I shrug, not trusting myself to speak. Suddenly the entire scenario feels like something out of a cheesy movie: tiny, blinking lights peppering the ink-black sky, the night breeze sending a fresh wave of goose bumps on my skin, and Jerome’s presence making my senses go haywire.
“Sorry, I don’t have a jacket with me, so I hope this would do.”
What the hell is happening?
I can barely move a muscle, much less breathe, at the closeness we’re sharing. I know we’ve done this several times before, but they were all for show when Richard’s around to mess with. But this time, there’s no Richard, no acting, no nothing. Just me and him, inhaling cigarette smoke while killing time.
I struggle to get some small talk going, but I find myself at a total loss for words. Jerome doesn’t seem to mind the lack of conversation and is just content with us burning our lungs away and…cuddling.
I try to shift my weight to my other side, but he pulls me a bit closer. “We don’t really need to do this. No one’s watching.” I don’t realize I say those words until they’re out of my mouth. I look furtively at Jerome’s expression.
“So you’ll know that I’m not doing this for show either.”
I frown slightly. “Do what?”
And the next thing I know, he’s kissing me. But that’s not what’s shocking at all.
It’s that I kiss him back.
From: In Over Her Head by Anne Plaza
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