Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction involving characters from The O.C., owned by Josh Schwartz and FOX Television.The plot of the story below is the product of the author's imagination and therefore used in a fictional manner.

First Kiss

By Krabby Patty

Kirsten Nichol really hates the cold.

Of course, those who knew her well knew for a fact that there were more things that she hated, which were less trivial than the temperature.

Number one would have to be the Newport Beach society. Though she had lived there for most of her years of existence, it was a place she never called home. She hated the utter shallowness of the people there, most especially the women, who did nothing but sit around in their McMansions reveling in their wealth, or getting boob jobs (or whatever job was the latest fashion, she couldn't quite keep track), or gossiping about who was sleeping with who. Kirsten could go on and on here, listing endless whatnots she despised about Newport, but the point was that she hated, and she hated it enough for her to escape here to Berkeley.

Number two was her father, Caleb Nichol, possibly the most powerful man in Orange County. It was not that Kirsten didn't love her father, because… well, he was her father, but sometimes he was too much. She hated how he treated her Mum, canceling out on dates all the time, which made her Mum open yet another bottle of vodka, as if she didn't have enough alcohol in her system already. But what she hated the most about her father was how he wanted to be in control of her life, how he wanted her to marry Jimmy Cooper, how he wanted her to follow in his footsteps. And what Caleb Nichol wanted was just not what Kirsten wanted to do with her life.

Other than those two important lingering factors in her life, Kirsten found that she should hate more things that she didn't. For instance, she should hate the sea for having fish in them. She should hate golfing, because it was something she was just not good at. She should hate the distance she had to walk from her dormitory to a particular classroom, and she should hate it when people say the word "pee" because it makes her feel dirty. However, it's just hard for Kirsten to hate something so much.

But she absolutely loathed cold weather. She was a Californian girl at heart, and where she came from (hate it or not), it didn't snow. Her winters were not spent with her bundled up in several layers of clothing, and she sure as hell did not have to keep a fire going on in the fireplace during daytime. Furthermore, she never had to learn how to clear the driveway of snow, or lie down on the ground and make snow angels, or be wary of people about to throw snowballs at her. Most people of her age from around here probably felt envious of those people who get to experience a white Christmas, but Kirsten was absolutely fine with it. In fact, she thought she was much better off not having to experience weather at zero degrees.

Sandy Cohen often told her how great New York City was. He thought that winter was the best part of living in the Big Apple, as it never failed to brighten his spirits up in time for Christmas (or, rather, Hanukkah), and it made him happy to see people rushing around the malls, buying gifts for their loved ones. He spoke to Kirsten frequently about how he had missed ice-skating with his brother and his sister. He also told her of how, ever since he was a child, he always looked forward to the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree lighting despite celebrating Hanukkah instead of Christmas, much to the disdain of his spirited Jewish mother.

But apparently, what Sandy conveniently forgot to warn her about was how fucking cold New York can get, especially during the holidays. And Kirsten really should hate him for that.

"Sandy, I'm freezing!" She cast him a patented glare as she gritted her teeth together and blew furiously on her chilly palms. The efforts were clearly to no avail, and eventually she gave up, instead, using her hands to draw her designer cloak closer to her body. Kirsten cursed under her breath, something about how expensive coats can get when they can't even serve their purpose well. "Can we please go inside now?"

Glancing at Kirsten over his shoulder, Sandy shook his head, messing up his already-messy mop of black hair slightly. He had a wide grin on his face which only compelled her to continue glaring at him. "Nope. Not yet, Kirsten." He tore his gaze from hers and looked up towards the sky, where millions of snowflakes were falling towards the earth. It was quite a sight, actually, something he hoped Kirsten would find romantic, but apparently not as she was too preoccupied with the temperature.

"It's the first snowfall I've seen since I left New York years ago." He proclaimed, sounding like an excited child as he continued looking up at the sky, his bright blue eyes filled with a child-like awe. Sandy dropped his gaze to look at her briefly, before resuming his snow-watching. "No offence, but this is so much better than winter in California."

Kirsten pouted. Despite claiming how much she hated those socialites back in Newport, she couldn't help but show her Newpsie side at not getting what she wanted. "But it could last all night!" She protested in a whiny sort of tone as she tugged on his sleeve, barely feeling his arm through the thick fabric. He probably had three more layers of clothing beneath his jacket anyway. It sure felt like it. "Besides, we've been standing here for over an hour watching the snow fall down. It's getting old."

"And what's so horrible about that?" Sandy retorted back in a teasing sort of way. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him in an effort to try and warm her up a little, and he was rather surprised to find her shivering. "Hey, it's not that bad, Kirsten. You're overreacting." He said bracingly. "It's not even close to zero degrees."

"Yes, it is!" She argued. Well, it sure did feel like it.

"It's not."

"It is!"

"You're just being a baby over it."

"Am not!"

Sandy sighed exasperatedly, and rolled his eyes. They could go on and on about this. If he pushed it, Kirsten would get another one of those rage blackouts he often heard about, and Sandy wasn't really looking forward being under her wrath.

"Okay. Fine, we'll go inside." He conceded, sounding rather disappointed at having to cut this short. Looking at several children building a snowman beyond her gave him an idea, though he tried not to look too perky all of a sudden, lest Kirsten suspect he was up to something. "But before we do, I want to show you something."

She looked warily at him, tilting her head up to get a better view. Kirsten had enough of the snow already, but looking into those sincere eyes made it hard for her to resist. Besides, after he showed whatever this was to her, she could finally go inside and end this torture. "What is it?" She asked faintly, already looking forward to warming herself up by the fire and freeing herself of these wet clothes.

Kirsten should've known better than to trust him on this. She saw a mischievous grin spread across his face, a grin she knew all too well, and the next thing she knew, her face and her hair was covered in fresh snow. White, powdery, freezing snow.

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Sputtering furiously, she brushed off as much snow as she could away from her face, feeling a little disoriented at the impact of Sandy throwing the ball in her face. It was something she was not looking forward to getting used to at all. She whipped her ice-blond hair away from her shoulders and tried to shake off the snow that had clung to her precious locks, but the damage had been done. Her hair was already damp with the slowly melting snow.

"Sanford Cohen!" Kirsten yelled in her most domineering voice, hands on hips, cheeks getting redder and redder in a combination of the cold weather and her frustration at him. "I tell you how cold I am, and you get the brilliant idea of throwing a snowball at me? What was that for?" She demanded, sounding quite angry.

"Well, I figured you haven't had a snowball fight yet, much less had a snowball hit you in your face." Sandy commented lightheartedly, smirking down at his much-petite companion. Instantly, Kirsten forgot about being cold in her fury, and works on having revenge on him. She scooped a bunch of the powdery substance in her hands and aimed it at him, not really caring at all if her snowball wasn't… well, a ball. It was big enough to cover his head in snow, and that was enough for Kirsten. She smirked at him, feeling satisfied at seeing him struggle to wipe the flakes away from his face.

Sandy merely looked amused, the light in his eyes dancing mischievously. If a war was what she wanted, then it was war she was going to get. Expertly, he threw one snowball after another at her, but she was hopeless against his years of expertise and resulted to squealing and ducking, trying to protect herself from the onslaught of flying snowballs.

The next thing that Sandy knew, Kirsten had seized the opportunity when he was bent over and making a snowball, and hurled herself at him, sending the couple tumbling on the snow-softened ground. They wrestled with each other, fighting for the top position while shoving snow beneath their clothing while they were at it. Several minutes later, Kirsten ended up on top, sitting on his stomach while her hands held a surprisingly strong grip on his arms, holding them above his head.

She smirked. "That's what you get for playing dirty with me, mister."

Sandy smirked back, himself surprised that such a frail girl like Kirsten could have a death grip over him. Unable to fight for control beneath her, he instead retorted, "It's not like I'm the one who's cold."

Kirsten blinked, before she felt the coldness sweep over her. She had momentarily forgotten about her earlier complaints, distracted by her fury and her quest for revenge. The snow that Sandy had shoved beneath the coat she wore had melted with her body heat, and now, not only was she cold, but she was soaking as well.

She frowned, suddenly not feeling so triumphant at winning over their little match. Sandy looked up and considered the beautiful girl on top of him, waiting until he caught her eye. When he finally did, she looked warily down at him once again. "What?" Kirsten asked flatly, still keeping hold of his arms.

"Come closer." Sandy said, whispering as to ensure that she really would come closer to him. Kirsten sighed and did as what he ordered, only with the knowledge that he would be unable to throw a snowball at her again. Otherwise, she wouldn't dare. "What is it?" She inquired, her voice softer this time.

Sandy grinned again in that mischievous way of his, though this time, it's not necessarily a bad thing anymore as he tilted his head up to capture Kirsten's soft lips in a kiss. He had wanted to do that for a very long time, ever since he laid his eyes on her. But despite their undeniable attraction to each other, they had taken things slowly, especially after having just gone through relationships that didn't end quite well.

As their noses bumped, Kirsten moved her head to the side in order to kiss him better, her lips moving tentatively against his. She loosened her grip on his arms, and her hands fell to his shoulders instead. His arms went around her tiny waist, enveloping her in a warm hug before she pulled back, breathless and unable to speak for the moment. The kiss was not intensely in passion, though it was passionate enough for a first kiss.

They exchanged shy smiles, and all Kirsten could think of was how lame she was, that it took only a kiss to make her forget about her anger. At the same time, she couldn't help but think of how he was the cutest boy that she had ever laid eyes on, and how good it finally felt to be able to kiss him after all this time.

"Still wanna go inside?" Sandy was the first to speak, in that New York accent that she found so endearing. Trying not to smile from ear-to-ear, Kirsten gazes off in space, feigning thoughtfulness, although she knew there was only one answer to that question. "I think we can stay here for a while longer, don't you think?"

And so they kissed all over again, and Kirsten found that she doesn't hate the cold as much as she did anymore.

The End.