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Mark and I sit in silence, the credits of Poetic Justice plays. The clock reads 5:27 PM. I pick at my nail, the movement of Mark's leg causes his bed to creak. I shift closer to him and accidentally, on purpose brush my hand against his thigh. He mimics my actions and moves even closer to me. I feel the warmth of his breath. There is only a few inches between us. We have never been so close. I have never been so close to anyone, not like this. Our breathing is synched, his breath smells like orange halls.

I look up at the clock, it reads 5:29. I feel Mark's gaze. A sudden boldness comes over me, I turn to him. I lean in and press my lips against his. I have been waiting for this moment for two months. This entire summer of hanging out with our friends, the late night phone conversations and the telling drunk texts he sent after Sierra's birthday party has led to this. He places his hand at the back of my neck and rubs his thumb against it. All the nerves about how my first kiss would be vanishes. I pull away and gaze at him, his eyes are closed. "Is everything okay?" Mark ask. I smile and grab his face, pulling him back in for another kiss.

Somehow I end up into his lap, we are leveled, face to face. He rest his hands on my waist. For a few moments his hands tremble then relax. I enjoy his arms around me. They were comforting. He traces my spine with his fingers, more than once. It feels as though shocks of electricity is running throughout my body. A feeling so euphoric. I gasp under his touch.

"Do you have to move away?" I whimpered.

He pulls away from me and sighs, our foreheads touching, "You know the answer." For a moment, we stay in this position, motionless.

I lift myself off his lap and walk towards his bedroom door. "You don't have to go right now." He pleads. "My parents are probably wondering where I'm at." I leave the room, leaving the door open.

I walked down the stairs, almost hitting my toe against the packed box marked 'Dad's trophies'. Half packed containers and cardboard boxes sprawl across Mark's kitchen and living room. I start to cry and continue to make my way down and out of the house.

I hear footsteps behind me as I get outside. The car in the driveway unlocks. Mark goes into the driver's seat and starts the vehicle. I attempt to wipe away the falling tears . I open the passenger door, not making eye contact with him. We sit in silence for a few seconds, he is staring at me. I refuse to meet his gaze, he puts his hand on the back of my seat and places his free hand under my chin, his lips close to mine. I pull away, "Let's just go."

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