A thousand Boy Kisses

infinity.”
And I mouthed back, “Forever always.”
* * *
The week passed in a blur.
I’d never cared about time before—whether it went fast or slow. Now I did.
Now I wanted a minute to last an hour, an hour to last a day. But, despite my
silent pleas to whoever the hell was up there, time was rushing by too fast.
Everything was moving too damn fast.
At school, the collective interest at me and Poppy being back together settled
down after a few days. Most people still didn’t get it, but I paid that no mind. In
our little town, I knew that people talked. Most of the gossip was about how and
why we got back together.
I didn’t give a damn about that either.
The doorbell rang as I lay on my bed, and I rolled to stand, grabbing my jacket
off my chair. Poppy was taking me out.
She was taking me out.
This morning when I left her bed, she told me to be ready for ten. She wouldn’t
tell me why, or what we were doing, but I did as she asked.
She knew I would.
As I walked out of my door and down the hallway, I heard the sound of
Poppy’s voice. “Hey, little man, how’re you doing?”
“Good,” Alton replied shyly.
Rounding the corner, I stopped when I saw Poppy crouching down to meet
Alton’s eyes. Alton’s long hair was shielding his face. I watched as he nervously
pushed his hair from his face with his hand … just like I did. Poppy’s words
from last week came crashing into my mind…
He has long hair because he wants to be like you. He imitates your habits, your

---

idiosyncrasies, because he wants to be like you. He wants you to notice him. He
adores you…
I watched my baby brother rock shyly on his feet. I couldn’t help curling my
lip in amusement. He too was quiet, like me. Didn’t really speak unless he was
spoken to first.
“What are you up to today?” Poppy asked him.
“Nothing,” Alton replied sullenly.
Poppy’s smile faded. Alton asked, “Are you going out with Rune again?”
“Yeah, baby,” she replied quietly.
“Does he talk to you now?” Alton asked. And I heard it. I heard the tone of
sadness in his quiet voice, the one that Poppy had told me about.
“Yeah, he does,” Poppy said and, like she did to me, she ran her finger down
his cheek. Alton dipped his head in embarrassment, but I caught a little smirk
through the gaps in his long hair.
Poppy looked up and saw me leaning against the wall, watching intently. She
slowly straightened and I walked forward, reaching for her hand and pulling her
forward for a kiss.
“You ready?” she asked.
I nodded my head, eying her suspiciously. “You still not telling me where
we’re going?”
Poppy pursed her lips and shook her head, teasing me. She took my hand in
hers and led me out the door. “Bye, Alton!” she called over her shoulder.
“Bye, Poppymin,” I heard him say quietly in response. I came to a dead stop as
my pet name for Poppy left his lips. Poppy’s hand went over her mouth, and I
saw her practically melting on the spot.
She stared at me, and in that stare I knew she wanted me to say something to
my brother. Sighing, I turned to Alton and he said, “Bye, Rune.”
Poppy’s hand squeezed mine, urging me to respond. “Bye, Alt,” I replied,
awkwardly. Alton’s head lifted, and a huge smile spread on his lips. All because
I’d said bye.

---

That smile lighting up his face made something tighten in my chest. I led
Poppy down the steps and toward Poppy’s mama’s car. As we reached the car,
Poppy refused to release my hand until I looked up at her. When I did, she tipped
her head to the side and declared, “Rune Kristiansen, I’m real freakin’ proud of
you right now.”
I glanced away, not comfortable with that kind of praise. With a heavy sigh,
Poppy finally released my hand and we climbed into the car. “You going to tell
me where we’re going yet?” I inquired.
“Nope.” Poppy backed the car out of the drive. “Though you’ll guess soon
enough.”
I tuned the radio to Poppy’s usual station, and sat back in my seat. Poppy’s soft
voice began to fill the car, singing along to another pop song I didn’t know. It
wasn’t long before I stopped watching the road and simply watched her. Like
when she played the cello, her dimples deepened as she sang along to her
favorite songs, smiling through the lyrics she loved. Her head swayed and her
body moved in time to the beat.
My chest constricted.
It was a constant battle. Seeing Poppy so carefree and happy filled me with the
brightest of lights, but knowing these moments were limited, finite, running out,
brought only darkness.
Patches of pitch black.
And anger. The ever-present unwound coil of anger that waited to strike.
As if she could see me breaking, Poppy stretched out her hand and laid it on
my lap. When I glanced down, her hand was palm-up, her fingers ready to
intertwine with mine.
I let out a long exhale and slipped my hand through hers. I couldn’t look at her.
I wouldn’t do it to her.
I knew how Poppy felt. Even though cancer was draining her of life, it was the
pain of her family members and those who loved her that was killing her. When
I got quiet, when I got upset, it was the only time her bright green eyes would

---

dim. When I let the anger consume me, I could see the tiredness on her face.
Tired of being the cause of so much hurt.
Keeping her hand tightly in mine, I turned to look out the window. We drove
along the twists and turns out of town. Bringing our joined hands to my mouth, I
pressed kisses to Poppy’s soft skin. When we passed a sign for the coast, the
heaviness lifted from my chest and I turned to Poppy.
She was already smiling.
“You’re taking me to the beach,” I stated.
Poppy nodded her head. “Yep! Your second-favorite place.”
I thought of the cherry blossoms in bloom in the grove. I envisioned us sitting
under our favorite tree. And, unlike me as it was, I sent a prayer that she would
make it that long. Poppy had to see the trees in their full flower.
She simply had to hold on that long.
“I will,” Poppy suddenly whispered. I met her eyes and she squeezed my hand
like she was hearing my silent plea. “I’ll see them. I’m determined.”
The silence stretched out between us. A lump lodged in my throat as I silently
counted the months to when the trees would be in blossom. About four months.
No time at all.
Poppy’s hand had become rigid. When I searched her face, I saw the pain
again. The pain silently telling me that she was hurting, because I was hurting.
Forcing the lump aside, I said, “Then you will. God knows not to stand in your
way when you’re determined.”
And like a switch, her pain faded and pure happiness shone through.
I settled back in my seat, watching the world outside flash by in a blur. I was
lost in my own thoughts when I heard, “Thank you.” It was a tiny sound, barely
a fraction of a whisper. But I closed my eyes, feeling Poppy’s hand relax.
I didn’t respond. She wouldn’t want me to.
Another song began on the radio, and like nothing had even happened, Poppy’s
soft voice filled the car, and it didn’t let up. For the remainder of the journey I
held onto her hand as she sang.

---

Making sure I drank in every note.
When we arrived at the coast, the first thing I saw was the tall, white lighthouse
sitting on the edge of the cliff. The day was warm, the cold snap seemed to have
passed, and the sky was bright.
There was barely a cloud in the sky as the sun sat high, beaming its rays over
the still water. Poppy parked the car and cut the engine. “I agree, it’s my second-
favorite place,” she said.
I nodded, watching the several families scattered around the soft sand. There
were kids playing; seabirds circling, waiting for discarded food. Some adults
were slumped against the dunes reading. Some were relaxing, eyes closed,
lapping up the warmth.
“You remember coming here in the summer?” Poppy asked, joy lacing her soft
voice.
“Ja,” I rasped.
She pointed underneath the pier. “And there, kiss seventy-five.” She turned to
me and laughed at the memory. “We sneaked off from our families to stand
under the pier, just so you could kiss me.” She touched her lips, her eyes
unfocused, lost in thought. “You tasted of salt from the seawater,” she said. “Do
you remember?”
“Ja,” I replied. “We were nine. You wore a yellow bathing suit.”
“Yes!” she said, through a giggle.
Poppy opened the door. She looked back, excitement on her face, and asked,
“Are you ready?”
I got out of the car. The warm breeze blew my hair over my face. Taking a
rubber band from my wrist, I pushed my hair back off my face into a loose bun,
and walked to the trunk to help Poppy with whatever she’d brought.
When I glanced inside the large trunk, I saw she’d brought a picnic basket and
another backpack. I had no idea what she had in that.
I reached forward to take everything from her when she tried to carry it all

---

herself. She released them for me to hold, then she stopped, motionless.
Her stillness forced me to look up. I frowned, seeing her studying me. “What?”
I asked.
“Rune,” she whispered and touched my face with her fingertips. She skirted
them over my cheeks and along my forehead. Finally, a huge smile broke out on
her lips. “I can see your face.”
Lifting onto her tiptoes, Poppy reached up and playfully tapped my hair,
trapped in the bun. “I like this,” she declared. Poppy’s eyes tracked over my face
one more time. Then she sighed. “Rune Erik Kristiansen, do you realize how
utterly beautiful you are?”
I ducked my head. Hands ran down my chest. When I looked up, she added,
“Do you realize how deeply I feel about you?”
I slowly shook my head, needing her to tell me. She placed my hand over her
heart and her hand over mine. I felt its steady beat under my palm, the steady
beat that got faster as my eyes locked on hers. “It’s like music,” she explained.
“When I look at you, when you touch me, when I see your face … when we kiss,
my heart plays a song. It sings that it needs you like I need air. It sings to me that
I adore you. It sings that I’ve found its perfect missing part.”
“Poppymin,” I said softly, and she pressed a finger over my lips.
“Listen, Rune,” she said, and she closed her eyes. I did too. And I heard it. I
heard it as loudly as if it were next to my ear. The steady beats, the rhythm of us.
“When you’re near, my heart doesn’t sigh, it soars,” she whispered, as if she
didn’t want to disturb the sound. “I think hearts beat a rhythm like a song. I
think, that just like music, we’re drawn to a particular melody. I heard your
heart’s song, and yours heard mine.”
I opened my eyes. Poppy stood, her dimples deep as she smiled and swayed to
the beat. When her eyes opened a sweet giggle slipped from her lips. I pushed
forward and crushed our lips together.
Poppy’s hands went to my waist, holding tightly to my t-shirt as I moved my
lips slowly against hers, backing us up until she rested against the car, my chest

---

flush against her body.
I felt the echo of her heartbeat in my chest. Poppy sighed as I slipped my
tongue to slide against hers. Her hands tightened on my waist. When I drew
back, she whispered, “Kiss four hundred and thirty-two. At the beach with my
Rune. My heart almost burst.”
I breathed heavily as I tried to gather myself. Poppy’s cheeks were flushed, and
she was breathing just as hard as me. We stayed that way, simply breathing, until
Poppy pushed off the trunk and placed a kiss on my cheek.
Turning, she lifted the backpack and put it over her shoulder. I went to take it
from her, but she said, “I’m not too weak yet, baby. I can still carry some of the
weight.”
Her words contained a double meaning. I knew she wasn’t just talking about
the bag, but about my heart.
The darkness within me, that she was incessantly trying to fight.
Poppy moved away, allowing me to gather everything else. I followed her to a
secluded spot on the far side of the beach, next to the pier.
When we stopped, I spotted the post where I had kissed her all those years ago.
A strange feeling spread in my chest, and I knew that before we left to return
home, I was going to kiss her there again. Kiss her as a seventeen-year-old.
Another kiss for her jar.
“Is here okay?” Poppy asked.
“Ja,” I replied, placing the things on the sand. Seeing the umbrella, and
concerned that Poppy shouldn’t get too much sun, I quickly planted it in the sand
and opened it to give her some shade.
As soon as the umbrella spread open, and a blanket was on the sand, I nudged
my chin to Poppy, indicating for her to move beneath it. She did, quickly kissing
my hand as she passed.
And my heart didn’t sigh. It soared.
My eyes were drawn to the quietly rolling ocean. Poppy sat down. Closing her
eyes, she inhaled deeply.

---

Watching Poppy embrace nature was like watching an answered prayer. The
joy in her expression seemed limitless, the peace in her spirit humbling.
I lowered myself to the sand. I sat forward, arms draping over my bent legs. I
stared at the sea. I stared at the boats in the distance, wondering where they were
going.
“What adventure do you think they’re on?” Poppy asked, reading my mind.
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.
Poppy rolled her eyes and said, “I think they’re leaving it all behind. I think
they woke up one day and decided there’s more to life. I think they decided—a
couple in love, a boy and a girl—that they wanted to explore the world. They
sold their possessions and bought a boat.” She smiled and lowered her chin,
cradling it in her hands, her elbows resting on her bent knees. “She loves to play
music, and he loves to capture moments on film.”
I shook my head and glanced at her from the side of my eye.
She didn’t seem to care, instead adding, “And the world is good. They’ll travel
to far-off places, create music, art and pictures. And along the way they’ll kiss.
They’ll kiss, they’ll love and they’ll be happy.”
She blinked as the gentle breeze whispered through our shade. When she
looked at me again, she asked, “Doesn’t that sound like the most perfect
adventure?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
Poppy looked at my feet, and shaking her head, shuffled along the blanket until
she was at the end of my legs. I raised an eyebrow in question.
“You have boots on, Rune! It’s a wonderfully sunny day and you have boots
on.” Poppy then set to unzipping my boots, pulling each one off. She rolled my
jeans up to my ankles and nodded her head. “There,” she said proudly. “That’s a
slight improvement.”
Unable not to find the humor in her sitting there so smugly, I reached forward
and pulled her over me, lying down so she lay above me.
“There,” I repeated. “That’s a slight improvement.”

---

Poppy giggled, awarding me a swift kiss. “And now?”
“A huge improvement,” I joked dryly. “A massive, asteroid-sized
improvement.”
Poppy laughed harder. I rolled her over to lie beside me. Her arm stayed over
my waist, and I ran my fingers down her soft exposed skin.
I stared silently at the sky. Poppy was quiet too, until she suddenly said, “It
wasn’t long after you left that I began feeling tired, so tired that I couldn’t get
out of bed.”
I grew still. She was finally telling me. Telling me what happened. Telling me
it all.
“My mama took me to the doctor and they did some tests.” She shook her
head. “To be honest, everyone thought I was acting different because you had
left.” I closed my eyes and inhaled. “I did too,” she added, holding me tighter.
“For the first few days, I could let myself pretend you’d just gone on vacation.
But after weeks began to pass, the void you left within me began to hurt so bad.
My heart was completely broken. On top of that, my muscles ached. I would
sleep too much, unable to find any energy.”
Poppy fell silent. Then she continued. “We ended up having to go to Atlanta
for more tests. We stayed with Aunt DeeDee while they figured out what was
wrong.”
Poppy lifted her head and, with a hand on my cheek, guided my eyes to meet
hers. “I never told you, Rune. I kept up the pretense that I was okay. Because I
couldn’t bear to hurt you more. I could see you weren’t doing real good. Every
time we video-chatted, I could see you getting angrier and angrier at being back
in Oslo. The things you said were just not you.”
“So that visit to your Aunt DeeDee’s,” I cut in, “it was because you were sick.
It wasn’t just a visit like you told me?”
Poppy nodded and I saw the guilt in her green eyes. “I knew you, Rune. And I
saw you were slipping. You were always sullen in attitude. You were always
darker in nature. But when you were with me, you weren’t. I could only imagine

---

what finding out I was sick would do to you.”
Poppy’s head gently fell back to rest on my chest. “It wasn’t long before I
received my diagnosis: advanced Hodgkin lymphoma. It rocked my family. At
first, it rocked me. How could it not?” I held her closer, but Poppy inched back.
“Rune, I know I’ve never looked at the world like everyone else. I have always
lived each day to the fullest. I know I’ve always embraced aspects of the world
no one else does. I think, in some way, it was because I knew I wouldn’t have
the time to experience them like everyone else. I think, deep down, my spirit
knew. Because when the doctor told us I would only have a couple of years,
even with medication and treatment, I was okay.”
Poppy’s eyes began to shine with tears. Mine did too.
“We all stayed in Atlanta; we lived with Aunt DeeDee. Ida and Savannah
started new schools. Daddy traveled for his work. I was home-schooled, or
tutored in hospital. My mama and daddy prayed for a miracle. But I knew there
was none to be had. I was okay. I kept my chin up. The chemo was hard. Losing
my hair was tough.” Poppy blinked, clearing her vision, then confided, “But
cutting you off almost killed me. It was my choice. The blame lies with me. I
just wanted to save you, Rune. Save you from seeing me that way. I saw what it
was doing to my parents and sisters. But you, I could protect. I could give you
what my family didn’t get, life. Freedom. The chance to move on without pain.”
“It didn’t work,” I managed to say.
Poppy lowered her gaze. “I know that now. But believe me, Rune. I thought of
you every single day. I pictured you, prayed for you. Hoped that the darkness I
saw sprouting within you had faded with my absence.”
Poppy rested her chin on my chest once more. “Tell me, Rune. Tell me what
happened to you.”
My jaw clenched, not wanting to let myself feel what I did then. But I could
never say no to my girl. It was impossible. “I was angry,” I said, pushing her hair
from her pretty face. “No one could tell me where you went. Why you cut me
off. My parents wouldn’t get off my back. My pappa pissed me off 24/7. I

---

blamed him for everything. I still do.”
Poppy opened her mouth to speak, but I shook my head. “No,” I bit out.
“Don’t.”
Poppy closed her mouth. I closed my eyes, and forced myself to continue. “I
went to school, but it wasn’t long before I fell in with people just as pissed at the
world as me. It wasn’t long before I began to party. To drink, to smoke—to do
the opposite of anything my pappa told me.”
“Rune,” Poppy said sadly. She didn’t say anything else.
“That became my life. I threw my camera away. Then I packed away
everything that reminded me of you.” I barked out a laugh. “Shame I couldn’t
pull out my heart and pack it away too. Because that prick wouldn’t let me forget
you, no matter how much I tried. And then we returned. Back here. And I saw
you in the hallway and all that anger I still carried in my veins turned into a tidal
wave.”
I rolled onto my side, opened my eyes and ran my hand down Poppy’s face.
“Because you looked so beautiful. Any image I had in my head of what you
would look like at seventeen was blown out of the water. The minute I saw this
brown hair, those big green eyes fixed on mine, I knew that any effort I’d made
over the past two years to push you away was ruined. By one look. Ruined.”
I swallowed. “Then when you told me about…” I trailed off, and Poppy shook
her head.
“No,” she said. “Enough now. You’ve said enough.”
“And you?” I asked. “Why did you come back?”
“Because I was done,” she said with a sigh. “Nothing was working. Each new
treatment made no difference. The oncologist told us straight out: nothing would
work. That was all I needed to make up my mind. I wanted to go home. I wanted
to live out my remaining days at home, on palliative treatment, with those I
loved most.”
Poppy shuffled closer, kissing my cheek, my head and, finally, my mouth.
“And now I have you. As I know now it was meant to be. This is where we were

---

meant to be at this precise moment in time—home.”
I felt a stray tear escape my eye. Poppy quickly brushed it away with her
thumb. She leaned over me, across my chest and said, “I have come to
understand that death, for the sick, is not so hard to endure. For us, eventually,
our pain ends, we go to a better place. But for those left behind, their pain only
magnifies.”
Poppy took my hand and held it to her cheek. “I really believe that tales of loss
don’t always have to be sad or sorrowful. I want mine to be remembered as a
great adventure that I tried to live as best as I possibly could. Because how dare
we waste a single breath? How dare we waste something so precious? Instead,
we should strive for all those precious breaths to be taken in as many precious
moments as we can squeeze into this short time on Earth. That’s the message I
want to leave behind. And what a beautiful legacy to leave for those I love.”
If, as Poppy believed, a heartbeat was a song, then right now, in this moment,
my heart would be singing with pride … of the complete admiration I had for the
girl I loved, at the way she saw life, at the way she tried to make me believe—
make me believe that there could be a life beyond her.
I was sure that wasn’t the case, but I could see that Poppy was determined.
That determination never failed.
“So now you know,” Poppy declared and rested her head on my chest. “Now,
let’s say no more about it. We have our future to explore. We won’t be slaves to
the past.” I closed my eyes, and she pleaded, “Promise me, Rune?”
Finding my voice, I whispered, “I promise.”
I fought back the emotions slicing me inside. I wouldn’t show her any sign that
I was sad. She would see only happiness from me today.
Poppy’s breathing evened out as I stroked her hair. The warm breeze flowed
over us, taking with it the heaviness that had surrounded us.
I let myself begin to drift off, thinking Poppy had too, when she murmured,
“What do you think heaven’s like, Rune?”
I tensed, but Poppy’s hands began to circle over my chest, ridding my body of

---

the heaviness her question brought back.
“I don’t know,” I said. Poppy didn’t offer anything, just stayed exactly where
she was. Shifting slightly to bring her tighter into my arms, I said, “Somewhere
beautiful. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere where I’d see you again.”
I felt Poppy smile against my shirt. “Me too,” she agreed softly and turned to
kiss my chest.
This time I was sure Poppy slept. I looked across the sand and watched as an
old couple sat down near us. Their hands were clasped tightly. Before the
woman could sit, the man spread a blanket on the sand. He kissed her cheek
before helping her to sit down.
A pang of jealousy shot through me. Because we would never have that.
Poppy and I would never grow old together. Never have kids. Never have a
wedding. Nothing. But as I glanced down at Poppy’s thick brown hair and her
delicate hands splayed on my chest, I let myself be grateful that at least I had her
now. I didn’t know what lay ahead. But I had her now.
I’d had her since I was five.
I now realized why I had loved her so hard from being so young—so I had this
time with her. Poppy believed her spirit always knew she’d die young. I was
starting to think that maybe mine did too.
Over an hour passed. Poppy was still sleeping. I gently lifted her from my chest
and sat up. The sun had moved; waves lapped the shore.
Feeling thirsty, I opened the picnic basket and pulled out one of the bottles of
water Poppy had packed. As I drank, my eyes rested on the backpack Poppy had
carried from the trunk.
Wondering what was inside, I hauled it over and gently opened the zipper. At
first all I saw was another black bag. This bag was padded. I pulled it out and my
heart kicked into a sprint when I realized what I was holding.
I sighed and closed my eyes.
I lowered the bag to the blanket and rubbed my hands over my face. When I
lifted my head, I opened my eyes and blankly stared out over the water. I

---

watched the boats in the distance, Poppy’s words filtering into my mind…