time, Charles.

      The conversation went stone dead.

      I wanted Mom to pick it up with something friendly: What are you doing these days, Penny? Have you seen Charlie’s aquarium? It’s nice that you two are friends.

      A few more words stumbled out of my mouth: Penny’s an artist. Her pictures of birds are really cool. Eagles, cranes, owls. She paints landscapes, too. She’s going to be an art teacher someday.

      That’s nice, Mom said.

      Then she went through the ritual of baby-sitting rules I needed to follow. She did this every time I was left alone with Isaac. Make sure the formula is right. Burp him after he eats. Change his diaper. Make sure he’s sleeping on his back. Check him often. Turn the baby monitor on. Keep it close by and listen to it. If you leave the room, take it with you. Seemed like I’d heard those rules a million times. She could have spared me tonight.

      I’m leaving, Mom finally said. Then she looked at Penny and said, It’s been nice to meet you.

      It’s been nice to meet you, Mrs. Mitchell.

      With that, Mom strolled into the kitchen and out the kitchen door into the garage, the door closing behind her. In a moment, the garage door rattled up, her car started, and it backed out. The door rattled down.

      That was all.

      Mom had practically ignored Penny.

      I had no idea my mom could be so mean.

      I blew out a deep breath. I felt horrible. I felt embarrassed.

      I knew Mom disapproved of my being alone with Penny with no adult supervision, but Penny and I were eighteen-year-old high school seniors—both adults ourselves. We didn’t need supervision. Didn’t need a chaperon.

      I didn’t know what to say or do now. Maybe I was overreacting. You want me to back up the movie so we can see what we missed? I asked.

      Penny shook her head and sank slowly onto the couch. "It’s not like I haven’t seen it before—unless you want to

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