Anomaly

Your Song

Jenn's previous sloppy make-out session and Alora's businesslike peck had left me underwhelmed by the concept of kissing. They had been nice, I supposed, but hadn't invoked the fireworks or butterflies or passion that I had heard about.

Now I understood the hype.

This kiss wasn't skin meeting skin. It was a soul meeting another soul. I felt her. All of her tangled emotions – longing, fear, passion, desperation – I felt everything. And I gave her everything in return. I didn't hold back, didn't hide anything from her.

Yet somehow, everything still wasn't enough. I pulled her closer to me, gripping her so hard that for a second, I worried that she might break. But she melted against me, her body offering no resistance as she gripped me back with the same force.

And yet, that also wasn't enough. Everything I did to try to quell this new fire within me simply added gasoline to the blaze.

It was only when I dropped my hand to her lower back that Alora finally pulled away. "We should slow down," she said softly.

Slow down?

I didn't want to slow down. I wanted her in every way a person could possibly want another person. The sudden loss of contact actually felt painful.

"Why?" I asked, resting my forehead against hers.

"Maybe because we're in the middle of our school parking lot," she whispered back.

To be honest, I had completely forgotten that.

"Can we go to your place?" I asked.

Alora stiffened at first but ultimately nodded.

I tried to offer my sweatshirt on the walk, but she simply laughed and told me that I needed it more. And it wasn't a long walk. It only took a few minutes to arrive at her trailer home.

This was the first time Alora had let me into her house. It was something I could sense she was insecure about, so I hadn't pushed it. And now that she was finally letting me in, I knew I had to be as non-judgmental as possible.

It was a challenge.

The kitchen had Pepto-Bismol pink walls and a burnt orange tile floor. Instead of curtains, the windows were covered with sun-bleached, lime green mandala tapestries. The frayed carpet was a yellowish color that might have been white at some point, and the heavily stained couch Terra was sprawled out on, asleep, was baby blue.

It looked as though a knock-off rainbow had thrown up on the inside of the trailer.

"My room is back here," Alora said quietly, gesturing down a hallway.

"Is she okay?" I asked, pointing to Terra.

Alora nodded. "She had a party last night that went until 4 in the morning, so she's just tired."

I glanced around at the tiny interior of the trailer. "How can she have a party in here without keeping you up?"

"She can't," Alora answered flatly. "Come on."

She led me down an extremely narrow hallway to a small room at the back of the trailer. One corner featured a mattress covered by a ragged quilt. A small desk in the other corner faced it. That was it. Her entire room could easily fit inside the master bathroom in the house where I was staying.

Alora's closet had no door, so I could see it was also very empty. But an old guitar sitting inside caught my attention.

"You play guitar?"

She nodded. "It was my mom's. She was really good...much better than me."

I glanced at the desk, which had papers scattered on top of it.