I lay in my bed for hours that afternoon- the one that occurs shortly after Anson secretly leaves the house in soaking wet clothes.My body is utterly paralyzed by a force that was, before this night, previously unknown to me. I tell myself that all girls must feel this way after their first kiss.
I wonder if mine was more or less special than normal people's.
I break down the components of my new state:
1) nervousness.
I'm nervous about seeing Anson again after the moment we shared.
2) confusion.
What does this mean for me now?
3) pure bliss.
I kissed Anson fischart- no- he kissed me. I have many reasons to be overjoyed for that.I hear a knock at my bedroom door, and I stir for the first time in hours. "Come in." I call.
It creaks open, and Bryn's head appears in the space. She has a sly smile on her face. I frown.
What's that look about?
I raise a brow, and she spills her guts.
"Where did you hide him?"
"Hide who?" I roll my eyes impatiently.
Bryn stands up taller and squints at me from across the room. "You know," she says, "Anson. I saw his gorgeous camaro in the driveway when I got home. Now the car's gone."
The camaro!
My face flushes red and I sigh. "I forgot that his car was parked out there." I admit.
Bryn rolls her eyes. "Why is it such a big secret that he came over?"
I hiss at her. "It's not!"
"You're acting like it is."
"Get out of my room." I demand, and Bryn huffs, but wears a complacent smirk. I know to myself that she thinks she has some kind of dirt on me now. As much as I want to tell her about my first kiss, it's not exactly something she knows much about.
I see her disappear and hear the door click shut. I decide to call Fern, someone who does need to hear the news.
She has always had a conflicting opinion about Anson. One second, she approves, the next, she disapproves.
She's still my best friend. I still need to call her.
I watch as my phones dials her. After a moment, I press the object to my ear .
She answers with a calm, unsuspecting 'hello'.
I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut- like I'm trying to keep from being hit by any bad vibes that might come from this impending conversation.
"Anson kissed me." I say as plainly as possible.
The line goes silent, before I hear a shocked gasp. "What?" Is all Fern can seem to manage.
I start to doubt my instincts about calling. Did I already mess up by calling her?
My heartbeat is fast and I try to speak clearly. "Fern, I'm calling you to tell you that Anson Fischart kissed me. My first kiss." I bite my lip. "And it wasn't just a peck."
"Good god, you didn't loose your panties, did you?"
I laugh, calmed down by her semi-playful response. "No. No. All clothes remained- " I break off my sentence.
YOU ARE READING
His Blue ✓
Teen FictionIndie Jasper is a shy, unknown writer. Anson Fischart is the school's pretty boy. Indie is not popular by any means, but Anson's status of quarterback, paired with his sandy blond hair and blue-eyed gaze have him at the top of the school's hierarch...