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Tori|

When Jade was dating Beck, I witnessed them make out. A lot. She definitely wasn't afraid to grab him by the neck and latch herself to his face in the middle of the hallway. Usually she did so possessively, like she was always making a statement, staking a claim. Back then, I hadn't ever really paid enough attention to the technique she used, the way she kissed him, because I never had a reason to. I never imagined I would be in Beck's place with Jade's lips crushing mine, her hands on my hips, being the object of her possession as opposed to being an outsider looking in.

I've gotta say, it feels awesome being on the receiving end.

Jade's breath is cool against my mouth as she pulls back for a brief breath before collapsing against me again. My hands are on her neck, sliding up to tangle at the base of her head. Black tendrils of hair coil around my fingers. Her hands squeeze either of my hips, a nonverbal request for me to scoot back, so I do, sliding along my mattress until my back and head are propped against the pillows. Before Jade came over, I spent a good hour cleaning my room for no particular reason - I just wanted it to look nice. I had slaved over my bed - straightening the corners, making sure the pillows were arranged according to size and separated by purple or white so no same color touched, smoothing out the wrinkles, which was all for naught, clearly. They're surely disheveled now.

Her tongue - a brilliant creature, let me tell you - slides in almost expectantly, slipping around mine before disappearing again. She tastes strongly of the orange-flavored gum I saw her toss into the trash when she first arrived, bearing a single sunflower. "Because, you know, you're the sun," she had said, blushing and shuffling her feet, and that's when I had tackled her with my mouth and we had yet to separate.

Our one month anniversary was Friday, but I had to go to the dentist after school and Jade and I both had rehearsal Saturday for Hollywood Art's annual Big Talent Show. We decided to wait and celebrate until today, Sunday, because it's always been our day, no matter what.

The time has literally blipped by faster than a few blinks. Our fellow students at school have adjusted to the point that they're no longer staring at us when we hold hands in the hallways or when I plop down in her lap at the lunch table. Robbie has started spending a few days of the week sitting with us, too, dividing his time between us and Beck, who has formed a new group of friends and kept his distance. It's sad, but neither Jade nor I really know what to do about it. He's shut us out. There isn't much we can do.

I know it still bums Jade out sometimes. She didn't just lose her boyfriend two months ago - she lost her best friend, someone she trusted and cared about more than anyone else. She hasn't cried about it since the first week of the break-up, but whenever he does come up, she becomes significantly more sad, so I change the subject pretty quickly. It's not that I want her to forget Beck, necessarily, but I do want her to put him behind her. I just don't know how long that'll take.

Most of my free time is spent with her. We go to Starbucks after school or go for walks around LA, giggling at tourists. Last Sunday, we brought Cat and Andre with us to the beach and spent the afternoon there - I still have the peeling sunburn on my shoulders to show for it - and sometimes we just lay around my house doing nothing special, but we never go to hers. I actually haven't been there since I spent the night all those weeks ago, when we were kind of together and kind of not. Jade says that her mother has been hanging out there a lot more often on purpose, to try and catch her with me, and she doesn't want to have any confrontation. "It's going to happen sooner or later," I try to tell her, but she insists on pushing it as far into the future as possible. Knowing how touchy the mom subject is, I've learned to let it go.

Even though I knew before we were dating that she makes me deliriously happy, I didn't expect to enjoy her company as much as I do. When I'm not with her, I'm anxiously waiting for the next time I do. We text. We call. We leave each other stupid jokes on our Slap pages (which have been altered to our appropriate relationship status - 52 likes!) and slip notes into the gaps of our locker doors. We're in constant communication even if we're not together and it makes my heart sing.

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