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covers his, rides along as it
travels my cheek again, this
time all the way down to
the corner of my lips. I kiss
his fingertips before yanking
myself out of the moment.
“Uh … where’s Matt, anyway?”
I let my hand drop. His should
too. But it doesn’t. He’ll be here
later. Dentist appointment.
MY ACTIONS
Imply regret, but we both know
I’m not sorry for what just happened.
Hastily withdrawn affection or no,
we both understand I want to touch
Kyle again. Almost as much as I want
him to touch me again. I need to
say something, but can find
no words to convey the burst
of emotions I’m feeling. Guilt.
Lust. Remorse. Intrigue. Perhaps
most of all, I have an intense
desire to see where Kyle’s small
gesture of concern might lead.
But what should I do now?
Best answer: nothing. Pretend
it didn’t happen. “Bell’s gonna ring.”
I’ll walk you to your locker.
He keeps his body very close.
Protectively close. Almost
