False Start (Fiction)

Her name is Stacy Lynn Perkins. She is 15, with long black hair and hazel eyes. She stands about 5’7″, and looks incredible in a one-piece pink sleeper. She is my cousin, and I think I’m in love.

Okay, I had better explain that. Stacy has only been my cousin for 15 days. Uncle Frank and Aunt Jeanette (mom’s sister) just adopted her. I’m not up on all the details, but she had been in foster care for years with no one wanting to make the final commitment. My aunt and uncle are otherwise childless, and decided to look for an older child. They met Stacy and it was an instant match. They had already been through most of the process, so the actual adoption took a very short time.

This weekend the three of them came to visit, arriving close to bedtime on Friday. This was the first time for us actually meeting Stacy. After introductions were made, Dad set up a cot in our guest room for Stacy, and we all went to bed.

Saturday morning about 8 AM, I came out of my room headed for the bathroom. I was already dressed for the day. At almost the same time, Stacy came into the hall from the guest room, wearing that pink sleeper. It wasn’t hard to guess where she was going.

“Good morning, Stacy,” I smiled, “I guess you’re headed for the bathroom.”

“Yes, I am.” She returned my smile but was blushing a little at being caught in her sleeper.

“Okay, you take it first. I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.” She scooted through the door and closed it.

As I waited, I heard sounds from the kitchen and from the guest room. It seemed like my parents were already up and the Perkins were just rising. Uncle Frank stuck his hand in the hallway, and saw me leaning against the wall facing the bathroom door. He pointed toward the door and I nodded, so he ducked back into the guest room.

Later in the day, Stacy and I were in the TV room, sitting together on the sofa watching some program. Our parents were in the family room playing Bridge.


“Yes Mitchell?”

“Have you ever let a boy kiss you?”

“No!” She gave me a sharp look. “Why would you ask me that? Because I was a foster kid? Is that it?”

“No!” I felt myself blushing. “Nothing like that.”

“You’d be surprised what some boys think a girl in foster care will do. Well, that’s not me. I haven’t been on any real dates and I’ve never let a boy kiss me.”

“Please believe me, I would never think anything like that.”

“Well then, why?”

“I wanted to know if you’d let me kiss you.” I knew my cheeks must be bright red. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid way to ask.”

Stacy regarded me solemnly for a long moment. It was clear she was wrestling with several emotions, and I couldn’t guess which ones. Finally, she turned to look at the TV. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I wasn’t ready to trust my interpretation of that answer.


I leaned in and she turned toward me. Our lips touched once briefly, then again and lingered. I leaned back and we smiled at each other.

“That was nice, Stacy.”

“Yes, it was, Mitchell.” She reached up to turn my face toward her and kissed me again, even longer this time.

“Thank you Stacy.” I put my right arm around her shoulders. She snuggled against me.

“You’re welcome Mitchell.” She looked at the TV for a long moment. “When you asked me, I almost told you no.”

“After that horrible beginning, I almost didn’t ask.”

She chuckled and leaned her head against my shoulder. I took her left hand in mine and she covered it with her right hand as well. We watched TV for a couple of hours.

I haven’t the faintest clue what the programs were.


  1. Hi Michael

    I enjoyed this slice of adolescence and the tone of the narrator which tells it. This was engaging from start to finish and very believable. And how true about the insecurity and the profiling, on some people’s part about foster kids, they face extra hurdles toward acceptance and belief n their character. I grew up with very kind neighbors who took in foster kids over the years and one of two of them became my best friend as I was an only child.

    Thanks for sharing,
    my best

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you Wendy. You took this exactly as I intended it; a simple bit of fiction about two young people in a first kiss. In the process, I also purposefully made her a foster child in order to be able to make a statement about some of the false notions other kids (and their parents) believe. I appreciate your comments.


  2. ok, MIchael,

    I’m going to play the devil’s advocate here. First, if this is a true story, I’m curious if you ran it by her new parents before you posted it.

    There are so many triggers within it that set off bells and alarms. For instance, if it were a familial kiss, why would it matter if she had ever been kissed by a boy? That question gives it a sense of initiation, which makes it inappropriate whether it’s fact or fiction.

    I am assuming it is fiction, because you used a fictitious name for yourself. Now, if this is not fiction, it is truly a callous act to protect your good name and not hers….So what does that tell me?

    That says that this article is fiction (posted with no disclaimers…)so what is the purpose?

    Let’s pretend for a moment that it is motivated by a familial love for your new cousin:
    You gave a fifteen year old girl’s full name and description. That makes her prey to any sicko hacker. Kids have been kidnapped and sold into bondage with less information than is given in this article. This makes the Peaceful Pub a target, not just for sickos but for law enforcement as well.

    An excerpt:

    “According to published reports, including one from Carnegie Mellon University, the NYDA’s Office is one of several law enforcement agencies that have used early versions of Memex software over the past year to find and prosecute human traffickers, who coerce or abduct people—typically women and children—for the purposes of exploitation, sexual or otherwise. “Memex”—a combination of the words “memory” and “index” first coined in a 1945 article for The Atlantic—currently includes eight open-source, browser-based search, analysis and data-visualization programs as well as back-end server software that perform complex computations and data analysis.”

    Okay, so I have drawn the conclusion that the article is fiction, and your are dabbling in the art of tantalization using as fifteen year old girl as bait. You know that is not conducive with the values of this site.

    ‘Nuf said.


    Liked by 1 person

    • Sarah, I have added “(Fiction)” to the title. I guess I can take it as a compliment that there was any doubt in your mind that was fiction. Hopefully, any predators or other creeps and freaks will be discouraged.

      A few salient points:
      1. As it says in my profile, I am a quadriplegic. Ergo, this could not possibly be anything I recently did.
      2. Although my profile does not say so, I am an older man (mid 60s). The setting in this story should make it clear that the narrator is a teenager himself.
      3. I have posted at least one true story (Night Race) which was sent in the late 70s, so any story involving me as a teenager would’ve been set in the early 70s.

      I am assuming that you jumped on this more because of the foster child angle made any other reason. Otherwise, I would be seriously offended that you call me down after some of the borderline smut that Craig has posted (such as the one about the “Twin Kiss” diner) which you have complemented and even applauded.

      Here are the basic facts:
      1. All names in this story are fictional. While there may be someone in the world bearing these names, I do not know them and have never met them.
      2. It is story about a boy meeting a girl and being attracted to her.
      3. There is nothing “familial” about his desire to kiss her. It is not an “initiation”.
      4. He chooses an incredibly clumsy way to bring up the subject. This is the one element which might be even remotely autobiographical in that I have never been completely at ease such situations. The truth is the first two girls I ever kissed, kissed me – and without asking.
      5. My main reason for using that approach was to have Stacy’s reaction to what she saw as a possible assumption about her. It was, in fact, pretty close to the whole reason the story was written. Every now and again, there is a purpose in how I write something.


  3. Incidentally, it is one of the liberties of fiction that I can make as complete a description of a person as I like, including a full name and the names of relatives. None of it means anything and no hacker can learn anything. In this story, any resemblance to any persons living, dead, or undead is purely coincidental.

    In fact, the only Perkins I’ve ever heard about is Marlon Perkins, the host of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.

    Even if I was posting a true story, I would change names, just so we’re clear on that. It’s my body that’s crippled, not my common sense.


  4. A charming story of the innocence and awkwardness of youth, I would describe it as. I remember my own youth, and the naive embarrassing things I did, but now, it’s with a kind of nostalgia.

    I assumed it was fiction, but as a side note, my father managed a publishing company: Cleveland Westerns, with the standard “Any resemblance…” disclaimer you quoted at the start of every story.

    However, the staff, writers and artists, produced one paperback which featured everyone from the company: their real names, accurate likenesses in the cover art, and aspects of their real lives. My father was the town sheriff, and my mother (who was an editor there in real life) was a dancing girl, along with wives of the authors. The authors used pen names, and I doubt that many people know this. So much for the disclaimer, but I have a copy and I treasure it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Steve. A lot of things are nostalgic now, that at the time were simply downright embarrassing. I remember in my last year in college, a girl I knew told me that when we were freshmen together she had dropped all sorts of hints that she wanted to go out with me. I had to admit that I was so clueless I never picked up on any of them.

      I picked up that disclaimer from a TV show which had regular undead characters.

      That’s interesting about your father’s publishing company. I’m a little surprised he let them go ahead with real names, but apparently it worked out okay.

      Liked by 1 person

      • With Cleveland Westerns, I remember dinner parties when I was kid, The authors and artists were real characters, and my father was good mates with them all. Everyone thought it was a hoot.

        Liked by 1 person

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