Jim rolled over and looked at the clock, blinking on the nightstand next to the bed.  2:35, it flashed.  Another damn power outage, he thought.  I've got to get one of those atomic battery powered things so I don't oversleep something actually important.  Oh wait, there is nothing important anymore  Maybe church, but I've got 6 hours before that and, oh hell, might as well get up.

He slunk out of bed and trundled down the stairs, the ever-present creaking of the ancient steps signaling his arrival in the kitchen to no one in particular.  Even old Baxter, the grey-haired tabby he adopted to keep him company when she left was snoozing in the corner.  There were times when he enjoyed the time to himself, but inevitably that would lead to thoughts of her and the time he'd lost with her.  Today was probably going to be a tougher day than most, so he needed to blow off some steam first.  He grabbed his coat, threw on his running shoes and stepped out into a bright autumn morning.

Jogging along Piney Creek Road, the steady crunch of the gravel beneath his shoes was oddly cathartic....for the first time in ages, he felt as though he could think clearly and reflect on the past that had both haunted, yet at the same time fulfilled him beyond his wildest imagination.  He ran further than he had in years, further than he figured his bad knees would allow him, further than his mind had any idea where he was going to.  His legs, as though guided by providence, urged him to the right, down Currant Lane.  The corridor of tall, sagging spruce trees was dank and cool, and his kids would probably kill him if they knew he was risking sickness by coming here but he knew he needed to. 

The unkempt appearance of the dusty roadway made him suspect what he already knew.  Pulling up to catch his breath in front of a dilapidated sign, one side fallen and the other side held up only by a rusted cable, he could barely make out the words LACKAWANNA COUNTY YOUTH CAMP in faded paint.  Stepping over a small fence that was no deterrent for anyone who ignored the "KEEP OUT" signs posted across it, he chuckled at the irony of his thoughts on the place the last time he'd been here.

He stepped off the bus, already parched on a blistering July morning and it wasn't even 10:00 yet.  Maybe my parents decided to check me into Hell and didn't bother to tell me, he wondered as the procession of youths filed past the gates like livestock to their likely slaughter.

He wasn't very excited to be here today to begin with.  His mother had opened the invitation to attend the "14th Annual Joseph A. Scranton Memorial Youth Leadership Camp" and called the director before he could even begin to protest.  Anything with a name that long had to be the epitome of dullness, he reasoned....he racked his brain to come up with as many adjectives as he could to describe the three week seminar in terms that would sway Larissa Halpert's mind....lame, pointless, only the geeks go there (ok, so not only adjectives).  She told him it would look good on his college resume, and dad had agreed so he had no choice. 

Jim's 6th grade teachers constantly implored him to try harder, but what was the point in that when you could get As with minimal effort and then spend the rest of your time figuring out how to rearrange your friends' backpack items to maximize their utter confusion at lunchtime?  He was a bright enough kid, he guessed, but he really didn't enjoy school.  It was a bridge between breakfast and hours spent with his brother Jon and sister Mary playing basketball in the driveway...not much else.  He'd be missing that for three whole weeks in order to hear about the history of American civics or the future of computers as a business tool from some monotous drone who'd probably never told a joke in his entire life.  Oh, how he wished Ms. Davis hadn't recommended him for this.

-----------------------

A week had passed and he had learned exactly nothing.  The high point of the week came when some crazy salesman from a local paper company had interrupted a seminar called "Computers...the Future of Communication" and punched the speaker after he stated that paper would be obsolete within 20 years.  Thankfully their camp counselor separated the two and that guy wouldn't be welcome back anytime soon.

Luckily, he had made a couple friends in his short time...Billy and Tim went to Dunmore Middle School, right across town and he'd actually played against them on the basketball court so they spent their free time shooting hoops and razzing each other as best they could.

Sitting in the dining hall with a group of other devoted hoopsters, Jim's eyes lazily scanned the room, wondering if there was anyone else from his school here that he hadn't met this week.  He lingered on a few faces, wondering if he'd seen him in Geography or her in English, but no one rang a bell. 

He glanced to the front and was startled to see a pair of eyes that seemed to be looking right back into his.  He froze....was she looking at him?  He let his gaze drift up, to her long, flowing red/brown/blonde hair (he didn't know it was possible, but she seemed to cover all the hair colors...best of all worlds, he chuckled), and then down to her creamy, smooth skin and adorable nose and mouth.  He offered a small smile, in case she was actually looking at him, and she responded by tilting her head back and flashing a smile so radiant that he swore it could replace the microwave if he could capture it.  In an instant, he felt a warmth come over him like this was someone he already knew, even though he'd just laid eyes on her.  The moment enveloped him in comfort like the afghan on his grandmother's sofa and he lingered for what felt like minutes before snapping back to consciousness.  She was probably just laughing at a funny joke or something, Halpert.  Don't get your hopes up, he figured.

Turning to Billy and Tim, he said "Woah, who's that up there?"

"Who?" Billy responded. 

"The one in the pink sweater."

"Oh, that's Pam Beesly.  She's an 8th grader at our school," Tim chipped in.  "She's really into art...her paintings won a couple contests we had this year.  She's kinda shy, but I bet she'll have the high school boys all over her when she goes to Scranton Area next year."

"Yeah," was all Jim could muster.

Just then, there was an interruption and the head counselor stepped to the microphone on the stage in front.  "Attention kids...I just wanted to let you know that we'll be posting signup sheets for the activities on Fun Night next weekend when we wrap up camp.  We'd like everyone to sign up to be stationed at one activity for at least an hour, but you can sign up for more if you like.  So make sure you stop by and sign up sometime during the week because unless we get you to volunteer, it will be hard to do smoothly."  He turned and left.

"That's what she said," Jim whispered to the table, causing a fit of giggles to erupt.  "I can't wait to see what kind of lame-o games we're gonna have to play."

------------------------

Jim stopped at the counselor's station on Tuesday night after the group hike.  He glanced at the list....the usual suspects, he noted with a roll of the eyes.  Ring toss, pin the tail on the donkey, bobbing for apples, long jump, limbo, three-legged sack race, blah, blah blah.  One at the bottom of the list caught his eye though.  It seemed like it could be a lawsuit waiting to happen...could they really make someone do that?  He thought for a second and his mind drifted to the past night.  This could be a great opportunity, he thought.  He hastily put the pen to paper and jogged off to get back to Tim and Billy.  He wasn't telling anyone about this...they'd just have to wait and see. 

"Hey Pam, what activity did you sign up to coordinate, and when?  It'd be cool if we could set ours at the same time so we can hang out afterwards."

Pam stuttered.  She'd tried to duck out of this one.  She actually didn't even plan on going to the Fun Night at all.  Social festivities weren't really her thing, and it probably would have just been a bunch of kids buzzing on Pepsi and cotton candy making a mess of the place.  She'd been coming here for three years now and it was great to get the experience and connections to local people of importance but the one time she went to Fun Night, she ended up with a lap full of popcorn and a soda on her head, curtesy of the kid in the Ferris wheel cart above her.  "Oh, um, I don't know, Beth.  I really didn't want to go anyway, so I didn't sign up."

"C'mon Pam, you *have* to go!  Think of all the cute boys that are gonna be there!  Last year Stacy went and there was this guy Eric and he was so cute and he ended up asking if he could call her and they talked and it turned out they lived near each other!  So they met up and he totally kissed her and they go for walks and hold hands and they're so adorable and they're going to get married and make such cute babies..."

"Okay, alright Beth," Pam finally conceded.  I can't imagine I'll ever meet someone so talkative and annoying ever again, she thought.  "So where do I have to go to sign up?"

"Counselor Taylor's office.  Come on, let's go!"  She grabbed Pam by the hand and dragged her out the door before she knew what hit her.  Stepping inside the building, she eyed the list on the door cautiously.  She had to laugh..."Pin the tail on the donkey?  What are we...4 years old?" Beth laughed and scanned the list as well, her eyes widening as she noticed the final submission and the name beside it.  "Oh my God, Pam!" she exclaimed, her hand resting on Pam's shoulder as she stifled both shock and laughter.  "Who put your name next to this one?     

"What?!?!"

"Pam-you get to be at the KISSING BOOTH!!"  By now, Beth was losing it and Pam's face was red from sheer embarrassment.  "You didn't sneak in to sign up on me beforehand, did you?" she giggled.

"No!"

"Hey Pam, what's up?" she heard from behind her as her friends Jackie and Tiffany came through the door.

"Tiff, what the HELL?!?" she exclaimed, trying to keep calm enough not to hit her.  Tiff was always the prankster...Saran wrap on the toilet, various condiments in the shower head, whatever she could find...this had to be her doing. 

"Whoa, what's going on?"  Tiffany raised her hands in the air signaling her innocence.  "What did you get yourself into Pam?"

"More like what did YOU get ME into?"  She shoved her playfully, but inside she was still raging.

Jackie had already glanced at the sheet and knew what was going on.  "So, kissing booth, huh?  About time you got yourself some action, Beesly.  Good choice.  Tiff and I are selling hotdogs at the concession stand from 7-8...stop by when you're done swallowing the spit of every guy in the camp."

"Shut up."  Pam swatted her shoulder and the sudden wave of panic seemed to have dissipated, leaving her with a level calm.  "So which of you two did this?"  She pulled off her best squinted eye technique, mocking the interrogators she'd seen on TV. 

"Not me," Jackie said quickly.

"Me either," followed Tiffany.

"Yeah, sure." 

"I swear!" Tiff repeated, this time with more conviction, but the laugh behind it did little to make it seem believable.

"Uh huh.  So how do I get out of this now?  The damn festival is tomorrow, and this is written in ink!"  The worry was beginning to come back to Pam's face.  On the fence about coming at all, now her name had been written on the paper for who knows how long and everyone probably thought she was the camp slut.  Grr-reat.  Truth be told, there was more to it....Pam was heading into high school next year and she was beginning to believe she was the only girl she knew who'd never been kissed.  Sure, she'd had some boys walk her to class, to the bus or even hold her hand after school, but it never went further than that.  She'd begun to think maybe she had bad breath or ugly teeth or maybe she just wasn't very exciting.  How was she supposed to kiss 100 guys when she hadn't even kissed one before?  They'd laugh her out of the booth.

"Well, Pam...looks like you're stuck, unless you want to talk to Counselor Taylor tomorrow and try to wriggle out of it.  I know Katie two years ago had someone put her name down and she went to Counselor Taylor and he rejected it and made her rake up all the trash afterward too, or at least that's what I heard from Sean, who said that..."

"Huh, well, guys, I've gotta go," she quickly blurted and made her way out the door before she got to hear 3 years' worth of gossip.  Tomorrow is going to suck, she thought as she laid her head to her pillow, praying that all this was a bad dream and she'd wake up and find herself doing something normal like the photo booth or even the ice cream stand.  Why does this stuff always happen to me?    

Jim slipped back into consciousness early the next morning.  It was just after 5 and no one else was up yet, despite breakfast being at 7 in the dining hall.  The residences at the camp offered little privacy, with six kids packed into three bunk beds and little space in between.  He needed a more secluded place to plan out what was going to happen later on tonight. 

He made his way down a winding path to a spot he'd seen only once before.  The air was cold and heavy for July, the vapor from his breath keeping watch in front of him as he stepped into an opening in the forest.  His first encounter with it had been on another one of those "team-building hikes"...more like dragging along while the slow kids kept up...when they stopped for a short break on the way back to camp.  It immediately struck him as a place of extreme serenity, like the place where a kid could think free of clutter if he needed to.  He sat down on a rock overhanging a small spring, letting his feet dangle close to the silent water seeping from the earth below.  The tree frogs were still chirping in the distance...Jim had always loved that sound...and he could spot a pair of grey squirrels chattering and scampering from tree to tree in a sort of lover's dance, never more than inches apart yet mystically coordinating their movements so that they never collided.

He wondered if Pam had even been looking at him that night last week in the dining hall.  She could have been looking past me at someone else, or even just staring off into space.  She probably has no idea who I am, and here I can't manage to get her out of my mind.  God, I thought this was supposed to happen when you're old, like 21, not 12.  He pondered if he should plan something out...what to do...what to say, where to be in line (would 1st be too eager?  last be too nonchalant?), if he should talk to her, if he should even bother at all because, let's face it, she was 14 and going to high school and he was just a dorky 12 year old.  She was too good for him...she'd always be too good for him.  Why would she go for whatever he had to say?  Still, the thought of kissing her percolated through him like hot chocolate on a winter day, speeding his heart and giving him the decisive thought on how to best handle this...

He grabbed a sheet of paper from the notebook in his backpack and started writing.  He'd always had a knack for putting his thoughts into writing better than he could say them, and he was pretty certain his senses would be so overwhelmed later tonight that he couldn't speak anyway.  Pretty.  More.  So Right.  Hold You.  He wrote fast and he wrote from the heart, signed it Love, Jim, and tucked it into his pocket for safe keeping.  Not only was he going to kiss her like his life depended on it, but he was going to be the first one...eagerness be damned.

------------------------------

Fun Night started at 8 but Jim wasn't interested in any of the other activities.  He'd picked up his Kissing Booth ticket (#8...same as his basketball jersey number), dropping his dollar into the hand of the attendant before milling around waiting to see who'd show up.  Sandy Gunderson had also signed up but she wasn't what he was there for...so typical, blonde and tanned, blue eyes, enhanced smile...pretty, but not his cup of tea.  He just knew he wanted to be around to get the first spot in line when *she* showed up.  Finally, after an hour of the same dozen guys parading in a circle to kiss Sandy, she stepped out and he watched as Pam was ushered into the booth by two other girls, presumedly not thrilled to be there.

She looked heaven-sent.  Hair down, loose curls hanging over her shoulders and back, her beauty shining through her nervous, crooked smile (no idea why...I bet she's kissed dozens of guys before, he thought), he hoped she wasn't turning to see him staring at her.  The flood light hovering over the gala seemed to shine directly upon her in that booth, as if she were the only diamond in a mountain full of coal; she looked positively stunning.  He had to snap himself out of his reverie and get in line fast if he was going to work his plan. 

Stepping to the booth and handing her his ticket in one smooth motion (got the first part right, at least, he thought), he managed to choke out out his greeting:  "Hi."

------------------------

"Hey," Pam responded, trying her best to push out the nervousness clouding her brain.  She looked him over...he was definitely young (they look younger and younger every year, don't they?), but he was kinda cute.  He had that sort of puppy dog look to him, with long, floppy-looking hair and a warm, friendly smile.  If he were a couple years older, she could actually see herself liking this kid.  Feeling the butterflies and realizing that two years was no big deal...he was so adorable she actually did like this kid, she watched as he stood with his hands in his pockets, glancing into her eyes for a few seconds before she spoke up again.  "We should probably do this, huh?  Wouldn't want to keep the legions behind you in line waiting," she gestured into the darkness.

Jim glanced behind him and noticed that only one person was buying a ticket and he wasn't in line yet...it was just the two of them.  "Yeah, well they'll be flooding the place soon enough."  They both chuckled.

Pam smiled.  "You're sweet.  Now, are you here for a kiss or..."  She winced a little when he looked to the ground, seemingly intimidated.  He has no idea, she thought.  "Come here," she said with a slight wave of her hand, leaning forward.

He stepped closer and leaned in, hoping his obvious inexperience wouldn't completely disgust her.  His left hand shook in his pocket as he tried to steady his right so he wouldn't fall over.  He moved his lips toward hers, waiting for the imminent contact. 

As their lips met, Pam felt his lips stiffen on hers slightly before softening up and delivering a jolt of adrenaline throughout her body.  She felt a charge she'd never felt before...she felt a sense of passion, even if this was just some younger boy who was probably doing this for the first time too (even if he doesn't know it), and a lightness came over her as their lips remained together for what felt like minutes.  Wow, if they're all like this...she thought.  What's happening to me?

Jim couldn't bring himself to break it off...he could have stayed like this all night even if it was mere seconds in real time.  He shifted his right hand up to rest on Pam's cheek...anything to steal that brief extra moment in time when he could feel her, smell her, taste her, breathe her...when she was his.  He was emboldened when he could feel a smile coming to her lips with the gesture.  Maybe, just maybe, this might work, he thought.

Pulling back just briefly and opening his eyes, he could see that she was gazing back into his.  He could feel his heart pounding as she breathily whispered, "What's your name?"  He felt the letter he'd written that morning, his hand having smoothed it over continuously it as a sink for the nervous energy all the time he'd waited for this.  If there was ever a time to go for it, this was it....

"Oh, I'm J-" he started, but he didn't get to finish.  He felt a large hand grab his left shoulder and push him out of the way like a rag doll, careening to the ground.  He heard Pam shriek and exclaim "Oh my God!" as his hands slid across the mud to brace his fall.

"Hey Romeo, why don't you let the rest of us get what we paid for too, huh?," the kid said mockingly down on him, as his friends behind him laughed.  Jim looked at his pants, now covered in mud.  He had to get out of here.  He stood up quickly and wiped his hands down the sides of his pants before dashing off.  He thought he could hear Pam call "wait!" as he ran back to his hall, but how could he ever come back from that?  He was just thankful that tomorrow, this would all be over and he'd never have to face that shame ever again.