Neighbors with the Bad Boy (In Editing And Reconstruction)

Questioning, Kisses, and Wonder

~Kind of edited~

Chapter 15

As my mouth remained pressed against Mike’s, my thoughts—instead of being focused on how soft, yet rough and sweet, yet different the kiss was—were focused on my very first smooch.

It was during the seventh grade, at a friend’s Halloween party. We had been playing Spin the Bottle, boy, girl, boy, girl formation, and I had remembered feeling nervous and scared. It had been my first time playing—my first time even attempting to kiss someone. I hadn’t known where to put my hands, or how to move my mouth, and I had that little voice in the back of my head constantly asking me these annoying, little questions: What if my breath smells? What if my lips aren’t moist enough? What if I’m a bad kisser? But, in the end, it was only my mind messing with me, and I had luckily been put with a nice boy, Caleb Johansen, who too had felt nervous and scared. But just because my kissing partner was nice, doesn’t mean the actual kiss was—in fact, it had been really gross, not to mention sloppy, and as I think of it now, I had even felt a little nauseated.

But as time passed, as my lips gotten used to another pair of lips against mine, and my mouth had gotten familiar with swapping spit, I had actually enjoyed kissing.

Though, unlike most girls my age, I wasn’t a crazy Serial Kisser—although, I could get used to Mike’s kisses.

His warm fingers trailed up my neck and to my cheeks, cupping them, and slowly, yet sadly, we pulled apart. We just stared at one another, lips burning, eyes locked, and the mental urge to kiss one another again—at least I hoped he felt that way, because I sure did.

“What was that?” I whispered hoarsely, the first one to speak.

Mike smirked—not a know-it-all smirk, or an arrogant smirk, or a Kayden smirk, but a cute smirk; a Mike smirk. “Amazing,” he whispered back softly, tucking a caramel lock behind my near, grazing my skin as he did so.

I smiled, though the smile suddenly dropped once a thought popped inside of my head. “Why?” I asked, confused, perplexed.

“Why what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Why’d you kiss me? I thought we were just… friends.”

“Would a friend do that?” he questioned, amused.

“Depends… I mean, if you’d want to be more that friends with them, then yeah,” I said, nodding. “But—this doesn’t make since! I mean, I like you. Really like you. Have for quite a while. But you? I thought you and Lela had a “thing” going. I thought you only thought of me as a friend, as a sister. I just… don’t understand.” I tilted my head to the side, asking with my eyes for him to explain, to help me understand.

He grinned. “I’ve liked you for a while too, El,” he said. “A long while… and I don’t think I’ll ever stop liking you.” His eyes widened for emphasize, and I closed my eyes once feeling his soft, smooth fingers brush against my skin, creating a trail of tingles.

“So what does that make us?” My voice was quiet, breathless, lingering.

Suddenly, his lips were on mine again; but, unlike last time, this kiss was simple, sweet, and short. Once pulling away, he rested his forehead against mine, and whispered, “Whatever you want us to be.” What I wanted us to be? Well, that was an easy question…

“Anything… as long as I am with you,” I whispered back, and then crashed my lips against his.

This feeling I possessed was different. I wasn’t just ecstatic, I was… something else. Something I couldn’t quite understand, nor figure out.