(A/N: Hey, sorry about the wait. I've just been trying to take my time with writing. Thank you for reading, and thanks to those that have followed, favorited, and/or reviewed. Your support keeps me motivated!)


Chapter 4: Moving on?

MAX:

I had to ride the school bus the next morning, since my parents were both busy and didn't actually have time to take me to school. The previous evening, I had a long phone conversation with Chloe, and the idea of her coming to visit me in Seattle came to light. She said it'd be over that summer, and that she was really looking forward to it, as was I.

I hadn't told her yet, but I was beginning to develop a crush on her. I came to the realization after I thought about a time we'd stayed up on a rainy night, reading scary stories. She was a fantastic story teller, and we couldn't sleep, scared of the monsters from the story— but we were about seven and eight years old, so it was fairly normal, I guess. In an attempt to comfort ourselves we had cuddled up in my bed, and we fell asleep that way. There were a few more occasions where we'd cuddled like that, but it wasn't anything I thought of as weird, because it was more or less platonic.

I think?

I stood outside in the cool morning mist, near the slightly dented mailbox in front of my house, carrying all of my school stuff and my instant camera. I couldn't really go anywhere without that thing, it was like an extension of myself. I felt it through the fabric of the bag against my hand, as the headlights of a yellow school bus came around the street corner. The sun was only beginning to rise, and I had to be out there kinda early. Like, 6:40 AM early, which meant I'd been awake since about 5:30. I was definitely feeling the effects of it.

The bus pulled up in front of me, opening its side door with a whooshing sound. The lights on the inside came on, and I walked up the few steps, greeted by an African-American woman. We exchanged 'good mornings' and I began to try to find a place to sit, walking through the alley of other tired looking kids.

Kristen, to my pleasant surprise, was on this bus too, and I'd noticed her pretty quickly. But, she didn't notice me. She had her eyes shut, long eyelashes peeking out from them, leaning her head against the window. She had on a purple hoodie, with the hood up around her head, hiding her hair save for a few loose strands. I didn't need to think twice about sitting next to her, I scooted into the bench-like leather seat, seeing that she no longer wore a skirt either, just a regular pair of blue-jeans. Once I was seated, the bus driver got us moving and shut off the interior lights again, leaving my eyes to adjust to the dark.

Kristen smelled kinda good, almost like bubblegum, and I assumed she'd been chewing some. Her smell was shoved out of my nose by the stale smell of the gray leather seat.

I leaned my back against the seat to try to make myself comfortable. I held my camera bag in my lap, with my fairly new backpack between my legs on the floor. The rumbles and vibrations of the bus made it impossible to fall asleep, no matter how much I tried, so I gave up on that and sat in silence for several minutes. Well, I was silent, anyways. Nobody else was, there was a lot of talking going on.

In an attempt to entertain myself, I started to play with the zipper on my own hoodie, moving it up and down. I looked out of the window past Kristen, seeing the orange sun begin to peek itself over Seattle's moving skyline. I probably would've tried to take a picture, but I didn't want to wake her. Besides the flash, these cameras are fairly loud. It wouldn't have turned out any good, anyways.

The bus rounded a particularly tight corner, and Kristen started to fall over onto me. I pushed back a bit with my shoulder, stretching out one of my legs so that I didn't fall over either. This woke her up, and through the light, I could see her eyes open, half-lidded. She yawned and sat up straight, stretching herself and pulling her hood down, revealing her wavy hair, which she fluffed out with her hands.

I thought she was really pretty. Her widow's peak actually made the shape of her face somewhat like a heart, and she had fairly prominent cheekbones. Her jaw terminated in a pointer chin, and the sunlight almost made her hair appear reddish. She had freckles similar to mine.

I realized I'd been staring at her when she spoke, somewhat groggily, "Hey Max."

"Uh, hi Kristen."

She rubbed her eyes. "I didn't know you rode this bus."

"I didn't know you rode this bus, but I'm glad you do."

She blinked some of the sleep away. "Same. For once there's actually somebody cool I can talk to. Everybody else in here is obnoxious."

I had to slightly raise my voice to be heard over the rowdy conversations around us, "Yeah, seems like it. I can hardly hear myself think."

It was actually really loud in there. A lot of the other kids on the bus were trying to sleep, and some of the more inconsiderate ones were yelling their conversations, most of which were about fifty percent curse words. I guess the bus driver had given up on controlling it long ago. I was left wondering how Kristen was able to sleep through all of that.

A ray of dim sunlight shone on my legs, which captured her attention. "Hey… is that a camera bag?"

I looked down at it and back up at her. "Yeah, wanna see what's in it?"

She turned towards me and sat cross legged on the seat, hands in her lap. "Sure, I love cameras."

"That makes two of us." I undid the buttons on the bag and pulled out the camera, holding it where she could see it.

A shadow covered most of her face, and I couldn't see her expression. "Woah, is that what I think it is?"

I grinned, flipping up the flash. "Yep, a Polaroid instant camera."

"In yellow, niiice."

Her enthusiasm over my camera had caught me by surprise. "You're into these too?"

She rested her jaw against her palm. "A little bit. I actually own one of those folding SX-70 cameras."

"Okay, now I'm jealous."

She shrugged up one shoulder, letting her hand fall in her lap. "I never actually use it, to be honest. It just sits on a shelf collecting dust, and..." Kristen ran her hand through her hair. "Crap, there was something else I was gonna say, but I forgot."

She kept glancing out the window intermittently, shifting her positions as she did. She gasped in sudden remembrance. "Oh, now I remember! I was gonna say that if you want that camera, I could give it to you."

"Really?"

The bus's front end turned to face the sun, allowing me to better see her face. "Of course."

She continued to squirm in the seat, restless. Before I could reply to her, she said, "Hey, sorry. I forgot to take my meds today, so… I'm kinda scattered right now."

I tilted my head, folding the flash back down. "You take meds?"

She rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah, I have ADHD. That's why I'm being so hyper. Sorry if I start annoying you…"

"Kristen, you're not-"
"I'd like to— Oh, sorry."

I chuckled. "You're fine, go ahead."

She sheepishly smiled. "I'd like to get rid of that camera."

"Kristen, do you know how much money those are worth?"

She looked at me sideways. "A shitload, right?"

"Yeah, a shitload."

Her gaze moved to my camera bag. "Well, my mom gave it to me, and basically told me to do whatever I want with it. And… what I want to do with it, is give it to you."

I rubbed my collarbone through my shirt. "That's really… nice of you, actually."

She locked eyes with me, turning her head towards me and pushing her hair over her shoulder. "Well, I'm a really nice person, so… want it or not? It can just as easily stay sitting on that shelf… forever."

My shoulders sagged. "You're making this really hard for me, I just don't want to rob you of a nice camera."

She teased, "You're not robbing me. C'mon, you know you want it."

I took a deep breath, buckling under my want of that camera. I grinned as I came to my decision. "Okay, I guess I'll take it off your hands. Thank you, it really means a lot to me."

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled. "No problem, Max." She continued. "So, tell me about yourself."

A strand of hair tickled my nose, and I moved it away. "Um, what's there to tell?"

Kristen stroked her chin. "T-tell you what, I'll start." She counted on her fingers. "I play the violin, my last name is Silva… my dad's from Portugal, uh… and I'm not from Seattle."

I took a moment to process all she'd said. "I… guess I'll start by asking where you're from."

She smirked. "West Philadelphia, born and raised."

I giggled at her joke and went along with it. "You got in one little fight and your mom got scared?"

She snorted with laughter. "Naaah, I'm actually from Colorado."

"Oh, cool! Where in Colorado?"

She gave a longing sigh. "Colorado Springs... You ever heard of Pike's Peak?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Well, I had a view of it from my bedroom window. There were a bunch of times where I would wake up, and it'd still be sunrise. Pike's Peak would be all orange, and there'd sometimes be hot air balloons in the sky; it was a pretty thing to wake up to."

I nodded, giving her my utmost attention. "It does sound like a pretty thing to wake up to…"

She tilted her head, gazing up at the ceiling. "Don't get me wrong, Seattle is a fantastic city. But, Colorado will always have a special place in my heart, since I was born there."

It wasn't at all hard for me to empathize with her. "I feel the same way about where I'm from: Arcadia Bay, in Oregon."

Her head snapped towards me, lips parted and eyes wide. "Holy shit, I've been there."

I jumped slightly, startled. "Whoa, really?"

Kristen's face lit up. "Yeah, my family went through there on the way up to Seattle. Cute little town."

"So... you saw the lighthouse and all of that?"

Light moved across her face, causing her to squint. "Yeah, and we ate at a really good diner. Can't remember the name of it."

"Two Whales?"

She ducked behind the seat in front of us, only just getting the light out of her eyes. "Yep, that one."

I ducked with her, as the light had moved to my face. "My friend, Chloe... her mom works there."

"Is her mom the uh... the nice blonde lady?" She made a gesture, like she was holding up a ponytail. "Had her hair up and stuff?"

There was only one nice blonde lady with her hair up that worked at the Two Whales, so it had to be Joyce.

"Yeah, sounds like her."

Her hand lowered. "Wow. Small frickin' world, huh?"

"Yeah… it's a small frickin' world."


CHLOE:

I decided that I was ready to go back to school, or… as ready as I'd ever be.

THE FUTURE NEEDS EXCELLENCE.

Ah, Jeremiah Blackwell… the man responsible for the school I now went to. His shining bronze likeness stood over me, all smug on his pedestal as if to say, 'Look at me! I'm up here... you're down there, and you'll never be on my level.'

Light gleamed off of the many shiny coins that sat on the bottom of the fountain, under a rippling layer of water. Graffiti and writing covered parts of the red brick, just your usual shit like somebody's initials, and the occasional scribble of profanity. Bird calls filled the air, sounding eerily similar to the ones in my nightmare.

I lost count of how many days I'd taken off of school, but it had to be at least ten. Things didn't seem any different, everybody around me went along with their business, like the busy bees they were.

But I felt different.

My life had changed in the blink of an eye, and I needed to live with this change now. While it still hurt to think about my dad, I dealt with it a lot better, and I had one hell of a support system in Max. She was my shoulder to cry on, and I was hers.

Honestly, I was scared. There I stood in front of that fountain, at a prestigious boarding high school, surrounded by… assholes, to be frank.

In the short time I'd already attended Blackhell— as I was now calling it, I'd learned how much I clashed with the people there. I hadn't even been going there for a month and I already got into a bit of trouble.

When this girl Marisa wouldn't leave me alone, I messed with her Bunsen burner to get back at her… and it burned her hand— not that badly or anything, but it did burn her.

I knew I'd taken it a step too far as soon as she started to cry. Part of me felt satisfied, but mostly I felt really guilty. To make matters worse, other students tattled on me and I had to go to the office.

Which brings me to another point: Principal Wells. Oh, where do I even begin with this guy? I guess for starters, I'll say that he was a complete drunk. I could smell the liquor on him from across his desk, and while he acted sober then, I can only guess that he got his drink on once I'd left his office… with a demerit. I was amazed I didn't get suspended.

A demerit is basically a badge of shame, permanently scarring my record. One step closer to flushing my scholarship down the shitter.

I was getting the impression that I wasn't gonna have such an 'excellent' time there. But on the bright side, there was at least one decent person I'd befriended.

Eliot: a bit of an average Joe, but he seemed interested in me, which I guess was flattering. I just didn't know a whole lot about him.

I was staring at those coins in the fountain, all zoned out, when Eliot's voice snapped me out of it.

"Waste of coins, isn't it?"

I dipped my hand in the water and took a few, holding them in my open palm with water dripping from it. I turned to face him with a sly grin. "Nope. These are donations to the Chloe Price foundation."

He sat on the edge of the fountain, shaking his head in disapproval. "I'd probably put those back if I were you."

I waved my other hand in dismissal. "Ah, don't worry about it. Nobody will care."

"Principal Wells would."

"Fuck that guy."

He scratched beneath his chin, and his neck visibly moved as he swallowed. "Uh, I heard about what happened in your science class."

I clenched my fist tightly around the coins. "Can we not… talk about that?"

Eliot nodded and gestured for me to sit on the fountain's edge. "Hey, I have something that'll make you feel better."

My hand jammed the wet coins into my pants pocket and sat beside him.

He unzipped his backpack and pulled out three small plastic bottles, putting them in my hands. "Here."

I held the bottles in my hands, with the clear liquid sloshing around in them. On the labels, were cartoony images of a halved lemon. "Woah, are these…-"

He completed my question. "Vodka shots."

I looked over my shoulders and hid them in my shirt, feeling the cold surfaces against my stomach. "Um… thanks?"

"Yeah, just… figured I'd give you those."

I furrowed my brows. "Where did you get them?"

"I got them from Rachel Amber… Don't say anything about it."

"Who the hell is that?"

He stood up. "Some girl— Hey, I gotta go. See you in Algebra."

My shoulders slumped as he walked off. "Y-yeah... see ya."


Fuckin' A… I can see why Principal Wells liked drinking so often.

There were two fuzzy Ms. Grants standing in the front of the room, and I couldn't tell which one to look at— not that it mattered, my eyes wouldn't really focus on either one. My entire body felt warm and fuzzy, and my mood was definitely improved.

Yeah… I drank the vodka all at once in the bathroom. Reckless as hell, I know, but fuck it. When life gives you lemon flavored vodka, you drink it. Made me throw up in my mouth, but I swallowed that shit back with a shudder. Must've been some strong shit, because I got more fucked up than I would have anticipated, and there was a lot more vodka in the bottles than there seemed to be.

Also, I guess Marisa wasn't in this same science class with me anymore, so… I win?

Ms. Grant's science class was probably my favorite one so far. We were in the chemistry phase at that point. Blackwell actually had a chemistry class on its own, but that was for later years, this class was just more general science.

Me and the other students were sitting at these black chest height lab tables that were bolted to the ground, with electrical outlets and gas hookups in them, on stools that made my ass fall asleep every single time. The tables were situated around the edges of the room. There was an open area in the middle, and that's where Ms. Grant stood, supervising us in our lab experiments.

Obviously, I'd missed what we'd been doing over the past week or so. I was lost, so I clumsily raised my hand once Ms. Grant was looking in my direction.

"Yes, Chloe."

Slurred words rolled off my dry tongue, "Muh… Ms. Grant, what're we doing? I wasn't… here."

She furrowed her brows in concern. "Are you okay?"

I rested my chin on the table, clearing my throat and noticing a few other kids staring at me. "Yeah yeah, I'm fine, just... tired."

Ms. Grant looked to her side. "Steph?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you mind partnering with Chloe?"

"I don't mind."

Ms. Grant said with an air of sympathy in her voice, looking back over at me. "Alright, she'll help get you caught up. I'll be back around shortly to answer your questions."

"Okay…" I slid my butt off of the stool and tried my hardest to walk over to Steph, who sat a few tables away. Eh, I guess I wasn't that messed up, walking wasn't so hard. Steph gave me a strange look as I approached her— she knew something was up. I didn't really know her, I just knew that she was a bit of a geek, and that she liked tabletop games. Her straight brown hair fell just below her shoulders in an undercut, in which the side of her head was buzzed. She wore a black Nintendo 64 t-shirt and generic jeans.

Her blurry double figure melded into one as I scooted the stool back, sitting on it. We just stared at each other for a few seconds, until she said in a whisper, "Have you… been drinking?"

I snorted. "Heh, nooooo."

"I can smell it on you."

I flopped my hand around in what was supposed to be a wave of dismissal. "Yer nose is broken."

She shook her head and pushed an open notebook towards me. "Whatever, you record the data, I'll handle the chemicals… oh, and put these on." She handed me a pair of safety goggles, which I fumbled to slip on my head, while she put on a pair of her own.

I tried to grab the pen sitting atop the notebook— I forgot how to hold a fucking pen. "Steph, bro, I don't even think I can write… right now."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. Are you really that drunk?"

I shrugged.

"What did you even drink?"

"Some Lemony Snicket, fuckin'... vodka."

She narrowed her eyes at me, and held up her index finger in front of mine. "Hey, follow the tip of my finger with your eyes, without moving your head."

I strained to focus on it, pulling up my goggles as she moved her finger side to side; my head didn't stay still. She dropped her arm in her lap. "Damn, you are that drunk."

She facepalmed. "Ugh, tell you what… I'll do all the work, I guess."

"Are..." I burped with a closed mouth, letting it out of my nose. "Are you sure?"

"Not really, but you're kinda 'out of commission' right now."

I blinked a few times. "Uh… sorry."

She turned towards the lab materials without a word and started to work; just like she said she would, she did all of it.

After science class ended, I puked in the bathroom— on the tile floor. I never did get caught…


A few months went by.

The first Christmas without my dad was a week away, but me and mom were trying to be as optimistic as possible about it. We'd still gone through our decorating procedure, without neglecting a single fucking thing.

Except this year, we used one of those fake trees instead of a real one— no need to clean up pine needles. My mom had left me to put ornaments on the tree, telling me she needed to go run a quick errand.

I was cool with it, sometimes it was nice to be alone for a little while. I dug through the box of ornaments, pulling out some that I'd made back in elementary school. For some reason, these embarrassed the hell outta me… so I didn't put them on the tree.

I found one Max had made for me a few Christmases ago. It was a small clay deer, with little white dots painted on its side and belly. It was actually very artfully done, I could tell she spent a lot of time on it. I hung the little dude up on the tree, thinking about the ornament I'd made her.

When I realized I couldn't remember what the ornament I'd made her was, it bummed me out a bit.

I was done with the ornaments, so I pushed the box aside and hit the switch. The tree flickered on, its multicolored lights reflecting off of the box TV several feet away.

It was steadily snowing outside, leaving a thin fluffy blanket of white on everything.

I looked through the sliding glass door, breathing on the glass and leaving a foggy spot, in which I scribbled nothing in particular before it faded away. I made it over to the kitchen, perusing through the cabinets for packets of powdered cocoa. I felt like making hot chocolate.

I was in luck, we had some. I dug out a pan from another cabinet and filled it with water to make enough for me and Mom. I started the boiling process on the stove and stood by, waiting for it to heat up.

After a few minutes of waiting, I heard the front door open, but it wasn't just my mom coming through the door. I heard a drawling male voice, saying something that made my mom laugh. I peeked around the corner of the kitchen wall and saw him: He had his black hair styled into a high and tight military haircut, and he had what I can only describe as a pedophile mustache. The immediate question that came to my mind was, 'Who the fuck is that… and why is he in our house?'

My mom stood beside him, and they both noticed me looking at them.

She gestured towards me. "Oh, this is my daughter, Chloe."

The man smiled and reached out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

I side stepped out from behind the wall and loosely shook his hand, while he firmly shook mine. Our hands released, and in a state of confusion I asked, "Uh, Mom... who is he?"

She gave an affectionate glance to him, before looking back at me. "David Madsen, I met him at the Two Whales."

I knitted my eyebrows, stabbing a finger at the floor with a bent arm. "Today?"

She shook her head. "No, about a month ago."

I hooked my thumbs into my pants pockets. "Mom, isn't it a little… soon?"

Her nostrils noticeably flared. "Soon?"

David jerked his thumb towards the front door. "Sorry, should I go wait outside?"

"No, you're fine, David."

I crossed my arms. "Actually, I think he should."

She lowered her brows. "Chloe, he's our guest."

A guest that she seemed uncomfortably warm towards.

"No, he's your guest."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't feel like arguing with you right now."

"Too bad, Mom. Because, we're doin' it."

David started for the door. "Yeah, I'll just go wait out front."

My mom put her hand out in a failed attempt to stop him. "Wait, David." He disappeared as the door opened and shut.

She huffed and turned back towards me. "Fine, Chloe. Say what you need to say."

I tongued the inside of my cheek before saying, "It's hasn't even been three months since Dad died."

"Yes, I know."

"What I don't get… is how you can move on so fast."

"I'm not 'moving on.'"

I threw out my arms to my sides. "Yet you bring home some other guy?"

"I have every right to do that."

My arms fell with a slap against my legs. "Yeah, but is it right to do that?"

She let out a harsh breath. "Chloe, David's a good man."

I took a step forward, glaring at her. "Dad was a great man."

Her eyes began to tear up. "I know, just… give David a chance, will ya?"

"Alright, sure mom… I'll give your cheap-ass attempt at replacing Dad a chance…"

Her voice shook, "I'm not replacing anybody, Chloe. Is that what you think this is?"

I started to walk off. "Whatever, I'm done talking to you. Have fun with your new boy toy."

"No. Stay here."

"Chloe!"

I ignored her and stomped up the stairs into my room, slamming the door behind myself and locking it. I started digging through my closet, looking for heavier cold weather clothes to wear. Eventually, I found some: a thick jacket with fuzzy wool on the inside, which used to belong to my dad. It draped over me a few sizes too large, but it worked. I slipped another pair of pants on over the ones I already wore, and grabbed a dark blue beanie that sat on the shelves beside my closet, putting it on my head. Lastly, I put on a double layer of socks and slipped on a black pair of mom's boots that I was borrowing.

I crawled on my bed and opened the window above it, going out onto the roof. Biting wind and snow hit my face, so I pushed the jacket's collar upward. That David guy wasn't standing out front anymore, so I had a good chance to make a break for it; I slid the window shut and sat on the edge of the roof, before I jumped into a pile of snow.

It stung my ankles and my legs buckled on impact, leaving me to fall on my chest. I rolled in pain for a moment, blinking flecks of snow from my eyelashes. Nothing was broken, so I stood up and hobbled towards the sidewalk, following it due-east with no specific destination in mind. My limp rapidly improved as I continued to walk, icicles practically forming on my breath, which I could see with every exhale. My clothes were doing a good job of keeping me warm, and I kept my head down to shield my face from the flurry of snow I was walking into.

I walked for a quite a while, finding myself in another neighborhood. Not another soul was outside and all was quiet, except for the whooshing of wind past my head and my crunching footsteps. I recognized where I was; this neighborhood led into the woods— the same woods that contained Max and I's treehouse.

I still felt funny about that dream I'd had, with Dad being there and whatnot. But I knew that it was the only other place I could run to when I felt like it. And boy was I glad I left the house. Mom could deny it all she wanted to, but she was rebounding… trying to replace dad with some douchey looking asshole that frequented the diner. I could imagine them having a glass of wine in conversation, in our living room, about… well, stuff.

'Oooh, Chloe's just having a hard time. She'll get over it.'

He'd probably say something like: 'Hey, speaking of hard… wanna see what's in my pants?'

The fact that she was willing to move on so soon disturbed the living hell outta me. This guy was probably exploiting her need of a shoulder to cry on, only to slip into her pants later on.

I thought mom knew better, but… maybe I didn't know my mom as well as I thought. Which would make sense, I guess. When Dad was still around, him and I had a bit of a closer relationship, and a silly one at that. Even on the worst days he could make me laugh. Meanwhile, my mom worked all day at the diner, only to come home at night. My dad worked too, but he had a bit of a staggered work schedule, so he regularly had time to watch over Max and I in our adventures. Because of this, I just didn't see my mom all that often.

The entrance to the woods stood over me like a mouth waiting to feed. Bare branches swayed in the wind, coated in more snow. From that point on, it was about a quarter mile walk to get to the treehouse. I walked through the snow, which never got past my ankles in depth.

In hindsight, what I was doing was really fucking dangerous, because if I got lost, I was boned.

But I didn't get lost, and I made it to the clearing. Seeing that treehouse in the field of white brought a sigh of relief to me, and I closed the hundred yard distance between it and I. It looked just like it did in my dream, except for being a different season. Instead of vines wrapping themselves around the ladder, icicles stabbed out from the rungs. I started to climb, being careful not to let my feet slip on the ice. I made it onto the little patio and unlatched the door, yanking it open.

The temperature wasn't much different in there, but there was zero wind chill, so it sure felt warmer. Good thing my dad put insulation in there. I shut the door behind myself, and took in the sights of the small room. It reminded me of one of those cozy little log cabins. A small futon sat in one corner, facing a knee high table. The table had papers scattered all over it. I sat down on the futon and went through the papers, drawings and notes that Max and I left for each other.

I remembered making those, we had spent the night up there about a month before my dad passed away. Max was kinda scared for whatever reason, but she didn't want to admit it. I tried like hell to make her feel better, like cracking jokes, and my efforts somewhat worked, but she was still a bit iffy about being surrounded by pitch blackness fifteen feet off the ground. Even the lanterns we had didn't comfort her.

I thought I'd run out of ideas, until one came to mind. She was lying on that very futon, which was folded out to be a bed, and I just went and hugged her underneath the blanket. I remembered how she held her breath at first, but then released her breath in a pleasured sigh, scooting closer to me. God, she was so warm. Eventually we both drifted off, but I can't remember who fell asleep first.

I woke up before her, though, with her face inches from mine, and I did what came to mind at the time.

I'd planted a kiss on her lips... and she had no clue.


(A/N: So yeah, pretty dialogue heavy chapter. When I initially wrote this chapter, there was actually a lot more, but I decided it was too much and cut it out. I'm still learning. I mean... shit, I've only been writing stuff for 2 months, give or take.)