yours.

[12] Jasper

I've only ever kissed one person before -- a girl in my primary school back in England. It was more of an experimental kiss than anything, and all it taught me was kissing girls isn't really... for me.

And now, with Miles sitting mere inches from me, what I truly want becomes even clearer to me. I want to kiss him. So badly.

It's a terrifying feeling, really, one that comes out of nowhere and leaves me stunned. I've known him for a week, and not even well, at that. He's still practically a stranger to me. A very attractive one, but a stranger all the same. I can't afford to lose myself in this impulse, especially not so soon. So, I pull away from Miles and stare down at Maybelle like she's the only one here with me.

Miles watches me for a while, confusion obscuring his green gaze. Then he follows my lead and shifts away, leaving a foot of space between us. I breathe a sigh of relief. Good.

He motions to Maybelle. "So... have you named the cat yet?"

I nod. "Maybelle."

He cracks a grin. "I knew it."

"You knew what I'd name her?"

"No, I knew that you'd give her a name eventually."

My mind begins to race. Does this mean he thinks about me? I wonder, excitement brewing. When we're not together, he thinks about me? Then, catching myself, I squash my hopes with a quick shake of my head. This doesn't mean anything. He could be lying, or maybe he just thought of it when the idea of naming Maybelle first came up, when we were... together.

I glance up at him, watching his profile as he stares out at the houses across the street from us. When he looks over at me, I drop my gaze again.

"Hey, do you want to... go somewhere?"

My head snaps up. "What?"

He stretches out his long legs in front of him. "You just sit out here all the time," he starts slowly, "don't you? So why don't we actually go somewhere?"

"Like off the property?"

"Like out of the neighbourhood."

My head swims in the possibility of going somewhere with Miles, just us two. One word flashes in my mind, over and over, like a neon sign.

Date. Date. Date.

But that's ridiculous, isn't it? We're friends, right? Friends don't go on dates. And why would Miles ever want to be with someone like me, anyway? He practically screams straight-boy energy. He probably has a super-loyal, super-hot girlfriend already.

I know I can't let this crush develop into anything deeper. If I do, I'll just keep losing myself in these fantasies, these spirals of hope and confusion and inevitable destruction. I need to stay rooted in reality, now more than ever. And Miles' presence clearly isn't helping with that.

Lifting Maybelle from my lap, I push to my feet and step backward, toward my front door. Miles watches me, his resignation clear on his face. "I... I should go," I mumble, reaching for the door handle. "I'm sure my parents are expecting me to come back in by now."

Miles squints up at the sky above us, cloudless and sunny in the gentle breeze. "But it's only--"

"I'm sorry, Miles. I really need to go." Then, before he can say another word, I'm inside, the door closed firmly behind me.