Cold

It was then that Miley did what I thought she'd never do. As I sat wrapped in a sweatshirt, jeans, and black converse, with my hands behind my head and knees curled, lying on a park bench. My straight blonde hair sprayed out from beneath my black snowboard cap, and my eyes were studying the blue sky and the park's chilly features.

I heard the cheering of the little kids running and falling and pushing and hugging, and I remembered when I was that age with my brother and Olly. Shrieks of your it and heyyyyyy don't push meeee and even the odd it's MY turn stop cutting, brought smiles to my face, they were hard words but they were spoken by innocent lips; not a bitter thought behind them … how come it wasn't that simple when you were fifteen?

My eyes closed, and I felt cold seep into me. Where's Miley?

Mom had always taught me about strangers, rapists, and pedophiles. She said I was that age now, and that all the guy's eyes were on me. Like old guy's eyes. I suddenly felt scared. I suddenly felt like closing my eyes blinded me from all the horrible people lurking around. I felt silly thinking like this. But, even though I could hear the little kids, people all around, I seemed to feel like something was coming and I nearly screamed slash had a stroke when I felt a weight on my waist and my eyes exploded open.

Miley.

Shit.

She's on top of me.

What the hell?!

I propped up on both elbows as I felt the anxiety of rape leave me, and the confusion of Miley's position seep in. "Ummm hey Miles." Honestly I wasn't sure how to react, but I knew we'd drawn a few rare eyes, as our positioning was certainly suggestive.

"Lilly, I love you so much." Well it wasn't that those words were new, but I certainly don't remember ever hearing them with Miley straddling me and a completely seductive hoarseness in her voice.

"Love you too Miles bu -" Her lips crashed down on mine, and her hand went up to my rosy, cold cheek. No cliché staring into each other's eyes, no sudden realization we were both in love, just Miley crashing down her lips; and me … not reacting.

I suddenly began to move my lips beneath hers. What the hell?! What was I doing? And why was my first kiss consisting of me braving the cold, my lips on fire, and my best friend lying on top of me? Oh shit.

I felt it. At first it was just her teeth pulling on my lower lip. Then it was her sucking on my lower lip. And then I felt her warm tongue slip across my cold lower lip. Jesus. She's an amazing kisser. This must be why she has so many guys.

But still. This was the ultimate question. Should I give her access and then lead her on? Should I stop now and tell her we need to talk? Or perhaps I should just keep having this fun and tell her, after, that it was all simple best friend stuff? Damn it, I wish this was a multiple choice answer.

I barely thought before my body answered. Her warm tongue invaded my cool mouth and explored its crevices. I hardly could suppress a moan as I felt her other hand traveling up my leg. I breathed in harshly and felt her smile on my lips before letting out a passionate moan at my fingers tangled in her hair. I lent against the iron handle of the wooden bench and I felt it. I felt eyes; Curious eyes of little kids, heads turning, and disapproving stares from over – zealous Catholic parents.

This was the kind of stuff I used to live for; Freakin the crap outta random people and watching them suffer through the craziness of it all. But it just seemed like right now I was far to worried about Miley. No one ever really saw two girls or two guys doing anything and this was definitely a show for these people, two girls making out in the snow, what a Christmas gift.

I felt Miley pull away for quick air and I took a swift breath too. Then I felt her attacking me again, her hands were now all the way up and my back was completely down on the bench. She was truly lying on top of me now and I felt her fingers flirting with the top of my tight jeans. Surely she didn't expect this to go anywhere. Certainly not in the park. Certainly not with me, her best girl friend.

I was a little nervous. I felt her tongue caressing mine with fire and passion and another movement against my hips.

I didn't want the kiss to end. Not only did it feel amazing, but what were we gonna do? When passion died and it was time to talk? I didn't like her like she thought. Maybe she was experimenting?

"Lilly I love you soo much please tell you love me too."

I guess not. I guess this really was all for real.

Shit.

Her lips had stopped forming love and started forming words. Now I was screwed. I led her on and I knew I didn't like her. And the worst part was I led her on for my own satisfaction.

The way her eyes examined me, I could tell she pleaded for my returned love. The way she spoke I could tell she didn't care about anyone else. She didn't want my lips, or my body, or to "try it with a girl." She wanted my love. She wanted my heart. She spoke like she would give anything for it. And I felt guilt. I felt the stares. I felt the sadness that welled in my heart as I thought of my negative response to her confessions. I felt the pain. I felt the hurt. I felt icy. Cruel. Cold.