kiss me i'm irish

Young Adam lives in his own stupid teenage world. When will he ever wake up and smell the pimple cream? And what is the truth behind all the lies about his fake irish girlfriend Moose?
Is Moose a real name anyway?


1. having a shower

i began my life at 2:45am in a hospital just outside of Wells in Memphis. i weighed 4.5 and but squeeze into small chairs without a mess, have a beard of pimples and i drink beer although I'm 2 years under age. i have a imaginary girlfriend, Moose who lives in Utah and i refer to her as a 'babe'. My mates ask me why I'm in such a hard long distance relationship and I just reply with, 'we make it work.' Her i lied about her hair being yellow like horse hay and a few other details and my mates just made a bath with their tongues and laughed like blockheads and pestered me for more information. They were so annoying, it was worse then when I wet my jeans in year one and I had to deal with it chafing a rash in my groin. I told them Moose was coming in March for St Patrick's day and they asked me why st. Patrick day and I spat a daub of saliva on the paves and muttered, 'cos she's Irish.' what was I supposed to say? Douglas Catt, a close acquaintance of mine, not considered a friend or friendly for that matter, gave me a solid nudge in the side and whispered with a toothpick sticking out the side of his fish-lips, "have you kissed her before?" 
"Lots of times." 
"how many?"
"Why do you needs ta know?"
"Do you even know how to kiss?"
"Just ask Moose." 
"March, my brother." 
"Move on Douglas, you've got wood tech now, don't you?" Douglas snorted  with immense force and walked off, hands in his pockets, scuffing the heels of his blue converse sneakers. I sat on the picnic bench, chewing on my pencil when Gena Charlie, the cutest girl in school came up to me and whistled. She was the closest thing I had to a friend. And she was rather casual around me. Around Douglas Catt or any other of my mates, she'd puff out her chest and act all might and muscly. 
"That'll give you worms," she laughed. Throwing her elbows onto the table, kicking her leg over another.
"Thanks..." I threw my pencil on the grass. 
"What gave you the idea to make up Moose?"
"She's not made up." 
"Oh yeah she is. Moose? That's not even a name and you don't have a girlfriend. Coz if you did, I'd know 'eh." 
"She lives in..." 
"Utah. I know. Everyone knows. Why'd you have to go make up some girlfriend, Adam? You're not all terrible and ugly that you need an imaginary girlfriend. You know how sad that is. And you know what else is sad? When March comes by and slaps you in the left-side butt cheek and you realise you don't actually have a Moose in your life." 
"Gawd, you're good." 
"When you clear up this Moose thing, I'll hug you. Then and only then."
"You hug me anyway," 
"Did I forget to tell you? Oh yeah, i ain't hugging you no more til you at least fake break up or fake end it with 'moose'. And you said she was irish? What the heck?" 
"Shut up Gena. Please don't tell on me." 
"I won't tell anyone, but you gotta do something Adam. I think your cute. Why don't you believe in yourself for once?" 
"I do believe in myself. And by St. Patrick's day I'll have a girlfriend, you'll see me with her in March."
"Okay Adam, don't get on your high horse, I was only teasing. And where are you going to get a girlfriend?" 
"I don't know, but I'm going to begin my hunt tomorrow after school. I'll give her a nickname Moose and everything will be fine."
"What about her accent from Ireland, idiot?" 
I stroked my naked chin.

"I really should get started, hey?" 

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