I looked over at the TV.  It continued its silent barrage of irradiated light.  Michael Jordan drained a fallaway jumper; the magic pen of the instant replay retraced and predicted the routes of the frozen players.  

     "Give me a kiss darling," he said, smiling at me.  

I watched Jordan drain that jumper again in slow motion as my wrist was pulled towards the bullfrog, drawing me after it like a puppet dancing on its strings. 

I looked at the bald spot on Julies father as I followed my wrist.  It gleamed in the half-light.  he ought to get a wig I thought, as I bent to place the traditional, sterile kiss on his cheek like I had done before, for other family friends. 

But he turned at the last second and my lips met his. 

His open mouth was dry, the saliva sticky. 

In that split second, I felt my bottom lip slide into his mouth. 

The couch giggled insanely, clutching at me through his tongue.  It caressed my lip like a rough, pink tentacle made of warm chicken skin. 

I gagged and yanked my lip away, hearing the ecstatic shouts of the television as it screamed at me. 

     "Thats it folks! Thats it! The Bulls are the World Champions!" 

It was obvious that Marv Albert had thought it was a foregone conclusion from the very start. 

I fled Phil Jacksons beaming face as I bounded up the stairs - two at a time - flinging open Julies door and slamming it shut - sagging heavily against it as I sank to the floor. 

Then I started laughing. 

And the tune ran on through my mind in an endless cycle. 

     "...and no one dared disturb the sound of silence..." 

Julie jumped at the sound of the slamming door. "What's so funny?" she asked me, smiling already and tapping her pencil on her books.  

I was laughing too hard to say anything.  My knees grew weak and I sank into the spongy green carpeting that curled around me.  It felt like my favorite baby blanket.  I lay down and it enfolded me in a soft embrace, quieting me.  I rubbed my face in the carpet and breathed in the scent. It smelled like the socks you find buried in your gym locker on the last day of school, after your last basketball game. 

I shuddered and began pawing at my mouth, rubbing it over and over and over and over. 

     "What the hell is wrong with you?" asked Julie, staring at my hands as they bruised my lips. 
     "Nothing," I said, pulling my hands away with an effort and sitting up. 

Julie came down to sit beside me, placing her arms around my body and her head on my shoulder.  Sighing, I lay down into her lap and she started smoothing down my hair, brushing it away from my cheek and curling it  behind my ear.  It wasnt until I looked up that I saw the small TV on her dresser, showing the post-game show.