Rare andBeautiful
I was ten years old when I had my very first kiss. I was playing at a friend's house when this new boy was dared to kiss me. I punched him right on his face.
The next day, Esme dragged me to the boy's house to apologize. Rosalie, my older sister, insisted that it's not my fault a hormonal boy wants to get in my pants. She was grounded for two weeks, which is worse than my 1 week, after saying that.
Poor Rose, she's just trying to defend me.
Standing at the front door of Brandon residence with Esme, I was looking at the single cloud floating up on the sky when the front door opened. There stood a petite lady, she looked older than Esme; she introduced herself as Bernadette Brandon, the mom. And beside her, smiling cheekily – twinkling eyes, dimpled cheeks and all that – is Alice.
I can barely remember what went through after that. Just the part where I found myself inside Alice's room, her holding and inspecting the hand I punched her brother face's with – his name's Edward - while telling me that I wasn't like the one she's expecting. She taught she will see a girl who looks like a bully and that I'm too pretty to be like one.
I know my face turned red like the color of my shirt that moment.
Then, Alice - who's shorter than me by few inches, with long, silky black hair, green twinkling eyes, sweet dimpled cheeks, and a face that lights up when she smiles – told me that we will be best friends forever, all of that just because I punched her brother.
When we went home that day, and the night came, and I was lying on my bed: I was fully aware of the remnants of Alice's touch on my right hand more than the memory of the kissed that was given to me by her brother.
Hours passed and I fell asleep with smile on my face, dreaming about my tomorrows.., with Alice in them.
…my dearest Ali...
…we are now sixteen, both immature and reckless and stupid – and somehow broken.
But I want to let you know that when I was ten years old, I fell in love.