Chapter 2

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I've kissed Savannah only once. It was at a party. We were drunk, but I was conscious enough for it to be on my mind constantly. I remember it like a happy, distant childhood memory. She approached me with the smell of alcohol on her lips, but not masking the  strong smell of lemongrass. It was long and tender. I wanted to shout it to the rooftops, but I couldn't breathe a word of this to anyone. I don't want anyone to know. She probably doesn't even remember it herself.

Though, maybe I'm glad she doesn't remember? It would make things awkward, cringey, and I would never forgive myself if that were to happen. At this party, I took a photo of us on my poloroid camera, right after the kiss, I don't think she knows this either, but I've treasured it. She looks so happy. Her dark eyes were lit like a night-sky and her smile radiated around like the sun. She was with me, and that made her happy at that moment. I just wish I could make her that happy all the time.

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