A/N: This is not a lemon. I didn't want to make it explicit. My goal was to make it simple and realistic. I'm not a fan of the stories that stick the word "erection" into every paragraph. Remember, they're just awkward teenagers.

A Good Thing

October 2008

We went to a movie. Dinner and a movie. That was my idea. Because I had never planned on going to Shiori's. I called her and told her that myself. I said, "My parents are out of town," and she said, "You're so lucky," and that was that. We're seventeen. We know what that means.

He showed up at the front door just two minutes late. It's cliché, but I don't think I'll ever forget his clothes. Dark blue jeans, Converse high tops, a navy blue T-shirt from soccer. It was warm for October, so I was wearing jeans and a tank top, this dark purple one Shiori picked out a few weeks earlier. It ties a little above the waist, and the neckline is lower than my parents would have liked if they had seen it. I don't like it all that much myself, but I felt it was the most appropriate. It's what the girls in the movies wear.

I told him my parents weren't home. He said he knew. He said it was a good thing.

We ate at a little place down the street that serves Greek food. I had a big gyro with chicken, which I didn't finish. And I had water to drink. A glass of ice water. I was a little bit nervous - I think we both were - but we kept on talking. I couldn't tell you a single thing we talked about, except the previews for the movie we were going to see. It helped us both to forget that my parents weren't home and my brother was away at college.

The movie was a horror flick. He paid for my ticket, and bought me a lemonade and some popcorn to share, and we sat down at the very back of the theatre. I don't think we saw more than the opening credits. Something about an axe. A woman crying. And the very end, which was supposed to be a real shocker. Then the movie was over and the lights came up, and we left like normal, calm people, carrying a lemonade with melted ice and an uneaten popcorn.

We ate the food on the way back to the apartment. He laughed about some stuff having to do with school. I listened and laughed with him. We passed some neighbors on the elevator. I know what they were thinking. The old bespectacled man with the cane: There's that Kamiya girl with her sweetheart. How sweet of him to drop her off at her door. The large woman with the wailing toddler: I hope they don't do anything stupid. I wondered a little if the knot on my shirt was tied too tightly.

The apartment was dark and cool. Green number blinked constantly on the microwave. 11:34. I arranged my heeled shoes carefully beside the door. He threw his into the corner, smiling like nothing was about to happen. And maybe it wasn't. Maybe I was wrong. But he kept giving me a Look. Like he wanted to do something. I went to the fridge and got out two cans of beer. We drank between small talk, and eventually we migrated to the couch. The lights were still out. Miko was dozing on top of the TV.

We turned on the television. It was a weather broadcast. I switched it over to a music video, which we laughed at for a few minutes. But then he turned to me and put his arm around my shoulder and I knew it was about to start. I took one last swallow of my beer and then excused myself to go put the cans in the recycling bin. When I was out of sight I did a little body check, made sure everything was alright. The knot wasn't too tight. One white bra strap was showing. I smelled like sugar.

As soon as I sat back down he started to kiss me. No words. Just action. In a matter of moments he had pushed me back down slowly onto the couch. I was beneath him. His blonde hair tickled my cheek. I wrapped one leg around him, because that's how this was supposed to go.

I don't know when it hit us - what was about to happen, I mean. He paused for a moment, and in the silence I could hear my heart beat and the sound of pop music coming from the TV. Then, I sat up and pointed my chin in the direction of the bedroom. My bedroom. The door was wide open, beckoning. He nodded and got up, keeping his arm around my waist, a couple of fingers inside the waistband. We closed the door behind us. I thought to lock it. I briefly glanced around to make sure everything was alright. No underwear draped over the desk chair. Like that was about to matter.

And then we were on my bed, kissing. Kissing like crazy. He whispered something in my ear, asked me if I was sure I was ready. I think I said yes. I know I said something encouraging, because he kept going. We kept going. No stopping.

It was exactly as I had imagined.

I walk back into the kitchen, dressed in his T-shirt and my little yellow panties. The clock flashes 12:30. We've been here for an hour. And look what's happened. I blush a little as I go to turn off the TV. The music videos are still going, the same ones as earlier repeating in a late-night loop. Miko is still asleep. I I'm not really tired. I have jitters in my stomach. Jitters in my head. I'm jittery. The floor feels cold and tingly on my bare feet.

I hear a sound from my bedroom, and when I look he's standing there, wearing his green boxers, his blonde hair all messed up and funny. He smiles. I smile back.

I fix some noodles and we eat them on the couch, not talking or anything. We don't turn the TV on. Miko wakes up and moves around a little. Cats are oblivious.

Everything was exactly as I had imagined. A moment, a breath, a comma. Nothing. Everything. At the same time. That's a paradox, I think.

Everything was exactly how I had imagined. It was a good thing. It was a great thing. I could go tell Shiori, You were wrong. It wasn't awkward. It was wonderful. Take that.

We're both done with our noodles. He's looking at me now, chopsticks clutched in his hand.

He tells me his soccer shirt isn't very becoming on me.

I agree.

A/N: Reviews are very encouraging. Like one of those truck drivers - How's My Driving? Tell me how I'm doing.