"Yes mom, I'm alright." I say for the hundredth time.
"Are you parked?" She asks through the phone and I roll my eyes, trying not to groan.
"Yes mom." I squeeze February's hand and continue talking to my mom. "I-uh, I took someone with me, her name is February Ashford. Tell the office I had a panic attack and she drove me home." My mom sighs in on the other line and I can feel her smile through the phone.
"I will. Just because I love you. So much. Tell the lovely girl I say hi. Do you like her or something? If you do you should-"
"Mom I got it. Soon okay? Love you too." And with that I hang up, leaning back in my seat and sighing.
"What are we doing now?" February whispers, and I push the lump in my throat down.
"I want to make you happy." I answer her, and she moves her fingers through my hair, touching my jaw.
"But you aren't happy." She whispers to me and I close my eyes so I won't meet her gaze. It isn't pity, it's more of sadness and understanding. I squeeze her hand again, making me feel a little safer.
"I don't know what I am anymore February." I breathe "I don't know what to do anymore."
"Kiss me." She answers and brings herself to me, our lips touching together lightly.
It isn't one of those kisses you'll see at school, their lips smashing all over each other, groping and slobbery. This was much different. Our lips met together like they fit, hers are soft and taste like peaches. Our hands are intertwined, resting in between us. A minute later we pull apart, out of breath. A smile spreads across my lips and I whisper to her,
"You make me happy."
YOU ARE READING
3am
Short Story"It's 3am and all I want is your lips on mine. It's the same as yesterday at 7pm, or Thursday at noon. It's the same as every hour, every minute, every second since I met you." #26 in Short Story.
