Lola and the boy next door - an extract from crickets pov

Part title

"I, um, I have something to tell you."
Her eyebrows lift curiously.
"What kind of something?"
"A story," I say.
I shake the nervousness away and focus on the story. "Once upon a time, there was a girl who talked to the moon. And she was mysterious and she was perfect, in the way that girls who talk to moons are. In the house next door there lived a boy. And the boy watched the girl grow more and more perfect, more and more beautiful with each passing year. He watched her watch the moon. And he began to wonder if the moon would help him unravel the mystery of the beautiful girl. So the boy looked into the sky.
"But he couldn't concentrate on the moon. He was too distracted by the stars."
I remove a rubber band from my wrist and use it to hold a twist of her hair.
"Go on" she says.
I'm smiling now. "And it didn't matter how many songs or poems had already been written about them, because whenever he thought about the girl, the stars shone brighter. As if she were the one keeping them illuminated.
"One day, the boy had to move away. He couldn't bring the girl with him, so he brought the stars. When he'd look out the window at night, he would start with one. One star. And the boy would make a wish on it, and the wish would be her name.
"At the sound of her name, a second star would appear. And then he'd wish her name again, and the stars would double into four. And four became eight, and eight became sixteen, and so on, in the greatest mathematical equation the universe had ever seen. And by the time an hour had passed, the sky would be filled with so many stars that it would wake his neighbours. People wondered who turned on the floodlights.
"The boy did. By thinking about the girl"
Her eyes open "Cricket... I'm not that"
I stop styling her hair. "What do you mean?"
"You've built up this idea about me, this ideal, but I'm not that person. I'm not perfect. I'm not worth such a beautiful story."
What is she talking about?
"Lola. You are the story"
"But a story is just that. It isn't the truth."
I return to her hair.
"I know you aren't perfect. But it's a persons imperfections that make them perfect for someone else."
I slide a pin in her hair, I'm finally done. She glances at the doorway, and grabs my hand. I look at it.
She traces her thumb around the star drawn on my hand. I look at her, she knows that every single star I've drawn has been for her.
She pulls me down into her and kisses me. Lola Nolan kisses me, with everything she has. I'm shocked I don't know what to do, do I kiss back? My lips aren't moving. Her head jerks back.  I collapse onto my knees, I can't believe she kissed me. I yank her back to my lips and kiss her back with everything, everything. Passion, urgency, panic. She pulls back gasping for breath. She can't imagine how long I've wanted to do that, how long I've wanted her to do that. My breathing is ragged. She places her hand on my cheeks steadying me, and my cheeks tingle from her touch.
"Is this okay" she whispers. "Are you okay?"
And the words tumble out my mouth before I can stop them. "I love you."
"I didn't say that so you'd say it back"
Please say it back.
"Please don't say it if you don't mean it"
Please say it.
"I can wait"
I can't wait.
She stands up and picks me up too, I forgot I was still on the floor. She places my hand around her waist, she stands on her tiptoes, and rests her fingers on my neck, and she kisses me again. Gently, slowly. I've wanted this for so long. Our hearts beat faster and we have to break apart from breathlessness.
She smiles.
She draws me closer by my tie and whispers into my ear, "Cricket Bell, I have been in love with you my entire life."