Did sparks fly?

Did I suddenly feel like my world changed irreversibly as my heart fluttered with new found love?

No.

If you were to personally ask me what a Joshua Lachowski kiss felt like, I would much rather have all of my toes cut off before admitting it happened, but if you did, I would have one comment.

Too much tongue.

Yuck, the guy practically vacuumed a girl's face off. Also, he liked to grope, and while some girls were into that, I didn't need a hand sweeping all over my body as if it were washing a car. I realized that I could offer more than one comment and that unsettled me.

At first, the shock of having my first kiss pretty much floored me. I know how cliché: a nerdy girl who's never been kissed. Please hold off on the dramatic gasps.

I came to my senses at the same moment he started to tug at my shirt.

Uh, I don't think so you greedy pervert.

I started to push at his bare shoulders with the sweaty palms of my hands. Huh? When did my palms get this sweaty?

The problem was that all of the pushing I was doing seemed to urge the kinky bastard even more.  I needed to get this loser off of me and fast. We finally reached the bathroom wall. At that moment I felt something poking really hard against my thigh. No, not that.

My chopsticks!

And that is the story about how I, Lilly Fester the Nerd, beat Joshua Lachowski off with a stick. I blinded him for life as the harsh tip of the chopstick protruded into his eye and ended his modeling career forever.

I'm kidding.

But, boy did I commit. If his six-pack were to be considered bubble wrap, I probably popped the entire thing.  Bashing his head with a couple more forceful strokes of my other stick, he finally jumped away from me with a yelp. That would teach him to make out with innocent people!

"Damn, that hurt!" Joshua exclaimed with a slight Brazilian accent that I hadn't noticed before.

Damn right it did. Huffing, I replied, "Good! Who do you think you are disrespecting me like that? I'll show you what 'hurt' is..."

I would have gone at him again if he hadn't retreated further into the cabin with his hands held up in surrender.

"Who the hell are you and why are you assaulting me with a stick," He questioned unsurely, glancing around the room looking for the exit. Too bad I was standing right in front of it.

"Me assaulting you? You know what assaulted me? Your tongue! And don't you dare--" I was cut off by a familiar chuckle.

I could feel Johnny's presence behind me.  The asswipe was enjoying this. I could tell.

"This is too good!  Joshua Lachowski rejected by this," he claimed while pointing a thin finger at me.

"What? She came on to me! Shut your mouth and tell me who the girl is," Joshua said, finally getting annoyed. I realized that he didn't like Johnny almost as much as I didn't. I really did not appreciate sharing a common subject of loathing with the idiot.

"Oh it gets better! This, my little Joshy, is Lilly Fetcher your new manager," Johnny finished his revelation with a dramatic sweep of his hands over my face. I resisted the urge to whack him with one of the chopsticks. I decided to use my new weapon for when he really pissed me off.

At that, Joshua raised a perfect brow and gave me a smirk. He found me amusing did he?

"Ah... the new one," The smirk on his face got even bigger. He even had the nerve to wink seductively at me before he was distracted by Johnny.

"Yes, and I'm sure you can't wait to make her life hell. But, for now, I would get some bandages on those cuts. She got you good pretty boy! I would fully congratulate you Lilly, except I think you just lost your job." He finished with a snicker.

Lost my job?  I started to panic. No one had warned me that I would be sexually attacked. Was it against the rules? I mean, of course it was against my own personal rules, but could they fire me if he was the one who instigated the whole thing?

"B-b-but, why?" My voice held a note of shock and panic.

"Joshua has an underwear shoot first thing the morning we land and the photographer will not appreciate the multiple lacerations on his number one face and body. Unless you get him fixed soon, I don't see your job staying in tack," with one last laugh, Johnny left, leaving me and Joshua alone.

Wincing, I fully took note of the damage I had made. Johnny was right. I really got him good. I was torn between being proud of myself and feeling guilty about the whole thing. How the hell had a small pair of chopsticks done this much damage?

Sighing, I met my dull brown eyes to his bright brown ones. Fine, I could make a fresh start of it all, even if it killed my pride.

I was ready to speak, until I realized that being alone with him made me really nervous. This was the feeling that attractive people made me feel! The ugly twist in your stomach that makes you feel like everything you're about to do and say won't even compare to what the better looking individual can do.

Vaguely noticing that my 'Bitch Mechanism' had finally turned on, I began to speak, "Look if you think you can manage not to shove your sloppy tongue down my throat, I think that we can have a fresh start. Furthermore -" I was sidetracked by the loud boyish laughing that erupted from him after I spoke.

"You liked it!" He said with complete confidence.

I stared at him with narrowed eyes for a full minute so that he could realize how dead wrong he was. I could feel a blush creeping up my face though, so I don't think my message went completely through.

"Fine, fine," he relented. "I can't stop you from lying to yourself, but what are you going to do to keep your job?" He asked this with a sickly innocent tone.  He even wiggled his eyebrows for effect.

Good question. What was I going to do?

Huffing, I replied, "Well, if you could refrain from being immature for five seconds, you could do me a favor and put some bandages on your cuts. Cuts that I'm, well, sort of...sorry for."

I looked down at the off white linoleum floor under me. God, I hated apologizing more than anything else in the world.

"Well, if you want to keep your job you should probably start doing it. You don't expect me to take care of my own cuts do you?" I could tell that he was feigning being distraught.  

All of my remorse evaporated away when I realized what he wanted me to do. I was not getting  a foot close to his chest again. Hell. no.

"Wait, you mean to tell me that you can't handle putting on your own Band-Aids? And here I had begun to question you being brain dead," I said the words bitterly.

"Oh, I can handle it just fine, I want to see if you can," he said. With a wink he walked around me, sliding uncomfortably close by the way, and slipped out of the bathroom.

It took me a full thirty minutes to find the first aid kit. It was clear that the jet had been fully stocked with alcohol, but not enough necessities. With the kit tucked under my arm, I approached Joshua. He was comfortably lounging on one of the seats towards the back.

His arms were raised and crossed behind his head and a pleasant smile was set on his face. Even the red head from earlier had put down her magazine to ogle.

"Go ahead," he comfortably gestured towards his chest. I could feel the entire plane's eyes on me as a bent down and began to clean his cuts. I would do what I had to do to keep this job.

I had never been so royally pissed and humiliated, as when I was forced the clean and heal Lachowski's wounds. Never mind that I had inflicted them myself. I made sure to be extra rough as I wiped some of the blood off of the cuts and gashes.

I then made the mistake of turning and seeing Johnny's smirk as I ripped off the back of one of the band-aids I was about to apply. That did it.

I slapped the first band-aid on, taking extra joy when I noticed Joshua flinch.  I repeated the process until at one point I was practically punching the poor guy.

Don't blame me, I couldn't help it!

An idea flew into my head once I had finally applied the last one.

"Oops, got it in the wrong spot," I said in an extra high voice.

With a smile, I gripped the edge, and without a second thought ripped the thing off in a swift motion.

I got a satisfactory yelp from Joshua and gasp from everyone else on the jet. What now assholes?

I couldn't enjoy my small victory because the lazy flight attendant loudly cleared his throat.

Turning around I caught his last words, "...appears we have some flight difficulty. Please go to your seats and make sure your seatbelts are secured, there is no need for alarm but---"

Yet, I never got to hear what he would say next, because the plane began tip and whobble, and finally to uncontrollably shake.