1.1 | Cherry Knots ✓

02 | novice

0 2

n o v i c e

He was the last person I expected to meet that afternoon. I was heading out of school, struggling with some last-minute worksheets that I had forgotten to stuff into my folder. As I passed the gates, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the wall.

It was Declan, his posture relaxed and calm as he surveyed me slowly, his arms folded across his expansive chest. When he spotted me, his expression lit up.

"Oh, there you are," He greeted, as if I was a missing person. I failed to mention how that was, indeed, the exact way I felt at times. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"What's up?"

Declan pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to me. "You are," He said, lifting his hand towards me. "Did you do this?"

I spotted the flash of cherry red as soon as his palm unclasped, the perfect knot sitting on the calloused bowl of his hand.

My first instinct was to lie. "No."

"Bullshit," Declan retorted, fairly quickly. "I saw you take it out of your mouth when I was leaving the class."

"And you've been carrying this knot around for the whole day?"

"So you did make the knot, then?" His gleaming, triumphant eyes told me there was no use arguing with him. Oh, what the hell, it wasn't that big a deal.

"Well, yes," I admitted, hitching my bag higher up my shoulder as it began to slip off. "But that knot was in my mouth for minutes. It's coated with germs and saliva, and that's just bloody gross, Declan. Throw it away."

Declan shrugged, chucking the cherry knot into a nearby bin, and said quite seriously, "Fine, but I need your help."

I eyed him suspiciously. There was no knowing what Declan was going to say, or do, he was as unpredictable as the wind, a hurricane too wild and reckless to handle. "What is it, then?"

"Teach me how to kiss."

It was difficult to take Declan seriously, especially since he was a master at cracking stupid jokes. Stunned, I stared at him for a long moment before saying incredulously, "That's not funny."

"I'm not being funny," He replied, in annoyance, passing a frustrated hand through his curls. "I need you to teach me how to kiss."

I gaped at him. Clearly, he'd had gone bat-shit crazy. "What does that even mean?"

"I'm shite at kissing," he stated, exasperation lacing his voice as he struggled to explain. "I don't know what it is with me, but I'm always too chicken to kiss a girl when we're dating, or I go in and accidentally bonk her head or do something stupid. And, obviously, you're good at kissing since you can tie a cherry knot with your bloody tongue!"

My mind was in a whirl. I'd seen Declan with his arms draped around different girls for so long that I never realised he had his own fair share of problems. I never realised that maybe, just maybe, he had his insecurities as well.

"Tying a cherry knot means nothing!" I told him, patiently. "It doesn't define whether you're a good kisser or not."

"Well, kiss me and find out."

Right, that was it. Declan had officially lost his mind.

"Excuse me?" I stuttered out, at last.