"Kiss me." He orders, slamming my locker shut. "Is she coming?" I ask, turning my head to look behind me, but he grabs my face and makes me look up at him. "Yes, now kiss me." I do as told, getting on my tippy toes as I lean up to kiss him. He kisses me back slowly, before he pins me against the lockers and deepens the kiss. My eyes widen and I try to push him away. This isn't part of the deal. He pulls away, a full on smirk plastered on his face. "I lied." He confesses, turning around. "She wasn't coming." Then, he walks away.

its funny how sometimes the thing that we love the most can be the thing that kills us