by Gia Riley
Becca’s finished at her locker, but Kinsley’s still struggling to get into hers. “Let me help, what’s the combination?”
She looks up at me with her big brown eyes, thankful for the help, though a little embarrassed she couldn’t get it open on her own. “Um, it’s four, twenty-two, nine, eleven.”
I twist the lock back and forth as she rattles off each number, popping it open on the first try. “There you go, Sunny.”
“Thanks.”
“Sunny?” Becca asks. “Where’d that one come from?”
“Rhett’s picture of me.”
I wrap her in another hug. “And she smells like coconut and sunshine”.
Becca snickers. “You two have it so much worse than I thought.”
Kinsley finishes with her locker, and shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t mind the nickname. I spent a year of my life being called much worse.”
“What did they call you?”
Kinsley glares at Becca before she has a chance to open her mouth. “Don’t you even tell him, Becca,” she warns with a stern look. She’s pissed and it’s kinda cute.
“Now I have to know,” I tell them. “Who do I have to beat up for picking on you.”
My girl remains silent, so I look to Becca for an answer. “They called her flash,” she tells me, as she breaks out into a fit of hysterics.
“Why?”
Kinsley storms off. “Thanks a lot, Becca,” she murmurs.
Becca throws her hands in the air. “Oh, come on, Kinsley. It’s been like four years. Nobody even remembers anymore.”
“What does flash even mean?”
“She’s going to kill me anyway, so I might as well just tell you. On second thought, I’ll let her decide how much she tells you. To make a long story short, she forgot her underwear this one time and flashed a bunch of people.”
I tip my head back, laughing. “That’s not so bad, but I’m definitely getting her to give me the details. That’s for the info, Becca.” I hurry to catch up to Kinsley, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “Don’t worry, Sunny. I go commando sometimes, too. It’s very refreshing.”
She gasps, her hand covering her mouth before she instinctively pushes me away from her. “I can’t believe she told you! I’m going to kill her.”
Becca finally catches up, but she doesn’t stop to listen to the earful Kinsley has for her. “Text me about the game. I’ll pick you up.”
Aggravated with the both of us, Kinsley stomps off toward my truck. Only she’s going in the wrong direction. “Other way, killer,” I tell her. I make sure I stay a few steps behind her, hoping she cools down by the time I get her all to myself. We have a lot to talk about, and I don’t waste any time on stuff that doesn’t really matter.
Just as she climbs into the passenger seat, I stand next to her, helping her click her seatbelt into place. With my best puppy dog face, I reach for her hand. “Don’t be mad, Sunny.”
She tries hard not to laugh at me, but I can see a crack of a smile forming on her lips. “Will you please get in the car,” she pleads, but even I know she’s not actually mad anymore.
She’s still quiet when I pull out of the parking place. This isn’t how I wanted today to go. “Are we good? Or do I need to tease you some more to get you to talk to me?”
All at once, it comes pouring out of her. “So I forgot to wear my cover up. Big deal!” As animated as she’s ever been, her hands fly into the air as she explains the situation that earned her the title of flash. “I was a cheerleader in middle school for a hot minute. Basically until I met Mandi. Anyway, we wore maroon granny panties over our regular underwear to cover us up. It’s a safeguard so when we did jumps, and our skirts flew up, there wasn’t a show. Only I forgot to put mine on one day, and it just so happened to be the very same day I wore my first thong. I bared my naked ass cheeks to the entire gymnasium. All while they chanted, “flash, over and over again. I even chanted along with them at first because I thought they were talking about one of the guys on the court.”
It’s actually a lot worse than I thought it would be. I can only imagine how mortified she must have been once she realized what was happening. “I’m a little bit sorry I missed it. Does that make me a creep?”
She covers her face with her hands, sliding down in the seat like she’d rather melt into the floor boards than sit next to me. “I’m really glad you weren’t there. It’s bad enough half the student body was.”
I reach over and squeeze the spot on her thigh, right above her knee, that makes her squirm. “You’re feisty when you’re mad, you know.”
“My brother and sister would agree. I should probably apologize for yelling at Becca.”
“It’s actually cute. And I wouldn’t say that about most chicks. Usually, it’s enough to drive me nuts, but not you, Sunny. You make me hot.”
“Ohmigod. You did not just say that.” She sits back up, holding onto the dash she’s laughing so hard. “Wait, you were supposed to turn down Sycamore Street to get to my house.”
I glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s going back to my house. We need to talk and there’s something I want to show her. “I thought we could hang at my house.”
“Oh, I don’t know why I assumed we were going to mine,” she says, quietly.
I pull into my driveway, and help her out of the truck. She hops down, hesitantly. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I want you here.”
Holding her hand, I take her through the front door, even though we never use it, but she’s a guest and should be treated like one. First, her eyes take in the staircase that wraps around the foyer and then they end up on the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above our heads. It’s always reminded me of something that belongs in a Las Vegas hotel instead of inside a house.
“This is really nice, Rhett.”
“Thanks. My mom’s an interior designer. She redecorates constantly. Sometimes the walls change colors while I’m at school. Once I thought I walked into the neighbor’s house by mistake.”
She follows me into the kitchen where mom has a plate of chocolate chip cookies waiting along with a note. “Want a Coke?”
“Sure.”
I set a can in front of her, and when she picks it up, I notice the slight tremble to her hand. “Why are you nervous, Sunny?” My parents are at the club until the game starts. It’s just us.”
“Sorry, I’ve never done this before. Other than Becca’s house, I don’t really go many places.”
I nod my head toward the living room. “Come on, then, I want to show you something in my room.”
“Your room?” she questions. “Am I allowed up there?”
I chuckle, she’s adorable sometimes. “Yes, you’re allowed in my room.”
She follows me up the rest of the stairs, and I lead her to the last door on the left. “This is me.”
With my hand still on the knob, I wait for her to go in first. She shuffles in and stares at my bed in the center of the room. “That’s where you sleep?”
My bed is round and looks more like a giant bird nest than an actual bed. That’s why it’s not shoved up against one of the walls. “Yup.” The only pictures I bothered to hang on the wall are black and white photographs I took myself. There’s a desk in front of the window with a built in bookshelf next to it and that’s about it. It’s minimalistic to say the least.
She looks over her shoulder after she takes it all in. “This is really cool. Did you design it?”
I kick my shoes off and flop down on my bed. Patting the spot next to me, I invite her to sit down next to me. “My mom likes to decorate. She gave me a catalog to look though for the tenth time in a year, insisting I needed to fix up my boring room. I was happy with the way it was, but if she wanted a challenge, I’d give her one. I thought I was pushing my luck when I picked out some expensive, outrageous shit she would never go for. Turns out, she actually liked it. So, now I have this palace. It’s growing on me, but I’m not sure
it would have been my first choice. The bed even spins.”
“I would kill to have that kind of design freedom. I could think of a million things to do to every room in the apartment, especially to Carson’s room. He’s a nice guy, but his tastes are so boring.”
I’m not sure I like the fact that she’s been inside Carson’s room to know what his belongings look like. But I squash that fun fact and concentrate of the two of us. “I bet you’re really good at design. I saw how content you were when I took your picture.”
“I love it,” she says.
It’s really quiet, so I grab the remote lying next to my pillow and press a button. To anyone, the picture on the wall looks like a black and white piece of art. But once the button’s pressed, it changes from art to a flat screen TV. Jeopardy lights up the screen, my favorite game show of all time. If only Turd Ferguson was on today.
“You watch Jeopardy?”
I pretend to be offended. “I’m not just a pretty face, Kinsley.”
This time, we’re both laughing. “Okay, sorry,” she says.
“I’m just messing with you, but how about a friendly wager.”
“What kind of wager?”
I come up with a ridiculous game on the fly, but I get the impression my girl needs an ice breaker—something to help her relax while she’s with me. “For each question I get right, I get to kiss you.”
“And what about the ones I get right? Do I have to kiss you?”
“You don’t have to, but I hope you want to.”
She thinks about it for a second, even tilting her head to the side the slightest bit like she’s trying to figure out if there’s a catch. Eventually, she says, “So either way, we’re kissing.”
“Yeah, unless we both get the question wrong—then we suffer. But it’s Teen Jeopardy week, so we should get some right at least. I mean, I’m pretty smart, but you’ll have to try hard to keep up with me,” I joke, playfully.
“Okay, you’re on, Rhett.”
I tug on her arm a little bit. “Come over here.”
She kicks her shoes off and climbs across the mattress until she’s resting in the crook of my arm. She fits next to me like she’s always belonged there, and I realize this game isn’t going to be as easy as I thought it was. Now that she’s close, all I want to do is scoop her up and hold her, forgetting about the game entirely.
But as soon as the first question flashes on the screen, it’s game on. “What famous document begins: "When in the course of human events. .?”
I yell out, “The Declaration of Independence!”
“Wrong!” She yells, even though it’s the right answer.
“Why is it wrong?”
“You forgot to say, “what is” before your answer. No kiss for you.”
“Okay, fine, but give me a chance to redeem myself. I’m not a quitter.”
The next question is up. “What Alabama city saw state troopers attack Civil Rights marchers on Edmund Pettis Bridge?”
“What is Selma!” I yell with excitement. I got it right and remembered her rule. “I owe you a kiss, Kinsley West.”
She pushes up on her elbow so she’s looking down at me, and for a minute, I think she’s about to cash in without waiting for me to kiss her first. “Now?”
“Now’s good.” I cup her cheek in my hand, not even caring we’re missing questions. I have what I want already. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever kissed, Sunny.” My lips inch closer to hers, but right before I have her, she turns her head, giving me her cheek instead.
“I’m sorry,” she says, hopping off my bed, and reaching for her sneakers. “I should go.”
“What’s wrong? I wasn’t trying to pressure you. You know that, right?”
She concentrates on her shoe laces, not even looking at me when she speaks. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. I just can’t do this.”
Before I know what’s even happening, she’s running out of my bedroom toward the stairs. I’m hot on her heels for the simple fact that she can’t keep running away from me like this. Not until she explains why it keeps happening. “Talk to me, Sunny. What’s going on?”
She runs her fingers through my hair, both frustrated and angry, but I can’t figure out why. What did I do to make her so upset when we were fine a minute before? She doesn’t look like she wants me to touch her, but I do anyway, resting my hands on her shoulders. “Tell me, Sunny. I want to make this better.”
“I don’t want to run away from you, Rhett. I really don’t.”
I rub her back the way I did in class this morning. “Then don’t. Stay with me.”
“Can we sit down on the couch for a minute? I’m sorry.”
“We can go anywhere you want. I don’t want you to leave, but I don’t want you to be upset, either.”
“The couch is fine.”
I lead her over to the sectional, sitting her on my lap. “Start at the beginning and don’t say it’s nothing—because it’s definitely something.”
She nods her head, and I sigh in relief. I’m not sure I could take another rejection from her when I’m trying to show her how much I care about her.
“Yesterday in your car, that was my first time.” She pauses, her voice quivering as she says the words to me. “You were my first kiss, Rhett.”
I lean my head back against the couch, closing my eyes as I whisper to myself. “Shit.” Kinsley shifts on my lap, and I realize I need to say something to her. Something that isn’t a swear word. “You mean you’ve never done anything—like ever?”
My sweet girl shakes her head and I can see the moment she panics, the moment she assumes I’m not going to want a thing to do with her now that I know how inexperienced she is. She stands up, immediately pulling my jersey over her head and handing it back to me. “I’ll call Carson for a ride.”
Is she crazy? “Whoa, wait a minute. You’re not leaving.” I didn’t want Carson near her before, but now that she’s told me she’s as pure as they come, I don’t even want his name to fall from her lips.
She wrings her hands together, nervously. “You don’t want me to leave?”
“No, not at all. Sit down, please.” I hand my jersey back to her. “And put this back on. I still want you to wear it to the game.”
“Really?”
I wait for her to pull her head through the hole, and once it’s back where it belongs, I continue. “I had no idea, Kinsley. I assumed you were experienced. I mean, I was hoping you weren’t, but if I had known last night was your first kiss, it wouldn’t have happened in my truck.”
“Does everyone assume I’m a slut because I don’t have parents telling me what not to do?”
Laughing, I shake my head. She took what I said the wrong way. “No, Sunny. Nobody thinks that. I assumed it because I’m attracted to you, and I know a lot of guys in school are, too. I never thought I’d be the first one to kiss your lips.”
“Now you’re talking nonsense, Rhett.”
“You don’t see yourself the way I do, but trust me, I wouldn’t make it up, and I really wouldn’t want to be with you if you were a slut. I mean, flash was kind of a slut, but -.” She smacks me in the chest before I can continue. As hard as I try not to laugh, I can’t hold it in.
“She was slutty, wasn’t she. I still can’t believe I did that.”
“Shit happens, but let’s talk about this kiss.”
She groans like it’s a painful topic. Nothing about kissing Sunny will ever be painful. It only hurts when I can’t kiss her. “Do we have to?”
“We have to, Kinsley. I should have done so much better. Your first kiss should be so awesome you run home and write about it in your little, pink diary. The one with the tiny metal key you keep under your pillow.” Again, she laughs at me. I assumed all chicks had a diary. At least they always seem to in the movies.
“I don’t have a diary, Rhett. At least not since I was ten.”
“Well, even if you don’t, you should want to gossip about it—like girls do. Di
d you tell Becca we kissed?”
She looks down at her hands again, biting on her bottom lip. “Not really.”
“Because it wasn’t memorable. See, I gotta do better.”
“It was memorable, Rhett. I was just terrible at it, and didn’t want anyone to know I messed it up. That’s why I ran away. You caught me off guard, and then I panicked.”
She’s gone an entire day thinking she’s a terrible kisser. “You’re really serious right now? Kissing you was awesome, Sunny. Really fuckin’ awesome.”
“You don’t want to hurt my feelings, so you’re being nice.”
“Holding a door for you is nice. Carrying your backpack is nice, too. Nothing about kissing you is nice. It’s the best thing ever.” I inch my way toward her. She gets one warning this time. “I’m going to kiss you again, right now.”
I reach out for her porcelain skin, holding her face like it could shatter if I’m not careful. This kiss is already more intimate than our first. I’m not holding her so she can’t run away. I’m holding her because she deserves to be cherished.
Never taking her eyes off me, she leans into my arms, slowly licking her lips with her tongue. My eyes fixate on that bottom lip of hers as her teeth rake over it ever so slightly. I watch her until I’m too close to see and can only feel.
We start out slow, and like I told her before, nothing about kissing her is nice. As her lips tangle with mine, she gains more and more confidence. Little by little she stops worrying and starts feeling it the way I am. Already it’s ten times better than the kiss we shared in my truck—this is the one that matters. This kiss is our game changer.
I show her with each swipe of my tongue exactly how much I want her—that she’s mine. Laying her down on the cushions, I’m careful not to put my weight on her as I move over top of her, but she’s latched onto my shirt so tightly, she doesn’t give me a choice to go anywhere other than where I’m at.
My arms are shaking from holding myself up for so long, but I don’t want to stop kissing her. I pull away for a second, my eyes darting back and forth between her lips and her gorgeous brown eyes. A slow, easy smile breaks out on my face. “You’re sure you’ve never done that before, Sunny?”
