The One Night Stand

One

It's been two years since we parted, and yet I still think about him at times. I always have this impossible hope that maybe he will come back, maybe we can start over, maybe one day I will have the opportunity to taste those sweet cinnamon lips and be able to look into those eyes that are the colour of milk chocolate. I want to memorize every inch of his body and get to know him in every way possible. I want to have the chance to tell him I'm sorry, and even if just for one day, even if I get to see him for one day, I would like to give him a proper goodbye without the mysterious disappearance I pulled on him that night.

I was a scared little girl who has gotten drunk for the sake to forget, and in the midst of all this, I managed to sleep with a guy who was completely sober and in control of his mind. But for some reason, I remember the night as if the alcohol had slipped off while I was fumbling to take off my clothes, as if everything went clear when I folded myself against his muscular body, as if the yellow liquid never entered my system of body while I pressed my chapped lips to his tender ones.

And now, two months later, after I had woken up in his arms and quietly exited from the unknown bedroom door, I regret the decision. One might say I shouldn't, since he slept with me with a conscious mind and those people are never to be trusted. One might say it's good I left things there, because I will never have to face him again just as long as I never peeked at the face that belonged to those soft, delicate lips. And yet, I memorized all his features, from his tousled blonde hair to his compact body that looked strong enough to break someone's bones.

"Are you thinking about the mystery boy again?" her voice snaps me back. "You are  thinking about him."

"Lilly," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Why do I feel emotions for someone I don't even know?" My voice begs for an answer, and I see her face soften and she drops her phone as she notices my pain.

"You are no longer a virgin because of him, that's why. You want to know more about the guy who you lost your virginity to, because you are a sincere person and you are not a slut." She tries to state the truth as softly as she can manage, but the truth isn't usually white and fluffy. "Also, you should maybe consider taking your notebook out. It's good to show some respect on the first day of school you know, gets you closing to sucking up to the teacher without having to literally suck anything." A smirk appears on her face.

I roll my eyes and say nothing about it. Instead, I take out one of the four notebooks I keep in my black and white Jansport backpack and turn to a fresh page. But before I can reach over for a pencil, Lilly stops me.

"Do I look all right?" She asks, trying to sound casual. "I want to look my best today."

I look over my friend's outfit she picked out a month before. Her auburn hair is done up into a half bun, with the hair resting on her shoulders curled. She wears a simple white tank with a black dream catcher necklace and a black and white cardigan, and her high waisted jeans are cut off at right below the knees by leather brown boots. She dresses to impress.

"Looks like someone will be sucking up more than usual today?" I joke, and she hits me hard with her notebook. "but yes, you look great, as long as your black and white obsession doesn't last long enough for you to become emo."

She rolls her eyes and says, "I'm not obsessed with black and white, it's just easy to pair with."

Just then, more students start to file into the classroom, filling the seats. We came early to take the front seats, just like we always do on the first day of school. But this year, Lilly had announced we were going to be the very first to arrive this year because grade 11 is important and we need as many advantages as available.

I watch as guys and girls walk into the room, looking for their friends, hoping that they will not be the lonely one in the corner this year, and I'm suddenly so grateful for Lilly's mother to be working in this school, for her to have the ability to pull these strings in order for us to be in the same class each year.

I turn to face her, to tell her my thoughts, when suddenly something catches my attention. Someone, to be exact. A boy, sitting in the seat beside Lilly, staring back at me with his chocolate brown eyes.

He cut his blonde hair, is my first thought, then quickly catch myself. You saw him once; I think. You saw him after drinking countless rounds of beer, it might not even be him.

But then he smiles, and the smile brings back so many memories I think I'm spinning, and my head feels heavy with all this information that has abruptly been brought back from that night, from that night when everything changed in the slightest, biggest way possible.

His smile is beautiful.  He is beautiful.