Never Been Kissed

- SEVENTEEN -

                                                     -•SEVENTEEN•-

My pen scratched against the page as I wrote down the last word.

Funny how you get the incentive to do things when you feel absolutely wretched inside.

I’d found the poetry book I hadn’t written in in weeks and composed a bunch of poems that I was proud of, even though they were written with rage. I guess you could say I was still upset over what happened, but that wouldn’t change anything.

My feelings were hurt. Shot down and walked all over like a mat at the front of a high traffic store. Did he ever think that I might just like him at all? That hanging out with him might sway my feelings for him in any way? No. I was never a girl that someone would willingly be affectionate for. What good would come from a romantic relationship with a whack job? And I wasn’t even as pretty as her. I didn’t even have half of her appeal. Oddly I resented her. Resented her for her pretty face; her big brown doe eyes, petite pink lips, her lustrous skin and even that artificially colored hair. I resented all that she was in essence, just because she’d managed to accomplish a feat I hardly thought was possible for myself.

Beck.

But, I couldn’t blame him. I couldn’t manage to get a piece of my broken heart to hate him. I was just that plain girl in the corner after all. The girl that went nuts. The girl that kept to herself. And I missed that girl. At least she had enough common sense to stay away from things that would hurt her in the end. She was smart.

Once again, I felt the tears before they really registered within me.

I didn’t understand why this was happening so much lately. I never cried. I was always stoic, even when inside, I was hurting. I roughly brushed the tear away, hoping that the tell tale traces of water would stop. But that was a thought in vain. Tiny droplets of water dropped onto the blue-lined page, making the inks run together. I didn’t care that my words were all blending together into one fat mess. It was reminiscent of me somehow. Fine for a moment, until tiny things unmade me.

I could feel my shoulders shaking as those tears turned into sobs and a tiny mewl escaped my mouth. Great. Here comes another sob fest. Pretty soon I’d be wailing like a banshee. I guess sitting here in the shade of the peach tree where no one could see me might be a good thing, but as I rocked back and forth on the grass, I just felt pathetic.

“Amber?” a familiar voice called, cutting through my saddened haze. “Hey, are you alright?”

I continued to wretch and sob, my shoulders and lungs aching painfully from the sharp gasps I was taking.

So imagine my surprise when long, warm arms wound around my body and pulled me against someone’s hard chest. And I continued to cry for what seemed like ages, if possible getting worse, until it registered that there was someone holding me, stroking my back with soothing fingers.

I froze for a complete second, leaning away slightly to look up at the Samaritan. I’d managed to cover his white shirt and his tanned neck with a sticky substance (please don’t be snot) and wet tears. I swallowed as my eyes followed the perfect emasculation that was his neck until I met those green eyes, set in a face of perfectly bronzed skin with perfect masculine jaw.

Talen Brian was holding me in his arms.

Oh. My. God.

I sprang backward, wiping away my tears completely before staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. This was way more embarrassing than anything that had ever happened to me. I must look so gross. And I left snot all over his pristine white shirt! He must think I was a complete freak. Who lets their snot get all over a person?