How About A Kiss? | BLITZDASH

How About A Kiss?

It all started when she was nine, and he was ten.

A friendly competition, it was. They were betting on who'd win the race back to his house.

"If I win, you owe me five bucks," she chirped, flashing Zander a competitive look, who in turn laughed, rolling his emerald eyes.

"Well, if I win, I get a kiss."

Her blue orbs widened, an expression of surprise on her fair face. "A kiss?" She squeaked, her cheeks lightly dusted with a shade of pink.

The taller boy smiled a toothy grin, nodding quickly. "You heard me, filly faker."

Charlie pouted, having even more motivation to win. No way was she kissing him. Not in a thousand years.

"Fine," she replied, standing up straighter and putting on a determined face. "I'm gonna win."

"If you say so," he said, sprinting off before she could even say anything back. He smirked as he heard her loud shouts from behind him, calling him a cheater, and things that shouldn't even be coming out of a nine year old's mouth.

It didn't take that long for her to catch up, though, and the pair were panting as they ran alongside, constantly trying to outrun the other.

Soon enough, Zander's house came into view, and Charlie was muttering curses under her breath.

Filled with energy, he passed the frustrated blonde, bounding onto the lawn and jumping up with triumph. "Ha! I won!"

"You're a cheater!" Charlie bellowed, running onto the grass and pouting. "You got a head start!"

"Even if I didn't, I still would've won," the male responded with a cheeky grin, walking over to the younger girl and leaning down to her height. "How about that kiss, filly faker?"

She frowned, stomping on his foot before walking away, her head high in the air. "In your dreams, colt crudder!"

Three years later

Charlie and Zander were older now, both still very immature, and ridiculously stubborn.

They sat on her front porch, eating ice cream they've bought from an ice cream truck that just drove away.

"Hey filly faker, let's play a game," Zander said with a mischievous smile, tilting his head to look at her.

"What kind of game?" She responded with a quirked brow, curious about his proposition.

His infamous smirk found it's way to his face, and he brought his ice cream cone closer to his mouth, saying, "The first one to finish their ice cream gets a prize that they choose."

Charlie considered his idea, falling silent and absentmindedly licking at the vanilla. "I guess we can," she said, trailing off. "If I win, I get your hat."

"And if I win, I get a kiss."

She rolled her eyes, all too used to this ridiculous request. "Yeah, sure. And no cheating this time, you total-"

"Go!"

He immediately starting biting down on his ice cream, getting a brain freeze not too long after he began.

Charlie frowned, doing the same.

Unfortunately for her, he finished his just seconds before she did.

"I won! You lost, filly faker!"

She scowled, shoving the last bit of her ice cream cone in her mouth, chewing slowly. When she swallowed, she said, "I hate you."