Resolutions

          He said something to you, but I didn’t hear him, nor did I hear your response. He pushed me off of his lap so he could stand up and go into the kitchen. I didn’t care; I had just had my first kiss. I had waited eighteen years for my first kiss, and I had given it to Matt and his slimy tongue.

          You watched him go into the kitchen, shaking your head and sighing. Nicole and John were still making out on the couch –as were most of the couples, but I just sat there where he left me; wanting to go home, brush my teeth, and go to sleep.

          You walked over and sat on the arm of the couch, looking down and smiling at me.

          “Happy New Year!” you said, sounding cheerful, but you didn’t look as happy as you sounded.

          I smiled at you in return. It was a dimmed smile –I wasn’t in the best of moods, thanks to Matt. “Happy New Year, Jordan.” I returned, trying –like you were, to sound happy.

          “Are you having a good New Year’s Eve celebration?” you had asked me, and I didn’t know how to answer, so I just shrugged.

          “What about you?” I asked, “Why didn’t you have a special someone to kiss at midnight?”

          You returned my shrug, hesitated to speak, then finally sighed and said, “She isn’t my special someone to kiss.”

          I wanted to ask you what you had meant by that. I wanted to tell you that she would be lucky to be the one you want to kiss. I wanted to keep talking to you instead of kissing Matt, but that’s when he returned from the kitchen.

          Matt came back, drink in hand, slapping you on the back before sitting down next to me and throwing an arm around my shoulder. I wanted to shrug it off, but I had come with him –I didn’t want to be rude.

          He started talking to you about something –I wasn’t sure, I was too busy focusing on his wandering hand and the way it always seemed to find my breast. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get up, walk out the door, and go home. His big hand was too much, too strong, too persistent.

          I wanted that night to be over.

          I stood up then, turning around and telling him that I wanted to go home, that I was tired, and that my night was over. He was angry. He was expecting more from me that night, more than a kiss, more than I would ever give him. Matt told me that he wasn’t leaving, that his night wasn’t over, and that I could find my own way home.

          You were my savior.

          “I’ll take you home.” You had said, jumping from the arm of the couch and walking toward the door, “It’s no problem.”

          I smiled at you, giving Matt one last look before following you out into the cold night air.

          “Thanks Jordan,” I said to you, tightening my jacket around my torso, “you really don’t have to go out of your way like this just for me, I’m sure I’ll find a way home.”

          But you insisted. You said that it was your pleasure and not to worry, so I did as you asked. You were better company than Matt, after all.

          So we got into your car, and you drove me home.

          “Do you have a New Year’s Resolution?” you had asked me as we drove the quiet streets of my neighborhood.

          I grimaced, “No more kissing.” Just the memory of Matt’s tongue was enough to make me not want to kiss anyone for a long time.

          You laughed at that, shaking your head and turning onto my narrow street. “That bad, huh?” you asked as you shot me a sidelong glance.

          I nodded, shuddering at the feeling of Matt’s hands on me, “Worse.”

          My house was at the end of the street, in a haphazard cul-de-sac where it dead ended, and as you turned into the small cul-de-sac where my house sat, I turned to you and asked you the same question. “What’s you New Year’s Resolution, then?”

          You remained silent as you pulled into my driveway and cut the engine. Turning your body in your seat to face me you said, “I don’t know, I can’t think of one.”

          “I think yours should be to go after what you want. To really think about what you want and do what it takes to get it.”

          You were quiet, contemplating my suggestion as you continued to stare at me.

          “Really?”

          “Really.” I nodded.

          You were still quiet as we stepped out of your car and walked to my front door.

          I hated the silence.

          “That was my first kiss!” I blurted it out to you with no thought, immediately blushing bright red with embarrassment.

          “Tonight? With Matt? Really?” You seemed astonished, like you couldn’t believe it. That only made me blush harder.

           I looked at the ground, fidgeting with my fingers as I nodded, “Yes. I wanted it to be special, you know? And what’s more special than a kiss at midnight on New Year’s?” I shrugged again, “Guess I was wrong.”

          You didn’t respond, and when I looked up, you were staring straight into my eyes as we stood outside my doorstep in the middle of the night. Your eyes were a bright brown as they sparkled with the stars while you were looking into my eyes –not staring at my lips or my breasts, but my eyes.

          “Do you think its midnight somewhere in the world right now?” You had whispered to me, your hand coming up to rest lightly on my face –not my breasts; and your thumb slowly caressing my cheek.

          I barely nodded, my face still burning from my blush, my heart pounding, and my eyes locked on yours. “I hope so.”

          You smiled at me, your face leaning toward mine almost hesitantly but with a certain determination to your movements. “It feels like midnight to me.” You whispered, your warm breath fanning my face moments before your lips met mine.

          It was a soft kiss; slow, sweet, tender. You didn’t use your tongue, your hand stayed on my face, gently stroking my cheek, and you tasted like cinnamon, not pizza. You didn’t moan, or grip, lick, grope or grind. You kissed me. And when it ended, you sighed a happy sigh and caressed my cheek once more, before stepping back and smiling at me. You kissed me at some time past midnight that New Year’s Eve two years ago –our first kiss –and it was perfect.

          “Happy New Year, Jordan.” I said as I stepped closer to my front door.

          You smiled again, walking backward toward your car, “Happy New Year, Ava.”

The End

50% Real life, 50% Fantasy

Dedicated to BeyondReality. Both her short stories are amazing and emotional and inspired me to write this about five minutes after finishing both of them, so go read her stories! :)

As always, feedback is encouraged!