The Sound of Water (BoyxBoy)

8

Jacob has a crush on me.

I've had Nazzim's words running through my mind on repeat for the last two weeks.

In that time, I've waited after school for Jacob to finish his training sessions, and cheered at the Winter Regionals with the rest of the soccer boys for the Whole Swim Team (not just Jacob, like I said, school spirit and stuff). And Jacob and I have finished our English presentation.

Jacob has a crush on me.

Except, even though we presented our analysis of Soul Surfer one week ago in English class, Jacob is still coming over on Wednesday nights. And, now, instead of sitting on the far edge of the couch like he used to, he sits right beside me in the middle of the couch. Always with one knee pulled up to his chest that he rests his chin on when we watch a movie.

'Niamh's starting swimming lessons,' I say after a moment, picking at a loose thread on my school shorts, 'Mum and John are really excited.'

'That's cool.'

'Yeah, she starts tonight, that's why no one's home.'

'Okay.'

'Just so you know, and you don't stress that like, they've abandoned me or anything.'

'I didn't think that.'

'Oh.'

My cheeks are hot again, and I can feel Jacob's eyes on me, but I can't stop looking at the graze-scar on Jacob's bare kneecap. I don't know why I'm embarrassed; I never get embarrassed. I'm just feeling like a complete loser because-

I look up.

Jacob has a crush on me.

I think Nazzim was right.

Jacob is kissing me. His lips are on mine. My eyes are open. His are closed. I close my eyes. His lips are softer than I thought. Kissing isn't like I expected it to be. There aren't any fireworks and Jacob doesn't taste like anything. It's a little wet. But.

Oh.

A sigh escapes my mouth when Jacob's hand slips through the hair at the back of my neck, and I lean in tilting my head a little so that I can press my mouth harder against Jacob's.

'Peter?'

Jacob and I rip apart. My stomach is in my throat, I think I'm going to throw up. Jacob is hiding behind his hair, back on the far side of the couch again.

Mum is standing in the doorway, John standing behind her with a sleeping Niamh in his arms. My mouth dries up, mind as void of words as the sahara desert is of water. The pressurised thump of my heartbeat. Consumed by the too-real knowledge that I just kissed Jacob King.

And my Mum saw the entire thing.

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