Teenage Whims

"Is this fine, Izuma-kun?"

"Yeah."

Shizuka Nanami grunted as she rubbed his back with her feet. It was almost a daily routine; everyday, they would go inside the room and Shizuka would massage his "sore back."

"I don't know why we do this everyday," Shizuka spoke, sweat beads on both sides of her head. "We only have volleyball once a week."

"It relaxes me," answered Izuma, his head buried in his arms.

Shizuka snorted. "Answer accepted. But..." Her face was now of confusion. "Does it have to be me that has to massage your 'sore back'"—when Shizuka said the words, she did a quote gesture—"after classes? I mean, there's Hisaya and Shinjo and—"

However, Izuma had cut her off. "That's 'cause you're better at this than they are."

At this, Shizuka couldn't help but blush a cute tint of pink. "Y-you think so...?" she asked, fiddling with her fingers.

Izuma, head still buried and oblivious to Shizuka's embarrassment, nodded. "Yes."

This confirmation, oddly, pleased the ginger-haired girl, but she didn't know why. There's nothing wrong with being pleased like this, right? she thought.

"Oh, oh... okay." Izuma's deep voice cut her train of thoughts—she listened carefully, fascinated. "You can stop now."

Shizuka placed her foot back inside her shoe, hands clasped behind her back—she was doing the "embarrassed schoolgirl" pose. She didn't know why, though.

"Thanks a lot, Shizuka-san," he said, now facing her.

Shizuka looked down. "Um... No problem."

Izuma stared at the redhead in puzzlement. Odd. She was so unlike the usual Shizuka—the serious, passive, and mature Shizuka—now; instead, she was now acting like a girl who had just talked to her crush.

"Shizuka—is there something wrong?" he asked in his usual deep and masculine voice.

Silence answered him. Shizuka was still looking down at the ground, embarrassed. Unfortunately for her, Izuma just had to increase her embarrassment; he had lifted her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

"Shizuka," he called again, but his question was different now. "Why are you blushing?"

Oh, boy.

Shizuka's face darkened a thousandfold shades of red—if that was even possible! Her palms were sweating and shaking now. Unable to take it anymore, Shizuka braced herself did the last thing she would do now—kiss him.

She closed her eyes tight; Izuma's, on the other hand, were wide open in shock—something unusual for him to do. Their noses were brushing each other. Shizuka subconsciously removed his trademark glasses and threw them somewhere, not caring if they were broken.

Trying to go on with the flow, he kissed her back, eventually. He touched her perfectly-shaped face carefully, as if one wrong movement would destroy it. All of a sudden, he softly pushed her against the wall, deepening the kiss.

After about two minutes, they parted away from each other to catch their breaths. Izuma was the first to recover. He was smirking at Shizuka.

"I was wondering," began the former school council president, "where'd you get the courage to do that?"

Shizuka did not answer; she just kept on catching her breath. He patiently waited. Half a minute passed.

Finally, the flustered Shizuka answered, "I—I don't k-know... Maybe it was the hormones."

Izuma let out a chuckle. "First, you act like an embarrassed school girl; second, you just kiss me and break my glasses." He picked up his glasses, both lens broken. "And lastly, you don't know why you did it," he finished.

"Thank you for summing it up," Shizuka said sarcastically. She stared at his face and noticed that he looked cuter without the glasses. Out of nowhere, she added, "By the way, you look cuter without those glasses of yours. I suggest you wear contacts."

This statement made Shizuka feel the need to giggle like a rabid fangirl, though she was able to control it. On the other hand Izuma froze on the spot.

She walked, passing by his frozen figure, but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"See ya," she said, walking away.

The frozen Izuma stayed frozen, contemplating what just happened. About a quarter of a second, he finally moved and stared at Shizuka's retreating figure.

Shizuka was still Shizuka, only hormone-controlled.

And so was himself—only one-fourth of him, though.

Yep—hormones drive teen lives crazy.