03 | basics

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b a s i c s


WE WERE AN hour into our first kissing lesson when I realised that Declan was hopeless at cherry knotting.

I scrunched up my nose in distaste at the sight of the discarded cherry stems in the wastepaper basket. Some were mashed to pieces, others broken cleanly in half. None of them looked the least bit knotted.

"I give up," Declan said, flatly, at last, collapsing onto my bed in defeat. "This is too damn bloody hard. Either that or I'm the worst kisser in the world."

He looked so discouraged that I felt the need to comfort him. Besides, he could not possibly be the worst kisser in the world if he made butterflies erupt in my stomach with just one kiss. I could still hardly look at him without feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.

"Let's try an alternate method," I suggested, patting his knee comfortingly.

"Do I get to kiss you again?" Declan asked, gazing at me hopefully from his position on the pillow.

Despite my intention to feign annoyance at what he said, I couldn't help but laugh. He seemed so eager when he said that. "No, I'll just walk you through the basics of kissing. That should be simple enough, right?"

"That's just the theory," Declan mused, with a wide grin. "What about the practical?"

"Slow down, big boy, you can do your practical on some other girl who's willing."

"Like you?"

There was no denying it, the thought of kissing Declan again had crossed my mind. I flushed, much to my aggravation and to the amusement of Declan, who let out a chuckle that was grating to my ears.

"Shut up," I snapped, in annoyance. "Or you're going to have to find some other girl to teach you."

"Ah, but you didn't deny it. So you wanted us to kiss again, didn't you?"

The knowing smirk curved his lips again, his eyes gleamed. He sat up, and leaned forward. Little tufts of hair fell into his eyes, and his lips looked warm and unexpectedly inviting. His hand reached up to cup my cheek and, still smirking, leaned in.

It was an all too familiar flutter in my stomach, an all too familiar trance that I was sinking into. I knew it, yet I knew not how to get out of it.

But it surprised me that his voice was unexpectedly gentle when he murmured, "Bloody hell, El, just admit it already - "

"Alright, that's it." My senses kicked in at the very last second, and I stood up abruptly, dragging him off my bed. "Out you go."

"Wait - wait, what? What did I do?" He complained loudly, but I was already pulling him out of the room, down the stairs and towards the front door. I pushed his coat into his hands, and yanked open the door.

"What did I do?" He looked completely flummoxed.

"First of all," I said, stiffly, one hand on the doorknob. "You don't get to kiss me whenever you like. Secondly, you smoke. It's like kissing a bloody ashtray, and I don't appreciate that. So until you get your breath to smell a little bit better, we're never going to kiss. That probably means never, considering what a chain smoker you are. Goodbye, Declan."

And with that, I slammed the door in his face. But it wasn't because of him taking liberties with me, or the fact that he tasted of tobacco.

No, and as I leaned against the door, my heart racing and my eyes shut tightly, I realised that it was going all too quickly. For a second there, he had almost tricked me into kissing him again. I fell too easily, that was the problem, and I needed to be careful.

Flicking the latch on the door shut, I reminded myself that I had already let it happen once.

Never again.


                                    ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

During lunch that day, I was not alone. I had been, for about the first fifteen minutes or so, until someone set their tray on my table, before sliding into the bench opposite mine. I glanced up, alarmed to see the familiar curly-haired boy seating himself down at the table. Because even though Declan and I were acquaintances, he and I still stuck to our separate social circles.

"What're you doing?" I asked, suspiciously.

"I'm putting myself in isolation," He replied shortly, plunging his fork into the bit of potato on his plate viciously. "Away from everyone else."

"I fail to see how sitting with me is being 'isolated'."

He practically growled at me. "Don't piss me off. I'm in a shite mood today, and it's no thanks to you."

"What are - " I trailed off, realising what was happening at long last. His fingers drummed on the table anxiously, he seemed distracted, out-of-sorts. He just wasn't himself today. And I finally knew the reason why.

I honestly had no idea what to say, or think, or feel. If I was being truthful, it awed me that Declan had actually listened to what I said. I had said that on the spur of the moment, went off on a random tangent just to stop my erratic heart from beating too quickly.

But he had taken my words to heart. He had stopped smoking, and was in a foul mood, suffering from withdrawals. All because of me.

Reaching across the table, I tentatively touched his fingers briefly. "Are you okay?"

His gaze flickered down to where our hands made contact, and I quickly shifted my hand away. His voice was rough as he said, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

I let a smile graze my lips. "You're really serious about this kissing thing, aren't you?"

He shot me a very unamused look.

"Okay. Well, you're halfway there," I said, encouragingly. "Kissing includes all five senses. Girls sometimes shut their eyes when they're being kissed. That minuses the visual aspect of kissing, and that simply heightens the rest of their senses."

Declan was listening with the utmost attention, and I tried to stifle a smile at how serious he was being. He seldom showed this amount of interest in anything else.

"You have auditory - the girl gets turned on my the groans you make," I continued, "Then there's tactile, some girls like playing with the hair at the nape of the guy's neck."

"You know, girls like playing with my curls," He informed me, in a very conversational way, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

It was all I could do to keep from blushing bright red at his comment - because even though he didn't know it, he was right, so right. I was a complete sucker for guys with curls. And Declan had that down to a tee.

I glared at him, and he quickly subsided. "Olfactory, where the mere smell of the guy, like the aftershave or the shampoo turns the girl on. And last but not least, gustatory, meaning how you taste. And I'm sure you taste a lot better right now since you haven't smoked."

He chuckled. "Actually, no, I probably taste a lot worse because I'm eating onion rings right now." And to prove his point, he popped one of the aforementioned food into his mouth.

Scrunching my nose in distaste, I shook my head. "Well, then, you might want to pop in a breath mint before our next lesson."

"So we're going to kiss again?"

He looked so hopeful I had to resist the urge to laugh. "Don't get your hopes up, big boy."

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