“You promise you won’t make fun of me or anything?”
He gives me a really look. “Do I ever make fun of you?”
I throw back the look he just gave me. “All the time.”
“But that’s just for fun.” He waves me off. “I don’t mean any of it.”
“Just promise me you won’t tease me, and I’ll do it. In fact, you have to promise not to ever bring it up.” I spit into my hand. “Make a pact on it.”
He considers my proposal for about a half a second then spits into his palm and shakes on it. “Deal.”
As we pull our hands away, I grow nervous because now I have to actually kiss him. And not just kiss him, but kiss my first guy ever.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I double check, wiping my palm on my jeans. “Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I’ll show you.” He’s already leaning in, his intense aqua eyes zeroed in on my lips.
My heart dances like a crazy person in my chest, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. “Micha, I …” I trail off, sucking in a huge breath as his lips touch mine. My fingers tense around the chains and my whole body stiffens while I try to figure out what on earth I’m supposed to be doing. Clearly not just sitting here, frozen.
“Relax,” Micha whispers, putting a small bit of space between our lips.
Thinking the kiss is over, I let out a quiet, relieved breath. But the relief is short lived because, a microsecond later, his head dips forward and his lips brush against mine again. Only, this time, it’s different. This time, he slips his tongue into my mouth.
Oh, my God, his tongue is in my mouth.
Micha Scott’s tongue is in my mouth.
And I just touched my tongue to his.
Before I can even register what’s happening, we’re kissing. And I mean full on French-kissing. It goes on for what feels like minutes, our knees knocking against each other as Micha plays with my hair and continues to kiss me. Unfamiliar feelings prickle inside me, ones I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt before, and that terrifies the living daylights out of me. They make me feel so...
Out of control.
And Micha is supposed to be my stability.
I’m about to pull away because I can’t take the terror hounding inside me anymore when a loud crash echoes from nearby and we both jerk apart, wide-eyed and gasping for air. My cheeks start to burn and even Micha appears embarrassed, which has never happened before—at least, from what I’ve seen.
Seconds later, reality crashes over me.
Oh, my God, I just kissed my best friend.
The silence that follows is painful, and I worry that everything is going to change. Be ruined. He won’t want to be my friend anymore, and if I don’t have him, I have no one.
I wish I never kissed him.
“Well, that was interesting,” Micha remarks, touching his fingers to his lips as he chuckles.
“Interesting, as in bad?” I ask, nervous for unclear reasons.
He swiftly shakes his head. “No way. Not bad at all.” That’s all he says before he runs back and starts swinging again. “So, did you hear that Ethan and Jane are going out?”
Confused by the abrupt subject change, I slowly let the swing crawl forward. “No.”
“Yeah, he told me the other day.” He starts chatting about who’s going out with who, updating me on the latest middle school gossip, but I zone out, my thoughts floating back to the kiss.
It felt so right yet so wrong. So good yet so terrifying. Are things going to change after this? Do I look as awkward as I feel on the inside? What is happening to me? Micha usually calms me down, but right now, being close to him is freaking me out. Although, in a good way, a way I don’t know how to handle.
As my thoughts and emotions start to jumble together, I feel like a huge mess. Finally, I arrive at a conclusion: never again. Never will I kiss Micha again.
Never, ever will I risk our friendship and our beautiful future together again.
Chapter 2
16 years old…
Micha
There’s a certain moment in my life that changed my future forever. It blindsided me, but if I really had been looking to begin with, I would have seen it coming. It started with a simple surfacing of emotion.
My emotions for Ella have gotten way stronger. The thought comes out of nowhere while I sit in the waiting room, waiting for Ella to come out from the emergency area. She fell off the roof only hours earlier and blacked out. For a second, I thought she was dead thanks to my drunk friend Ethan yelling that she was. I seriously about had a fucking heart attack, and in that moment, something changed between us. I thought she was dead and realized I can’t live without her.
I can never lose her. God, it hurts to even think about it.
When she finally walks out into the waiting room with a cast on her arm, another thought strikes me out of nowhere.
My emotions for Ella have gotten so strong I can hardly think straight when I’m near her.
“Are you okay?” I ask, quickly standing as she reaches me. My heart is slamming inside my chest while I scan her entire body for any more injuries.
She tiredly nods. “Yeah, I just broke my arm”—she elevates her arm that’s covered in a cast—“nothing too serious.”
I stare at her, probably for too long. Then I wrap my arms around and pull her in for a too tight hug. “Don’t ever do that shit again.” My voice is hoarse, but I’m too exhausted and worried to give a shit.
She tensely puts her good arm around me and pats me on the back. “Micha, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ve snowboarded off a roof before.” She starts to draw back, but my arms constrict around her.
“I don’t care,” I whisper in her hair. “Promise me you’ll be more careful from now on. And stay off roofs.”
She sighs, relaxing into me. “Yes, voice of reason.”
I pull back enough to look down at her. “Voice of reason?”
She shrugs. “That’s what I call you sometimes when you’re trying to take care of me.”
“I’m always trying to take care of you.” I turn for the door and slip an arm around her back, refusing to let her go. Ever. “Now, come on. Let’s get you home and take care of you some more.”
I was hoping by the next morning my feelings would go back to normal, that Ella and I would go back to normal. But, if anything, it’s gotten worse.
Nothing is ever going to be normal again. At least, not with me.