As I write this, I'm watching House. I get tingles whenever Wilson comes on :D

I lay in bed thinking about the thing I had just done. Oh God. Obviously Neil didn't feel that way… then again, maybe he was just shocked? I hoped it was the latter and that Neil and I would reconcile later. At the very least I wanted to retain our friendship.

It wasn't a kiss. I didn't think so, at least. I had never been kissed before, which I thought was weird, like I was a genetic mutation, a freak. All the girls at school talked about how far they had been with a guy, what they had done, and all I could do was listen and think, "I'm the same age as them. Why haven't I done half the things they have?" I desperately searched my brain for a time when I was kissed, a memory long forgotten or buried somewhere, but none came. Seventh grade, when I went to a camp where I knew no one. Surely something must have happened there. But no, I remember nothing except for being stuck in the middle of the lake in a canoe that I didn't know how to manage. School dances? Awkward, at the very least. Mostly I just stayed home as other girls danced and made out with other guys. I had long ago decided that I was a freak of nature and I should give up on guys because obviously it was never going to happen.

And then that happened. I mean, yes, it wasn't a kiss. It was more like a touching of lips. Like handholding or a hug. We were just touching. I thought it was nice – tender, sweet. But maybe it could turn into something more.

I flipped through my Latin notes but I was obviously distracted. I eventually gave up on Latin and closed my book in an act of defiance.

I got up from my bed and reached under it, pulling out my guitar. It was teal and shiny with thick strings and a clear sound that was almost always off-key. I lay the strap across my shoulder and strummed it with my fingers, the calluses on my fingers immune to the pain of the strings.

After about five minutes of this mindless sound, Neil walked into the room. His footsteps were almost silent; the only thing that gave him away was the quiet creaking of the door opening.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," he replied. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," I answered, and he sat on the foot of my bed, twiddling his thumbs so awkwardly I had to stifle a laugh.

"That's a pretty guitar," he said after a while. "A bit out of tune, though."

"I like it that way," I said. "It's not perfect, you know?"

He didn't say anything.

"Look, Jillian," he finally said. "When… when that happened back in my room… it's not that I didn't want to react… I just couldn't. I was so surprised…"

I nodded. "I don't think I was fully aware of anything either," I said. "It just sort of… happened."

"Definitely," he agreed. "It just caught me off guard, you know?"

"No, totally," I said. "Let's just forget it ever happened."

"Yeah," he said. "Wait, what?"

"Ummm… we could just put it behind us," I said. "I mean, we're friends."

"Oh."

I paused. "Unless…" I began just as Neil said, "I mean…"

"You go," I said.

"I just… well, I was thinking that if you wanted, we wouldn't have to forget it," he said. "I mean, these last few weeks have been really fun, really great, and I was thinking that maybe we could…" He trailed off and I smiled.

"Listen, Neil," I began. "I really like you. Like, really like you. You're smart and funny and sweet and passionate and, well, I get nervous every time I see you."

I was just about to say something else – like, maybe that Nolan had forbidden me from getting distracted by any of the boys – when he swooped down and put his lips against mine. I was pretty sure – okay, positive – that this was actually a kiss. Plus it was better than the first one because a boy had instigated it, which was way more impressive to girls than you being the one to start it.

He leaned on my chest and I fell back against my pillows. He was really kissing me now, and I was pretty sure I was kissing him back. He brought his hands to my hair and I did the same, tangling my fingers in his hair.

I wasn't quite sure what I was doing, but it felt good. I guess part of what felt so good was the fact that it was Neil. Neil was the one who had helped me get through these past few weeks at a new school. Neil was the one who I woke up every morning just to see. Neil was the one who made me laugh at the stupidest of things, the one whose passion made me feel so alive and spirited. And now he was the one who was actually interested in me, whose heart beat faster when I approached him, whose lips were now pressed against mine? It was too good to be true, to pleasurable to be good for me, and too confusing to ever be pleasurable. And yet it was all those things, everything. I dug deeper and he followed suit, until both of us were so tired and so filled with passion that we had to stop and look at each other.

Neil blushed and smiled that adorable smile.

"Wow," he said. "That was…"

"Unexpected," I filled in. "Confusing. Weird."

"Wonderful," he added, and I nodded.

"Wonderful," I agreed.

"I'm so glad… that you finally did something," he said. "That I finally did something."

I nodded, smiling. "I know. I don't know if I could have stood another second without… telling you how I feel."

The dinner bell rang.

"I should go," he said. "Get changed."

"See you at dinner," I said, putting my guitar – which I had propped neatly against the bed – into my case and sliding it under my bed.

"Are you not allowed to have that?" he asked me, looking at the bottom of my bed where my guitar case now lay.

"Not really," I admitted. "But it was the only thing I really wanted to bring. I had to sneak it into one my dozens of suitcases. It wasn't hard, really."

"So rebellious," he smiled. "Listen – a few of the guys and I – Charlie, Knox, Todd, Pitts, Cameron, Meeks – well, we kind of have this club going – the Dead Poets Society, we call it."

I must have looked skeptical.

"It's kind of against the rules," he said, rushing his words like he wanted to get everything out. "We almost got in trouble once. But we meet at night in this cave."

Why are you telling me this? I wanted to ask, but instead it came out as, "What do you guys do?"

"We read poetry, mostly. We talk about things… life… love." He smiled.

"Knox doesn't love Chris," I said. "He just thinks he does."

Neil seemed surprised at that, and I then realized what he meant. "I didn't mean Knox and Chris," he said. "Just in general."

"That sounds interesting," I said.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come tonight."

I was surprised, but I was kind of expecting it as well. "Have you asked the other boys yet?"

"No, but they won't mind. Charlie brought two girls a few months ago – tried to pass off Shakespeare as his own."

I laughed. "But just because he did it then doesn't mean you didn't mind."

He laughed with me. "They won't mind," he assured me. "Trust me."

I vaguely remembered him telling me to trust him before. It was possibly the best decision I'd ever made in my life.

"Okay," I said. "Sounds great."