The Wallflower and the Prankster

Chapter Three: Another Guest, Sara

Joshua

I leaned on the doorframe of my bedroom door waiting for Alana to settle down. She was sitting at the edge of my bed, blank face plastered on her mocha complexion. She was like a robot. “You have an awesome arm,” I stated. “I’m still in pain.”

“Sorry about that,” She mumbled, looking at her hands. “You just surprised me with the kiss.” I moved closer towards my room, her voice was barely a whisper. No wonder, I didn’t know who she was—it was like she was barely there.

“I apologize too. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” I gave a nervous laugh, this was seriously awkward. Why was she such a shy girl? I walked to my desk and tugged on the desk’s chair, and spun it around to face her. A poster of ‘Red Hot Chili Pepper’ hung above her on my plain white wall. “But be honest. Was I a good kisser?” I teased. I expected a laugh in return but when she didn’t respond, I sighed. This is impossible.

“It was better than a frog’s kiss.” She bobbed her head. She was actually thinking about it? I scoffed.

“Did you actually kiss a frog?”

She gaped, looking up. She seemed stunned by my question. Did she mean it as a joke? Her dark eyes met mine; clearing her throat she looked around my room. I had a chance to do a quick clean up, when she was downstairs. Happy with my cleaning skills in stuffing clothes in my walk-in closet, I waited for her to speak. “Once in fifth grade.” She closed her eyes as if it was life threating secret.

“That’s so cool. Was it all gooey?” I leaned on my chair, interested in her answer. “Were you hoping for a prince, or something?”

She glared at me for some odd reason before shaking her head. “It wasn’t that bad. Maybe slimy, but not bad, I would have kissed it, if the frog hadn’t turned into a pack-mule.” What? She smiled and said, “That was meant to be a joke but I did kiss a frog and it was really slimy but it seemed like a suitable dare, don’t you think?”

“You did that for a dare?” I asked, raising my brows. That didn’t seem like the quiet girl in front of me. She shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal.” She replied. “Just like our kiss. It was nothing.” I gave a cough, astonished at how easily she brushed off our kiss. Like it was nothing—it is nothing! I told myself. For some reason that annoyed me, I was never taken so lightly before. I either got a good or bad reaction, Alana just brushed me off. I ran my fingers through my hair.

“I was that bad of a kisser?” I said carefully, I didn’t want her to notice the strain in my face, holding back a sarcastic comment. It always unnerved me when I wasn’t taken seriously but what did I expect? A girl yelling at me for stealing her kiss? That’d be more irritating.

“I wouldn’t know. I never kissed anyone except you and the frog.”

“So I was your first kiss?” the annoyance slipped away, and pride that I meant something to her appeared in its presence.

“No, the frog was my first kiss.” She protested. “Besides it doesn’t matter since...second kiss hardly ever matters.” She croaked.

“I guess that means: you are nothing to me.” I found it amusing, watching her correct me. It was unexpectedly adorable. I expected another correction from her but instead she stood up.

“When was I ever something to you,” She muttered, pushing back her hair. Walking past me she left me stranded in my room. It was then when I realised there was more to her, than just a person. She was a girl who was self-assured, even how low her self-esteem might be, and she had something I might never be. She knew where she stood in the world.