Here is one of my favorite sections from Racists, Boys, Buttholes and Old Lady Water Aerobics. Marcus is driving Amy home after going to a movie.

     “Good idea. I’m sorry you had a lot on your mind during the movie today. I hope you still had fun. You’re agreeing to call me, right? I guess that means you weren’t worrying about something between us the whole time.” He was scooting closer and closer to me while he spoke.
     This was it. The mother of all God-holy-awful-fabulous moments. Marcus was going to kiss me. I knew it. It was like in the movies when time slows down and the characters gaze into each other’s eyes. You know it’s coming. It’s preceded by the glorious, heart-pounding, fireworks-popping, moment that they lean in and finally, FINALLY they kiss. It’s that moment during which you always want to yell “kiss her already!” at the tv screen. The wait is almost painful in some movies. But they do, eventually. In the movies they always kiss. You can count on it like I count on my little brother needing a good smack on the arm every couple of days, even if it’s just to remind him that I am older.
     “Yeah. Yes, I’ll call.” My voice was all breathy. Breathe in, Amy! I thought. Don’t puff everything out talking and not suck anything else in! He was so close to me. Oh, yummy boy smell. He must have used cologne. What did I smell like? I used some of my mom’s Channel before I left the house. Hmm… I hoped she wouldn’t smell that on me when I came inside.
     The armrest in the middle of the front seat that can flip up and be an extra, middle seat was down between us. I thought about trying to be kind of sexy and seductive and flipping that arm rest up, sliding across the seat and cozying up close to Marcus right into his arms, but he seriously had, like, his whole upper body leaning on that arm rest. If only I’d thought of the sexy plan sooner. If only I had the guts to act sexy.
      “I had a lot of fun today, Amy,” he said.
      I think I could barf, I thought. Holy crap; this is it. God! My breath! How is my breath? I had Junior Mints at the theater! I don’t think that counts. My mouth is dry. Holy crap, I have a freaking, sandpaper, stinking hot mess going on in my mouth, and Marcus is going to get close to it. He might even put his tongue in that deathtrap! He leaned closer. Did I want him to kiss me? Yes. God, yes! No, no: poop-mouth! He put his arm around me and pulled me in for a hug.
     BLLLUUURRP! God! Freaking, bloody damn leather seats again. I didn’t fart! It was the seat; I swear!
     Huh. His arm was still around me. Marcus was hugging me! How great! How wonderful and perfect! Oh, he smelled so nice—like blueberries, cinnamon and outside. Maybe I smelled ok too! Maybe he knew the fart wasn’t me for real. Since he was just hugging me for now, he couldn’t smell my breath at least. He pulled away and smiled. “Goodnight. I’ll see you Monday.”
      I got out of the car. He hugged me! I’m pretty sure some of his smell stuck to my t-shirt. I wanted to smell the front of it. I could almost feel his arms still around me, one hand near each of my shoulder blades. He had made permanent impact on my skin! I stopped at the front door with my key halfway in the lock. I realized three things: A. I didn’t remember walking up to the front door. Did I shut the car door even? I didn’t smell my t-shirt while he was still in the driveway did I? B. He said we’d gone on two dates! and C. Wait a second, where the heck was my freaking kiss!?