Sean's eyes darted around, but honestly, he could not stomach the thought of kissing any of them. Steven was out of the question, and as for Peter, Sean was sure that if he even tried, Peter would lay him out flat. That left his cousin Bob, and then Yoel and Gerald.
Sean propped his face in his hand, torn between a laugh and a sob. "Can I just opt for death instead?"
"No can do," came the reply. "You're the one who wanted to play this game. You can't bail now! How are you going to show your face around Brookville after this?"
Sean could not even fake a smile. "Come on, Noelle, I get it, I messed up. Can't we just call it even? Please pick someone else, I just can't do it!" Kissing any of them felt like the ultimate no-no.
He peeked at Bob, but Bob's glare was scary, so Sean quickly nixed that idea. Then there was Yoel, but that was just as unbearable. Peter and Steven were definite no-gos.
"What if I just stand up and belt out a tune for you, huh?"
"No way!" Noelle said with mock sternness, but she was secretly cracking up inside. She was barely keeping a straight face. Gripping Charles's hand, she squeezed the back of it tightly. Seeing Sean's almost tearful expression, she finally burst into laughter. "Okay, Mr. Smith, if you're not up for a kiss, how about this? Take a bottle from the table and down it. Deal?"
"Noelle, you're something else... talk about loyalty, you're even more of a stickler than Charles. I'm impressed," Sean said, grabbing a bottle with a look of noble sacrifice, like he was about to heroically charge into battle.
Noelle glanced at Sean's dramatics and gave Charles's sleeve a little tug. "We're good now, right?"
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