Twelve

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It was a little weird, and he thinks this as he stares at her wall. He's not really sure if it was any different than the first time, but he doesn't want to think about it. She sighs, rolling to her side and gently grabbing his shoulder.

"Hey," she whispers, hoping he'll turn over and look at her. He does, his eyes searching her face for something. He doesn't find it, and he's not sure if it's because he doesn't know what he's looking for, or if it's because it's just not there. His stomach begins to twist. She frowns, looking away. He wants to say something, but he's not sure what, so he just falls on his back and stares at the ceiling. She scoots closer, resting her head on his chest and letting out another sigh.

"What is it?" he asks softly. She stays silent, trying to feel less like she does. Finally, after uncomfortable silence, she sits up, holding the sheet to her chest. He sits up after her, not sure what to do or what's going on. She reaches over the edge of the bed and finds a shirt. His stomach tightens. "Hey," he tries to slow her down, but she stands up and tosses his clothes at him. Letting out a sigh, he begins getting dressed, not sure what else to do. A feeling of shame quickly courses through his body.
"My mom will be home soon," she says quietly, almost inaudible to him. He watches her as she stares out the window blankly. Slowly, he makes his way over to her, hesitating before turning her head and kissing her softly. She wraps her arms around him, burying her head in his shirt.

What just happened?

Grace slumps against her door when he has left and she sobs into her fists.

Why?
She has no idea.

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