Steven pulled his hand back immediately.

"Connie, please, I didn't mean to - I didn't mean to make you feel like that, I swear, I just got…"

There was no excuse. Back in the gymnasium, the music pulsed gently, as much of a pop-music slow dance as the middle school would allow. The parking lot was chilly this late at night, and Steven crossed his arms. He couldn't imagine how cold Connie was in that dress. In her anger, though, that was probably the last thing she was thinking about.

This was a new anger. When she turned around, Steven found himself trapped in her glare. He had never seen Connie this upset before, ever; she was too mad to cry. The boy froze up as Connie raised her hands, trying to find the words to match her mood.

"How could you ever think that was a good idea?" she blurted. "Everyone saw! Everyone was looking at us, and you just kiss me right in the middle of the gym? What were you thinking?"

"I…wasn't thinking, Connie, I didn't know…" He wanted to feel angry back, to accuse her of anything at all, but she was right. "I didn't mean it."

"You. Didn't. Mean it?!"

"NO! Nononono, not like that! I mean I didn't - I was - "

Ten thousand excuses clogged his brain at the same time. Steven grabbed his hair and two-stepped in place, pacing without pacing as he tried to think of the right thing to say here. This was spiraling out of his control faster than he could imagine, and he could tell that Connie needed him to say something that he couldn't find.

"I know what you were trying, and that's not the problem."

Oh no. She was calmer. Steven stared and forced himself to swallow. His breath was racing, and he inhaled enough to slow that down, sucking the night air through burning cheeks. Connie had her back turned, staring at the empty parking lot.

"But Steven…"

Her voice broke. Steven's hands lowered to his sides.

"You don't have to see these people every day. I'm going to go back on Monday and everyone's going to look at me and think, that's Connie, the girl who got her first kiss, and I never wanted to be that girl. People used to think of me the way I wanted them to think about me, and that's gone now."

"Connie…"

"I used to be that smart girl, that quiet girl, and now that's gone. People prey on that, Steven. They feed on it. You don't know what that's like."

He didn't. The one academic experience he had hadn't ended supremely well, and the treatment wasn't the greatest. For a young woman, for his best friend, he couldn't imagine, and his stomach sunk as he watched her head lower, her shoulders shaking as she contained her crying.

He didn't think. When he leaned in, when the music faded out not five minutes ago, Steven was lost in his own teenage dream. The warmth of her lips had been blown away by the night breeze. The hand that had been on her waist had been jerked away. It was only now that he remembered the number of eyes that had been on the girl as she stormed out of the gym doors, the flighty giggles from around the dance floor, the murmurs that followed him as he had called her name out loud -

Steven rubbed at the slight stain on his khakis where he had dropped an hors d'oeuvre earlier. His birthday shirt did little to protect him from the night, but he knew that he couldn't do anything to convince Connie to come back into the warmth of the gym. He had messed up. No, that was wrong - he had hurt her.

Lion loped out from behind the corner of the building, patiently waiting for the children since their arrival. He walked up to Connie, turning in front of her to brush against her body. When he looked at Steven, he didn't glare with his usual derision. He was built for comfort. She needed it.

"I'm sorry. Connie, I'm so, so sorry."

The music faded over to the regular dance-pop, still muted by the solid walls of the school. Connie warmed herself against Lion and steadied her breath against the night. Steven stuck his hands in his pockets and waited. He couldn't fix this for her. He could never bring a first kiss back. The two teenagers stood in the parking lot as a singular street lamp watched their night pass by.