Corrie arrived promptly to Trevor's apartment. He lived alone, since he was at the school as a recommendation, and his parents were still living in New Jersey. She nervously checked her hair and what she was wearing. Levis, a white tank top and a slimming black sweater which hugged her body in all the right places. Appealing, yet not so much that she looked scantily clad, without being scantly clad.

She knocked on the door softly and waited. Suddenly, the door opened and Trevor took her bag and brought it inside. He was wearing jeans and a crisp white button down shirt. His long shaggy brown hair was wet, and carefully played over his eyes. "Well, hello there, Miss Santos," he said playfully.

"Hi," she breathed. "Uhm, we should probably get to work," she said suddenly, fidgeting with her sweater.

He suddenly looked very distracted. "Oh yes, we should. Would you like something to drink?"

She contemplated his offer and finally settled for water. As he went into the refrigerator, her eyes traced every contour on his body. For a really smart guy, he sure was built like a jock. However, he didn't seem like he was completely muscular everywhere, but just the perfect amount. Her eyes traced his eyes, and when he looked back, their eyes suddenly connected. Bolts of electricity stuck through Corrie's body as she slowly tried to break the connection. Sadness washed over her as she broke it. He brought her a bottle of water and plopped down next to her, being careful not to touch her. In a way, she was kind of glad, but she still wanted to feel him close to her.

"So, yes, we should get started, shouldn't we," he suggested, reaching for her book at the same time as she did, and carefully placing his hand on her own. Flustered, she drew her hand back, and became lost in thought.

Why does this keep happening? It's like the world is telling me 'hey Corrie, he's right there', but I think it's just too good to be true. Something isn't right here.

"Trevor," she started, but Trevor had already interrupted her.

"Corrie," he said chuckling to himself, as if she were his private joke. "This isn't usual for us. We're normally bickering. However, as I sit here, I keep getting lost in you. I find you fascinating, and I'm not sure if it's the teenage hormones talking or what, but..." he trailed off.

"But..." she asked, eagerly.

He finally made his decision. "There's something I'd like to try," he said, as he slowly leaned in towards her and kissed her softly.

Corrie had been taken aback, but suddenly felt herself kissing him back. Soon, the 'what seemed to be an innocent kiss' turned into a passion-play for the two teenagers. Trevor, with his arms his arm snaked around her waist and his fingers hungrily creeping up her tank top. Corrie, whose fingers had been interlaced in his wild, wet hair and her other arm around his neck. Both of them, moving their tongues with each other's, searching every inch of each other's bodies to find the places where the other would moan or hold on tighter or happily cry.

Finally, after what seemed as though it were hours of making out, they cuddled up next to each other on the sofa. Trevor, stroking her hair in gentle motions and Corrie, falling fast asleep in his arms.

Suddenly, Corrie woke, overwhelmed with the events of the previous night. She wasn't sure how she felt, but she knew she needed to go and think. She looked at her watch and it read 11:09 p.m. Crap, I need to get home!

She unwrapped his arms slightly and moved away, picking up her books and putting them into her bag. She pulled out a piece of paper and started writing a note to Trevor.

Trevor,

I know, I probably should have woken you up and talked to you personally, but I just don't know if I can handle that at the moment. Last night was wonderful, and I look forward to many similar occurrences in the future, but I just don't know about how I feel, or if this changes me at all. When we get to school tomorrow, let's please just act normal for our friends, since we aren't anything exclusive, as of yet, and I don't want to make a big deal, if you think it's nothing. It should be morning, so I hope you had a good night sleep, and I locked the door, so hopefully, no rapists made their way into your house. And you need to tell me if we're still on for this evening.

Much love,

Corrie