Vanilla Kisses, Velvet Shadows

Joey stepped out of the ice cream parlor, the taste of vanilla still fresh on his tongue and the warmth of Madison Ashford’s lips lingering in a place far deeper. The kiss outside had been different from the one inside; longer, more deliberate, like she wanted to leave no doubt that her devotion to him was absolute. This time he had kissed her back.

And, damn, had it felt good.

And then Joey had walked Madison home. Walking a girl home after a date, another new experience to add to the list, was surprisingly enjoyable. He could see how, for some, it could be a nerve-wracking experience. He would normally have spent the entire walk from the ice cream parlour to Madison’s house second guessing everything he said, worrying about what she was thinking, forgetting simple things like what to do with his hands or how to breathe.

But not anymore. While Joey wasn’t crazy about how he’d come into the relationship, at least on Madison’s side it was built on a solid, unshakeable foundation. There was no need to worry because nothing Joey could do would screw things up. As long as his goal was for them to stay together, that was.

Walking to his own house from Madison’s brought Joey back to the school. Standing alone by the bike racks, the cool evening air pressing against his skin, Joey let out a long breath. The excitement of the kisses, the sudden onslaught of affection from a girl who had never even noticed him before, all of it was a lot to take in. He had done it. He had kissed Madison Ashford, the girl of his teenage fantasies. But the sweetness of victory was marred by the darker realization that clung to him like shadows.

He hadn’t earned it.

Whatever was happening to him, this strange, impossible ability to reshape people with his words, had turned Madison into someone who practically worshipped him. She had lost her sharp edges, the confidence that had once made her untouchable. Now, every glance, every word she gave him was drenched in **** adoration. Joey wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

His phone buzzed. Pulling it from his pocket, he saw a text from his mother.

Mom: Come meet me downtown for dinner? 7:30 near my office. I’ll text the address.

Great. Dinner with his mother. Not only was his relationship with his mother normally strained, but Joey was pretty sure that he had accidentally used his power on her the day before, somehow changing her. Maybe it was nothing. He was almost positive he had told her not to be ashamed of him, which would certainly explain her behaviour at dinner. Maybe she wanted to apologize to him for how she's thought about him in the past. If that was the extent of the changes brought about by whatever he was doing, then maybe it would be alright. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling like there was something more, something worse, just out of reach.

On the bus ride downtown, Joey slumped into his seat by the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of neon and shadow. The other passengers seemed locked in their own small universes: a man in a business suit scrolling through emails, a teenager nodding off with his headphones in, an elderly woman knitting something with a color he couldn’t quite describe. Their lives, normal and unremarkable, continued as his spiraled into the surreal.

He wondered what they would think if they knew. If the businessman realized the skinny, awkward kid in the corner could change his entire worldview with a few well-placed words. If the teenager understood that the boy who never made the basketball team had kissed Madison Ashford twice in one afternoon. It was, of course, too fantastical for any of them to imagine on their own. Even if Joey were to tell them, not one would believe him. His knowledge of how the world had changed had given him a truly unique experience, one that, while it had brought Madison into his life in a strangely profound way, also made him feel very alone.

Donna Granger shifted in her chair, adjusting her blazer and smoothing a nonexistent crease in her pencil skirt. The upscale restaurant buzzed with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware against fine china. Sage & Cedar, a fusion of contemporary American and Mediterranean cuisine, had come recommended to her by a client who also had an office downtown. The lighting was warm, hanging above the tables by copper pendant lamps, which gave a sense of intimacy despite being a popular spot that was often, as it was that evening, quite full. She had chosen a quiet table near the back, far from the bar where a cloud of young professionals were enthusiastically mingling.

Every few seconds her eyes flicked to the door, searching for Joey. She had tried to convince herself that it was merely maternal instinct, the natural concern of a mother waiting for her son. The flutter in her stomach, though, betrayed something deeper, more unnerving, something she knew to be unshakably true.

Joey’s words, as they had many times that day, reverberated in her memories.

"Women, especially hot high school girls, don’t want the old-fashioned idea of the ‘perfect’ guy. They want me. I’m the new perfect guy. It’s a proven fact."

She had tried to dismiss it at first, attribute it to teenage arrogance, the bravado of a boy on the cusp of manhood. But the words had nestled into her subconscious, taking root like a seed in fertile soil. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She couldn't stop believing his words. Donna had learned to argue in law school, how to find loopholes and exceptions, but a fact was a fact. Her son was, indeed, the new perfect guy.

"Women like that are drawn to my energy, my charm—look at me! I’m the exact type of guy that makes girls who are popular in high school like that lose their minds."

Her heart raced. Popular girls. She had been one of those once. Cheer captain. Homecoming queen. The girl who had everything. It was as if he had been describing her, as if he had known a secret about herself that she hadn't known, hadn't allowed herself to know. But where did that leave her? Again she tried to imagine her husband, Hank in a flattering manner. Hank, a man whose broad shoulders and square jaw once thrilled her, who had swept her off of her feet when they were younger, who had worked so hard to keep the flame of their affection alive. Hank, who now felt outdated, a relic of an old standard. Hank, with his grating workouts and his protein shakes, no longer fit the mold of what she found attractive.

Joey did.

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass.

"They don't want jocks, the big muscle-bound bros are a thing of the past. I'm the new thing."

"I'm practically irresistible."

Irresistible.

The word sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t just that Joey was charming. It was more. He radiated something she couldn’t quite name, something that pulled at her, tugging at the corners of her carefully constructed life.

The door opened, and Joey stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on her, and Donna felt her breath hitch. He was just her son. Just Joey.

But as he walked toward her, all lanky limbs and awkward mannerisms, her pulse quickened. And deep inside, she knew—knew with a certainty that terrified her—that everything had already begun to unravel.