Prompt:  Write about a character’s first kiss. It can be the first kiss ever, or the first time kissing a particular person.

He was born in Wake, North Carolina, and that was his mother’s running joke - When would Jake wake up?

They lived in Windusky now, and had since he was five, but every once in while she’d still have a good laugh about it.  “Jake, we still waitin’ on him to WAKE up!” and she’d whoop out a laugh and tip back her vodka-tonic, grinning ferociously.

Around the corner, picking at the edges of the carpeting, he’d listen to her answer her friends’ whispered questions.

“Why he ain’t talk, really, Shelly?  He just can’t?”

“Girl, you know there ain’t nothing really wrong with him.  He just stubborn.  He’ll wake up someday!  Ha!”  And then she’d chortle and sometimes so would her friends.   When he got tired of listening he would go out back and play with one of the tired dogs that always occupied their yard.

Around 13 he started waking up early, before his mother and his sisters.  He’d pull a jacket over his flannels and walk.  Only a few houses on his street were lit up when he left: an older man who arrived home from work as the night ended, always in heavy boots and overalls, and two other women that reminded him of his mother.  He’d watch them through their windows, drinking coffee, watching the early news.  He’d brush through the lawns, letting dew wet his sneakers, listening to the birds call to one another.

As light broke people started to open their doors, jangle their keys, start their cars and fill the streets with lines of Fords and Chevys.  He’d walk until the kids lined up at the bus stops, yawning, and then he would head home to see his own mother off to work.

“Have a day, baby,” she’d say sleepily, tucking her cash and transfers into her purse before patting him on the cheek.  “See you at three.”

He didn’t count on Kelly. She came at 9:30 one morning, after the schools had started, the buses had left left and his cartoons were about to turn into court TV.  She stood in his doorway, her hands on her hips, chocolate eyes glaring through the screen.  Pink bubble gum oozed out from between her teeth with the pressure of her tongue.

“Why ain’t you at school?” She asked.  “I see you walkin’ in the morning but I ain’t never see you get on a bus.  Your momma know you home?”  A snapping bubble escaped her lips just long enough to be annihilated by her white teeth.  He shrugged and then nodded.

“Huh,” she said, jutting out her chin  “Well, I missed my bus.”  She opened up the screen and leaned her shoulder on the frame.  “I’m Kelly, anyway.  Why don’t you invite me in?”

He led her to the couch and sat, facing Transformers.  Through her eyes he saw the living room:  dusty piles of magazines, his sisters’ hairbrushes and flat irons in front of the hairspray-caked mirror, the heavy drawn curtains.  She tossed her backpack on the floor and sat next to him.

“So what, like you just be here all day?  Watchin’ TV?  Why don’t you go to school?”  She worked her gum for another minute, looking around the room.  “I look for you at school, Wilhelm, but I don’t ever see you.  You kinda cute,” she said, resting her jaw and grinning.  He couldn’t help but smile and shrug.  She jabbed him in the ribs with a pointed finger.  “What, you think I’m gonna kiss you or something?  Cuz you cute?”  He felt his face warm and he looked down.

In one smooth motion she leaned over, lay her cool hand on his cheek and pressed her lips against his.  Then she sat back and eyed him with a smile, procuring her gum from the back of her mouth with her tongue.  “Ha!” she said.  “You funny.”  She stretched her arms above her head and yawned.  “Well, I probably should start walkin’.  I can’t miss the whole day.”

As he watched her walk down the drive away from his house she looked back.  “Maybe I’ll miss my bus again some time and I’ll come see you.  Ha!  Have fun with your TV.”  He stood in the doorway, a half-smile on his face, watching until she was out of site.