The Kissing Booth

A few days later, Jess stood behind the wooden counter of the Delta Delta Delta kissing booth, her arms stiff at her sides. The carnival bustled around her, filled with students laughing, shouting, and enjoying the festivities. A banner above her head proudly displayed "Kisses for Charity! $5 Each!" in bright, bubbly letters. Hannah and Olivia grinned beside her, waving down passing students and encouraging them to donate.

She hadn’t even agreed to rush Tri-Delta—Olivia had signed her up ‘just to meet people,’ and before she could back out, she was penciled into the kissing booth like it was some rite of passage. Jess had wanted to scream. Instead, she’d showed up, already regretting every second of it.

Kevin stood a few feet away, arms crossed, an amused smirk on his face. "Never thought I’d see the day," he mused. "Jason ‘Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em’ Taylor reduced to puckering up for pocket change."

"Shut up, Kevin," Jess muttered, adjusting the collar of her sweater. Her stomach twisted in knots. She felt like she was wearing someone else’s skin—like the entire booth was a joke and she was the punchline. The smile she wore was tight, alien. She hated the way they looked at her—like she was a prize to be won. It was everything she used to do to other people, and now it made her want to disappear.

Hannah leaned over, whispering, "Relax, Jess! It’s just a few harmless pecks on the cheek. And if someone’s cute… well, a little lip action wouldn’t hurt."

Jess gave her a weak smile, but inside, she was screaming. This was humiliating. She had spent her whole life on the other side of something like this—charming, using, and discarding. Now, she was the one on display. She wondered if this was what it had felt like for the girls Jason used to charm. If so, no wonder they’d hated him afterward.

The first customer approached: a shy freshman with oversized glasses and a nervous smile. Jess forced herself to smile back, then quickly kissed his cheek. He turned beet red and practically sprinted away.

Kevin let out a low whistle. "Wow, Jess, you really swept him off his feet."

"I swear to God, Kevin—"

But then the line grew, and Jess found herself caught in a whirlwind of lips meeting cheeks, awkward giggles, and more money being stuffed into the charity jar. Some guys leaned in too eagerly, only to be met with Jess’s expertly timed head turns, resulting in kisses landing safely on her cheek instead of her lips.

And then, he showed up.

Tall, lean, with messy dark hair and an effortless coolness about him, the guy strolled up with the casual confidence of someone who had spent one too many nights playing gigs in dimly lit bars. A bass player, judging by the calloused fingers wrapped around a crumpled five-dollar bill.

"Hey," he said, sliding the bill across the counter. "Guess I gotta support a good cause."

Jess swallowed hard. Something about the way he looked at her—like he actually saw her—made her stomach flip. But she wasn’t about to let Kevin have more teasing material.

"Of course," she said, keeping her voice steady. "One kiss coming up."

She leaned in, aiming for his cheek like all the others, but at the last second, he turned his head ever so slightly. Their lips met in the briefest, softest touch before she pulled away, eyes wide, heart hammering.

For a second, everything went still. The sound of the carnival—the laughter, the music, the shouting—faded into a muffled blur. She blinked. She was still standing there. Still Jess. But her skin felt wrong, like a costume she’d forgotten she was wearing.

Was that her first kiss as Jess?

No—was that her first kiss?

It was barely more than a brush of skin, but it landed like a jolt. Her body tensed, flooded with adrenaline, shame, and something she couldn’t name. A strange mix of panic and longing twisted in her gut. She barely heard Kevin’s voice through the static in her ears.

It wasn’t just the kiss—it was the fact that part of her hadn’t hated it. That terrified her more than anything.

Kevin burst out laughing. “Ohhh, Jess, you got played!”

Her face burned as the bass player grinned. "Sorry," he said, but he didn’t look sorry at all. "Guess I’ll see you around?"

Before she could respond, he walked off into the crowd, leaving her completely stunned.

The rest of the night was a blur. By the time they closed up, Jess had raised the most money at the booth. Olivia and Hannah celebrated, but Jess felt like she had just run a marathon.

—--

Later that night, she found herself at the apartment, knocking softly on Leanna’s door. When Leanna opened it, she took one look at Jess’s expression and sighed. "Rough night?"

Jess flopped onto Leanna’s bed with a groan. "You have no idea."

Leanna sat beside her. "Was it that bad?"

Jess hesitated, then shook her head. "It was… weird. Confusing. Embarrassing. I’ve never felt so out of my element before. It felt like… someone else was kissing him. Like I was watching it happen but couldn’t stop it.”

Leanna studied her. “Did you want to kiss him?”

Jess looked away. “I don’t know. That’s what’s freaking me out.”

Leanna offered a small, understanding smile. “You’re not broken, Jess. You’re just… discovering. It’s messy. It’s supposed to be.” Leanne paused, her voice softening even more. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever felt like they’re borrowing someone else’s skin?”

Jess shook her head gently.

"Welcome to the club."

Jess let out a tired laugh. "Yeah, well… I don’t think I’ll be renewing my membership anytime soon."

Leanna nudged her playfully. "We’ll see about that."

As Jess lay there, staring up at the ceiling, she realized something: the old Jason—the cocky, womanizing athlete—would have never been caught dead feeling this vulnerable. But she wasn’t Jason anymore. But that didn’t mean she knew who Jess really was, either. Maybe figuring that out would take longer than one night.