Octopus Lips

Quiet Night In

     My face was hot and I'm sure I had turned as red as a tomato. Rosie was still standing there, on her heels, staring at my me. I could feel her warm breath on my face. The world was spinning in a lackadaisical summery kind of way, despite the chill. I blinked, and water droplets fell off my eyelashes.

     "Wow," I said.

     "Really?" She laughed, "I've never kissed anyone before. It's different then I was expecting."

     I wish she would laugh more often, I wanted to drink in the sound like it was soda pop, "bad?'

     She shrugged, "Nah, just different."

     I smiled slowly, "you... like me?"

     "I would arm-wrestle a crew of diseased pirates for you," she swore, her tone implying she was absolutely serious.

     I snorted, "likewise."

     She smiled lopsidedly and held my had in her own, squeezing it gently, "Don't even let anyone say you're not loved, you hear me? You're loved more than you can possibly know."

     My heart skipped a beat, "th-thank you."

     Rosie smirked at me, "Golly, you're so great."

     "But you're so great too!" I sputtered, blushing, "you have no idea how special you are to me."

     She smiled, eyes flicking downward to her feet. You could see all of her teeth when she smiled, you could see all of her happiness. God I can't even begin to process how joyful her smiles make me feel, I'm filled with lemon-flavored bubbles whenever she laughs and every time her soft lips pull back into a grin I can feel lightning in my fingertips. 

     "Oh!" She blinked, then reached into her pocket and pulled out an umbrella.

     "Little late for that," I laughed, albeit awkwardly.

     "Let's get out of the rain," she smiled.

     We walked our bikes back to my house, chattering happily. At one-point Rosie reached forward and entwined her cold, damp fingers in mine. She sent my heart racing. It was amazing, I hadn't felt like this in months. I was flying, if I reached up I could touch the sky. We could sip on clouds and stick our feet in the ocean and hold hands and soak in the sun and just... just be happy.

      Rosie was like a completely different person, but one that I recognized. This was the Rosalie that I had met the first day of second grade. That was the girl who pulled me across the playground to show me her rollie pollie collection. She's the one who won the neighborhood bake off at age thirteen. The one who wasn't afraid to her wonderful rough and tumble self, full of love and kindness. That was my Rosie.

      We dried off, Rosie's hair poofed up big time and she had to tie it up in order to see past it. We changed out of out wet clothes and at this point, straight into jammies. Rosie wore a pair of mine that had peaches pattered on them. At one point, my parents finally returned home. I heard them walk through the door as we watched cartoons on the television. It occurred to me right then and there, I could tell them. I could tell them I kissed a girl today, and that I really, really liked her, but I didn't. Something about this wasn't quite right. This relationship, while it felt eons old, was still raw.

     "Hey honey, hello Rosalie," my mom waved as she walked in the room, still dressed up from her business trip.

     "Hi Mrs. Degray," Rosie grinned at her, "can I help with dinner?"

     My mom raised her hands, miming a hallelujah, "We're eating well tonight."

     "Is that Rosalie?" Dad stuck his head in the room, "thank goodness."