Kissing Frogs

TWELVE || The Stella Incident of 2010

The drive to The Cosmo to meet Stella the following afternoon was never so long and painfully awkward. Mrs. Guerra had no idea her minivan was the valiant steed on which her precious prince rode to his very first date. Sweet, sweaty Hugo sat silently beside me trying to play it cool, but it was obvious to me that he was having heart palpitations.

"You two are awfully quiet," Mrs. Guerra finally broke the silence, her voice lifting a bit at the end like she was hoping for a juicy reveal.

She met my eye in the mirror and I shrugged as casually as I could. I couldn't just let her in on the secret. If anyone knows anything about Italian mothers, it's that they are smothering—and maybe that's everything you need to know about Hugo.

"What movie are you seeing this time?" She probed further.

"It's called It's Kind of a Funny Story," I replied, turning my head to watch a cluster of brown and red leaves twirl in violent circles between the tires of the car next to us.

She smiled. "Oh, a comedy this time."

"No," Hugo replied immediately. "It's an ironic title."

She tried hard not to let her enthusiastic smile falter. "Fun."

You see, Hugo had a very specific taste in movies...and they weren't exactly fun. This always concerned Mrs. Guerra.

Did I think it was an appropriate date movie? Well, it was a toss-up between that and, like, three horror movies so Stella's godawful timing was really to blame, here.

We pulled up to the theater doors in a slow stop and crawled out of the van in a hurry, Mrs. Guerra yelling her love and well wishes in the limited time between us stumbling out the door and it slamming behind Hugo.

Stella was already waiting at the doors, her pale hair whipping in the wind. When she noticed me following in Hugo's long shadow her flushed cheeks deepened and she sent daggers at her date.

I don't know why I thought I'd be able to avoid this part.

"Hey—"

"You brought Ingrid?" Her soft features sharpened into twelve-year-old fury. I shortened my steps, trying to keep my distance.

Hugo looked like he might throw up, but I don't think I'd survive Stella's wrath if I tried to save him. He had to face this dragon alone.

"We'd sort of already planned to come together so, um, she's here. But, she's going to a different movie." He managed in short, broken phrases, smiling sheepishly.

I tried nodding reassuringly, but she was determined to ignore me completely—which, you know, fair enough. I'd hate me too.

"Is she always going to be around?" Annoyance dripped from every word.

There is really nothing worse than someone talking about you as though you're not even there, but the real horror of the whole situation was having to be witness of it. I so badly wanted to disappear in the background and watch behind my fingers in second-hand embarrassment. 

Hugo glanced back at me and seemed to pause, contemplating something. An internal battle between what he wanted to say versus what he should.  Until finally, with a sort of renewed confidence he began to nod.

"You know what...Yeah...She is," he told her, extending to his full height. Despite the chilly wind I found myself unexpectantly filling with warmth. A smile pulled at my lips and I looked down at my feet so Stella couldn't see how happy that made me.

They shared an uncomfortably long period of unwavering eye contact, and I swear with every breath she exhaled fire, until finally she broke away and opened the theater door. Hugo met her there with two short strides and pushed it the rest of the way open for her, holding it even though she refused to acknowledge him further. With a look over his shoulder, he smiled softly and nodded at me to follow.

It's hard to explain, but there was something about the whole thing that flipped a switch in me. Hugo was always special to me, but now I was certainly fond, and I tried hard not to blush as I passed the outstretched arm that held the door for me. I couldn't say the same for poor Stella.

Hugo paid for his and Stella's movie tickets and I plunked down my cash for a separate movie ticket. Normally I would splurge on the overpriced popcorn and soda, but it didn't seem right, so before I went my separate way I handed my extra money to Hugo.

"Get Stella whatever she wants from concessions."

Hugo met my eyes with a look I hadn't seen before. Stella looked at me from over her shoulder, her expression also unreadable but almost grateful.

"I'll stop ruining your date now."

The whole dumb thing was my fault anyway--not the part where I decided to make my best friend a third wheel because I was scared of a sixth grader, but the part where I agreed to Hugo's date for him.

"Thanks," Stella muttered as I passed her to theater three, toward some nightmarish horror movie that ruined my sleeping pattern for at least six months afterward.

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So, sixth grade girls stopped giving me notes to pass to Hugo after the Stella Incident of 2010. He became a dating pariah, put on multiple Do Not Date lists. And, while that would horrify most people, it sat comfortably with Hugo. It seemed to be everything he always wanted.

And after that movie date, while we waited for Mrs. Guerra to pick us up, Hugo and I sat on the bench out front in comfortable silence. Stella had left a good ten minutes ago, and the theater was almost empty now that the cheap matinee tickets were gone.

He slowly leaned into my shoulder, bumping me lightly.

"Guess I didn't have to worry about that kiss, after all." He chuckled, hunched over his lap as though he was capable of shrinking down to my height.

I couldn't help but grin at that, since this had been the definition of disaster. And even though he would never admit it, nobody wants their very first date to end up kissless. So I did what I could to salvage it by leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. As I sat back he grabbed my hand and squeezed it, his eyes lazily watching leaves skirt the edge of his shoes.

I would spend weeks debating whether it was him or the wind that gave me goosebumps then. An unsettling feeling that things were about to change nagged at the corner of my mind.