Chapter Twenty-Seven
I stared up at Jess's big, dark house as I tiptoed around to the backyard. The window to his room was lit, and a spark of excitement filled my chest. I picked up a handful of small rocks and lobbed one at his window. I missed. I threw another one that smacked against the glass. The curtains behind the window fluttered, and soon Jess's sister, Vivian, appeared through the open glass. "You again," she said smugly.
"Don't you know you could break the window?"
"Can you go get Jess?" I said with urgency in my voice.
She curled her lips. "He's not here. He and my mom left for the airport ten minutes ago."
Her words fell on top of me like a load of bricks. I had just barely missed him. I hopelessly stepped backward and turned into the darkness. "He left you a letter, though." I jerked around at this new bit of information. Vivian disappeared into the room then came back with a folded up piece of lined paper in her left hand. "He asked me to give it to you. Here." She dropped the paper out the window, and it fluttered down to my feet. I picked it up and muttered, "Thanks." I left Jess's house and walked down the street to the concrete jungle. I pulled myself up onto our usual wall and unfolded Jess's letter. The sun had been down for a while now, but there was still enough light in the hazy gray sky for me to make out the words on the paper in front of me.
Gem,
There's so much I want to tell you that I have never had the guts to say out loud. First of all, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner that I was leaving for the summer. When I found out I had to leave-it was the worst news I could think of. I didn't want to go to California. I didn't want to have to live with my dad all summer. And I didn't want to leave home. I guess I thought that the longer I went without saying it out loud, without seeing your reaction, the less it would hurt. But I was wrong. Because it's not the saying it out loud that hurts. It's not even your reaction that hurts the most. The thing that hurts the most, that makes it hard to sleep at night, is not being with you.
Second, when you first told me that Trace kissed you I was so mad. Not because you had your first kiss, because you're beautiful and you deserve to have your first kiss with a guy that you like. But because the honest truth of the matter is-I was hoping that I would be your first kiss. And even more truthfully, I've always sort of hoped that I would also be your last kiss.
There, I said it (or wrote it, actually) but it's out there and now that you've read this far into the letter I'm worried that you are disgusted by what I've said and won't ever want to talk to me again. But this is written in pen so I can't erase it now.
And lastly, the past three weeks that I haven't been able to see you and talk to you have been the longest three weeks of my life. So if this letter freaks you out in any way let's just forget about it. We can just be friends. I can handle the rejection, I can keep my true feelings to myself, but I can't stand to not have you in my life.
Your Best Friend (and secretly more), Jess
I took in a deep breath and tried to recover from the gush of confessions. I squeezed the letter between my fingers and scanned it once more with glistening eyes. Had he really written those words? Was it true that he secretly wanted to be more than just my best friend? I brought the letter up to my nose and breathed in its scent. Even the paper smelled like Jess. My heart ached to have him on the wall next to me, his arm around me, his eyes gently watching me. But he was gone, and there was nothing I could do but spend the long, hot summer alone, waiting for him to come home. I folded the letter back up and gently slid it into my jeans pocket. The night was humid, and my clothes and hair were sticking to my warm skin as I made my way off the cement wall. I looked up at the dark sky. Thick gray clouds blocked my view from the stars. It was going to rain. I tried to picture Jess in my mind. What was he doing? What was he thinking? I had no way to get a hold of him. No way to tell him that the kiss with Trace meant nothing. That the only one I ever really wanted was him. I stepped into the street and thought about that day-so long ago-when I thought I heard Jess say that he loved me. Had I heard him correctly?
Had he been feeling this way for that long? I felt a raindrop on my nose. As I wiped it away, a clap of thunder crashed against the sky. The smell of a summer storm filled the air, and a million tiny rain drops began tapping the ground around me. I grasped my ruby in my hand, the ruby that was supposedly the most powerful gem in the world-like me, he had said, and like us. Were we really that strong? Were these feelings we had for each other powerful enough to carry us through the summer? I reached into my pocket and caressed Jess's letter with my fingertips. Would he still feel the same way when he returned? Was I ever going to feel his lips against mine?
The rain was pouring hard now. I shielded my head with both of my arms as I sprinted the rest of the way to my house and across the front lawn. I was nearly to the safety of my front porch when I heard a voice through the sheets of rain.
"Gemma?" I knew the voice perfectly, but still I doubted. It couldn't possibly be him. He had left for the airport. He was probably halfway there by now. How could he possibly be here, in my front yard, saying my name?
I turned to the voice, and though my eyes were blurred by the puddles of water building up around my cheeks, I saw him standing there-not ten feet away from me. He was soaking wet and holding a handful of small rocks. And his face was full of vulnerability.
I was wet through by now, but I didn't notice. I didn't notice the thunder or the wind whipping my wet hair against my neck. The only thing I could see, the only thing that mattered, was Jess in his worn out blue jeans and his dripping wet T-shirt.
"I thought you were gone," I yelled over the roaring sounds of the storm. I pointed at his house behind me.
"I went to your window... "
But there was no time to finish. Because while I was talking and pointing and explaining, Jess was coming toward me, one step at a time, his eyes locked with mine. It happened so quickly, and yet I captured every moment. His warm hands as they cupped my cold, wet cheeks. The curve of his left forearm as I grasped it with one hand while placing the other on his drenched chest. The delicious smell of his breath as he moved in without hesitation. And the creamy taste of his lips as they found their place perfectly between the crevices of my own. The thunder crashed around us. The lightning filled the darkened sky. Water streamed down our cheeks and off our noses and between our lips as we savored this final moment that we had together.
When the time came for us to separate-not because we wanted to but because we absolutely had to Jess opened his eyes with his hands still holding my face and said softly, "Viv called and said you came over."
He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against mine. "It made me hope."
I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled him toward me. I knew he was going to have to leave soon if he was going to make his flight. As hard as it was to let him go before the kiss, now it was a million times harder. But as we stood in the rain, holding onto each other with no intentions of letting go, I had to think of Dad's words from earlier that evening. As devastating as it was going to be to have to release my hold on Jess and let him drive away for the next three months, I knew that this wasn't the end. I knew that this was only the beginning of our story.
Some hours after Jess and I had given each other a hundred final kisses goodbye, I climbed into my soft, warm bed with dry pajamas on and my wet hair pulled into a ponytail. I longed to hear the tapping of a rock at my window. But I knew it wouldn't come. I ached to feel Jess's lips against mine just one more time. But I had to be grateful that I had felt that at all. I pulled my comforter up to my chin and stared out the window at the now clear sky. The summer storm had blown over, and from where I was lying I could see a thousand tiny, sparkling stars. After all that had happened-the big things and the small, the good and the bad-I finally fell asleep to the quiet and perfect memory of not my first, but my second kiss.
THE END!!!!
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My Second kiss
Teen FictionGemma Mitchell is a normal girl who somehow gets herself into abnormally embarrassing circumstances. And while she thinks she's the biggest loser in school because of them, there are a few people in her life who would disagree. One of those people i...