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“What do you guys think the best way to kiss is?” Ruby giggles, putting her hand over her mouth to poorly conceal her chuckling.
“Ew, Ruby!” Book exclaims, pushing the other girl to the side.
The girls of the show are currently sitting in the middle of Goiky’s lengthy plains. This is a rare sight, but it still happens once in a lifetime. Girl talk is the key to happiness! That’s what Match says, anyway.
Speaking of, Match says, “Wait, wait. Are we talking, like, whether French kissing or regular kissing is, like, better, or…?”
Pin fakes a gag, almost sticking a finger down her throat, Pillow sighing in disappointment at the other’s hesitancy.
Ruby presses a finger to her chin. “Like… which level of kissing is best? A peck? Ten seconds? French?”
“Woah, what’s bringing this up, Ruby?” Basketball wonders.
“Nothing! Just wondering!”
The girls continue to ramble, except for one. Golf Ball. The short girl sits awkwardly, quietly slapping herself when she feels her cheeks heating up. She fiddles with her tie uncomfortably. She’s never been the kind of girl to ramble about boys or, well, “girly” things, but now she was basically being forced into a conversation about those things.
“What about you, Bossy-Bot?” Pencil smirks.
GB looks up, startled. She coughs and adjusts her glasses, attempting to look calm and collected. Pencil raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never kissed anyone.”
“That kind of thing is a waste of time and, to be frank, gross!”
Book crosses her arms and sighs, “I mean… I’ve never been kissed…”
Ruby perks up. “I hate agreeing with Bozo Brains, but I think most of us haven’t.”
GB bites her lip at the nickname. Pencil rolls her eyes, but then smirks once again when an idea pops into her head. “I guess GB doesn’t care about what’s statistically best.”
GB glares at her. “What?”
“Don’t you want to crack this mystery and test it out? I can, like, see it now!” She spreads her arms apart mystically. “Golf Ball’s Definitive Study of the Art of the Kiss!”
GB stutters as she frantically looks at each girl. Pillow stares off into the distance, smiling blankly. Fanny holds her hoodie over her eyes, obviously uninterested in the conversation. The rest, however, are looking at GB, wondering what she will say to Pencil. Gaty uncomfortably plays with her yellow hair clips, unclipping them and clipping them back. GB listens to the clacks as she thinks about her next words.
It does sound nice, being able to create her own study on such a topic. Perhaps it would prove to people that she isn’t a one-trick pony. But… how would she even do it? She doesn’t want to ask everyone about their experiences (that would be even more disgusting).
There was only one way she could think of that would create the for-sure answer!
“I’ll show you.”
But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t extremely nervous for the experiment, especially with the plan that is forming.
“I’ll show you all Golf Ball’s Definitive Study of the Art of the Kiss, or whatever you called it.”
The circle goes quiet.
Each girl looks at the other. They don’t think she knows what she’s talking about.
GB crosses her arms in triumph, but she’s screaming inside her head as she realizes what the hell she just agreed to out of stubbornness.
Tennis Ball tinkers with a small, electronic device when he hears a clang echo throughout Golf Ball’s Underground Factory. He turns his head around. GB descends the final step of the staircase and her eyes widen when she sees TB. She is visibly sweating and breathes in deeply. TB tilts his head and asks, “Are you okay?”
She coughs, “I’m fine. Just… thinking about my next experiment.”
TB smiles widely. “Oh, what is it?”
However, he frowns when GB rubs her arm awkwardly. She adjusts her glasses. “Golfy, what’s wrong?” TB asks.
“TB, you are the most loyal science partner anyone could ever ask for. And that is why… I must ask you to help me with this experiment.”
“Okay?”
She looks away before shaking her head and quickly rambling, no pauses, “I need you to kiss me in various ways to see which way is most practical!” She mentally facepalms.
TB stares at her, his eyes huge and his mouth wide open. His face reddens with each passing millisecond. He lets go of the trinket in his hand, spinning around in his chair to face her completely. He gulps and stutters, “I… um… I… it… Golfy… um… uh… jeez… I…”
GB begins walking backwards. “Nevermind! Just… just forget I said anything!” She turns around and quickens her pace.
“N-No, wait!”
GB stops, looking down at the floor. TB hesitantly stands up. “I… explain the experiment to me.”
She stays quiet.
“Please?”
GB slowly looks back at him, facing her body to him. She doesn’t look him in the eyes as she explains, “I would… like to conduct a very important and not-at-all-just-to-prove-a-point experiment on… on what kissing…. ‘move’ is best.”
“A-And… what brought this up exactly…?”
“…Those damn FreeSmarters.”
TB gazes at the ground, thinking about what to say. Of course the FreeSmarters were behind this. But then another thought pops into his mind: GB came to him for this experiment. GB wants him to kiss her. Her black, flat Mary Janes come into his view. She places one foot on top of the other, scratching a nonexistent itch. For such cute shoes, the owner is stubborn. She can’t let things like this go.
TB makes his decision (he always knew what this choice was going to be). “I-I’ll do it.”
GB peers back up at him. “What?”
“I said I’ll do it.”
Her glasses fog up. Embarrassed, she takes them off and cleans them with her hand in a rush. She puts them back on and doesn’t even notice that they’re still almost just as dirty. She nods.
A square screen sits in front of the pair, who are sitting on the floor of the factory. Wires hang from it to GB’s head and chest. “Now, this device will calculate the amount of satisfaction I experience when being… y’know.” Despite her usual tone of voice, her forehead is still sweaty. TB nods in understanding, nervously playing with the zipper of his hoodie. She continues, “It’s not often I play the guinea pig in experiments.”
TB speaks up, “Are you sure about this?”
GB sighs. She’s nervous. She’s so nervous. Sure, they’ve hugged before, many times to be exact, but kissing? That is a mile ahead of where they’re at. But she isn’t uncomfortable. This nervousness… it’s excitement. She clears her throat at the realization and looks down. TB gently puts a hand under her chin and makes her look back up. However, when he realizes what he did, he retracts his hand. GB licks her dry lips. “I’m sure.”
She turns the screen on, revealing the word ‘satisfaction’ in bold letters. She explains that a percentage will appear, calculating the amount of satisfaction she is currently experiencing. “As you can see, right now it is at two percent.”
“O-Okay.”
Silence.
A cough.
More silence.
“Should we… get started?”
“Yes! We should! Golf Ball’s Definitive Study of the Art of the Kiss commences now!”
“So… what do I… do?”
GB grabs a clipboard. “I’ve created a list. First, you must… um…” She points at her forehead awkwardly.
TB nods and hesitantly grabs her wrists gently. She stiffens at the contact. He exhales through his nose, reminding himself that this is an experiment and it must be done. So what if you’re kissing your best friend and long-time crush?
He pecks her forehead.
SATISFACTION: 8%
The pair can’t block the smiles that crawl onto their faces. GB mumbles, “Good.”
TB lets out a small laugh. Maybe this won’t be as bad as he thought. GB takes a pen and crosses out ‘forehead’. She writes little notes on the side. “Next is my cheek.”
Oh god this is as bad as he thought his face is so red and he feels like he’s going to explode this is awful but he wants to kiss her look at her she’s so pretty and smart and ohhhh my god he—
“TB?”
He snaps out of it. “Sorry!”
“It’s just… an experiment. Right?”
“…r-right.”
TB’s hands move down from her wrists to her own hands. Instead of stiffening up, she seems to melt into it. Her posture relaxes. And at the sight of this, so does his. He lets go of one of her hands and carefully tilts her head to the side. He pecks her cheek, staying there for one second longer than he needs to.
SATISFACTION: 30%.
Without a word and without looking away from him, she crosses off ‘cheek’ and scrambles words onto it. She lays it down onto her lap, not even bothering to set it back down beside them.
They’re too far gone.
“Next is… ten seconds,” she breathes out.
Welp.
TB presses his lips onto hers. For the sake of the experiment, he manages to count to ten in his head. GB quickly leans into it, wrapping her arms around his neck. When ten seconds are up, TB pulls away.
SATISFACTION: 88%.
GB doesn’t grab her clipboard. Instead, she takes TB’s glasses off. He returns the favor, taking hers off too. They’re so glad they’re both near-sighted. They both lean in, not even caring about the experiment anymore. Their lips connect. TB wraps his arms around her waist as she holds his face with her hands. She wishes her arms were real instead of prosthetic so she could feel him.
GB shifts. They disconnect their lips when the clipboard smacks against the floor. They chuckle before kissing again. The experiment doesn’t matter. FreeSmart can wait.
The screen beeps. They halt their actions and look at the screen.
SATISFACTION: 99%.
“Guess I’m… still not fully… satisfied,” GB says as she catches her breath.
TB knows what to do. And he’s been wanting to do it for a long time.
“I love you, Golfy.”
GB’s eyes widen and her face reaches its darkest shade of red yet.
SATISFACTION: 100%.
TB smiles. GB grins stupidly, burying her head into his chest. She begins to laugh. TB loves her laugh. She snorts and chuckles, a rare event for her. He can’t help himself. He laughs with her. Some may say their laughter is annoying or ugly, but for them, it’s perfect.
“God, TB. I… I have romantic feelings for you too,” she explains, the Golf Ball equivalent of ‘I love you’.
This concludes Golf Ball’s Definitive Study of the Art of the Kiss! Not very definitive. Whatever, she’ll fix the name later.
(She completely forgot about the experiment.)