Max

There are certain kisses in life that just stand out. Usually the first, the best, the worst. But no matter what, there is that one kiss that you compare every other kiss to.

My first kiss was technically on the preschool playground when I was four. I don't remember it, and I think anything before seventh grade doesn't count as a real kiss, and I don't even know who it was with. We were just playing house on the playground, and I was the mom, and he was the dad, and we kissed.

My first real kiss was the summer after eighth grade and before freshman year. It was with a guy named Drew who was a year older than me. We met at the public swimming pool, continued running into each other, and eventually went to a movie. It was the cliche kiss that's in the middle of a movie where both people's lips are salty from popcorn and cold from Icees.

I kissed Tyler numerous times when we dated. The first time was at his prom when he was a junior and I was a sophomore. And there were many following that.

The one kiss from Tyler that really stood out to me wasn't even the best. Tyler was a senior and I was a junior at this point, and he was a good kisser. This kiss shouldn't have even technically counted.

My junior year I had the flu during prom, and so I couldn't go. I was sitting at home watching TV, the dress I'd picked hanging up in my closet, and I was bored out of my mind. Tyler came over and, since I was sick, just gave me a little peck on the cheek before we sat down on the couch and watched a bunch of scary movies.

But none of my past kisses had anything on kissing Fang.

Kissing Fang was...bliss. His lips were soft and gentle, but at the same time rough and urgent. One hand tangled up in my hair, and the other was at the small of my back, keeping my body as close as physically possible to his. My lips parted, and so did his, and my knees felt so weak that I was afraid I would collapse right then and there, just pass out.

How embarrassing would that be?

When we finally pulled apart, I bit my cheek and looked down at my feet. I looked up and saw that Fang was biting the inside of his cheek too, to keep from smiling. Like, really smiling. Not his twitchy smirk thing.

"Rematch!" I yelled suddenly, quickly snatching up the ball from where it'd landed.

"But I beat you the first time," Fang said. It wasn't a whiney voice, but it was the closest Fang would come to one. He smirked suddenly. "What's the winner get this time?"

"What do you think?" I dribbled the ball and said, "All the rules are the same, so is the winner's prize."

"You're on."

XxX

The next day was Saturday and, since Fang and I stayed out till five in the morning playing game after game of ball, I slept until one in the afternoon. Which, needless to say, didn't really make my mom's day.

"Max!" Mom yelled.

"Hmm?" I managed to groan. I had just woken up and was holding my phone, reading texts I'd missed from friends. And Fang.

"Get your butt out of bed! The pancakes are cold by now!"

I rolled my eyes and stayed where I was, knowing full well that if I just ignored her, Mom would leave me alone. I continued going through my texts for a while, and then I got up.

I threw on some sweats and a T-shirt, grabbed my car keys, told Mom where I was headed, and then I was out of there.

But not before I sent a text to wish Iggy luck at his game. Against Fang.

Fang

"So when do we get to meet this mystery girl?" Jon asked while we were warming up for the game.

Our game was fairly early for Districts. It was one-thirty and we had ten more minutes to warm up before we got going with the national anthem and then the actual game.

"What mystery girl?" I asked as I took a shot. It was a two-pointer, a somewhat easy shot for me, and it didn't go through the hoop.

"Fang." Jon grabbed the ball that I was getting ready to take, and made me listen to him. "Your shots have been off all day. They haven't been this bad since you were hungover at senior night last year."

"Thanks, man," I said, and I grabbed the ball from his hands, taking - and missing - another shot.

I glanced over at the door to see Max walking in, holding her phone and glancing around to see if she knew anybody. She saw me, smiled and waved, and headed over to the Nixon student section.

I figured my shots were so off because I knew I would be playing Max's little brother. I wanted my team to win like no other (this was Sectionals we were talking about) but I also knew Max wanted her brother to do well. And I knew it would be bad for her either way.

And let me say, honestly, that no girl had ever made me feel conflicted about winning. Ever. In my life.

I went back to warming up, making about ten percent of the shots I took. And I usually make, like, ninety-nine point nine nine percent of the shots I take.

Coach came over, looking furious, and said, "What the hell's the deal, Walker?"

"I'm just having an off day, Coach," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Coach seriously looked like he wanted to punch me, and usually his solution to a problem like this was to make us run twenty laps. But being as how we had a total of seven more minutes to warm up, and people were starting to arrive, he couldn't exactly do that.

"This isn't the time for an off day, Walker," Coach hissed. "Figure out what the problem is. Hell, go grab some food if that will solve it. Just figure out what the hell is going on and fix it." Coach turned and stomped away furiously.

Taking his advice, I jogged up into the Nixon student section, getting more dirty looks in those five seconds than in my whole life.

"What?" Max asked when I reached her at the top, and she stood up.

I saw that she had a special brace on her knee, so I figured she'd run to the doctor finally. I would ask her what the diagnosis was, but after the game, after I figured out this issue.

"Tell me that you won't hate me if we win," I spit out. I knew everybody on my team and everybody that went to Nixon was looking, which pretty much meant the cat was out of the bag.

"What?" Max shook her head, exhaling in what was almost a laugh. "Seriously, Fang? My team beat yours, which probably had tons of your friends on it, and I never asked for permission. Of course I won't hate you if you win. Play hard, because my brother will be too."

I smiled, feeling instantly better. I ducked down to kiss her, not caring in that moment who was looking, but she put a hand on my shoulder to stop me.

"You're all sweaty," she laughed. "Now get out there and win yourself a District title."

Max

"Congratulations," I said to Fang as soon as he came out of the locker room after the game. He'd put on some jeans and a basketball T-shirt, and his hair was damp from the quick shower he'd taken.

"Thanks." Fang put an arm around my shoulder as we walked out, and everybody - everybody - was looking at us. But I didn't really care. "How's your brother?"

"Iggy?" I shook my head, laughing. "Oh he's fine. Better than fine, actually. None of the Nixon guys really wanted to win, 'cause there's a big party the night of Sectionals that they didn't want to miss." I shrugged, getting in the passenger side of Fang's car. "I guess that just proves how much more dedicated girls are."

"Ha ha." Fang turned on his radio as we started to head toward the little pizza restaraunt we were going to. "Don't get cocky, Max." He raised one eyebrow in a way that was playful, and it made my heart flop a little bit.

Oh, God. I was becoming such a...such a girl.

Finals week! Ugh!

School gets out in two days. I move in nine. How sad is this?

Story time! I was doing a double into the pit at practice last night, because sometimes I land it but it's not 100% yet, and I coughed right in the middle of my backhandspring. Needless to say the whole thing was a total fail, but I tripped right into the pit and survived! Yay!

Don't forget to vote on the poll on my profile, please.

And let's all pray for the families that were affected by the tornadoes in Joplin, Minneapolis, and the other midwest towns hit.