You're The Reason//Michael Clifford

Three.

I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing a million miles an hour from the kiss Michael and I shared on the roof of our old tree house. What was that? Spur of the moment? Why can't I seem to shake this strange feeling off? Just like this morning, when Michael made the comment that I was already beautiful enough, I couldn't help but think about it all day. Sure, he's always called me beautiful while growing up, but this time it felt different to me. Maybe I'm being naive? I'm definitely being naive. Of course Michael would feel obligated to feed me compliments or try to kiss me on the roof of our tree house.

"You know, if you're that worried about your first kiss, I could kiss you," Michael shrugged, sitting in a bean bag across from me, eating a bag of Doritos.

"Yeah, but your breath probably stinks. Especially after eating those chips." I sassed, not really taking his offer serious.

He rolled the bag of chips up, putting them aside and using his jeans to clean off his hands, "No, I'm being serious. I've never kissed anyone. You've never kissed anyone. We could be each other's first kiss."

My heart started to pound from my nerves getting the best of me, "My mom and dad always say that you have to love someone to kiss."

Michael stuck out his bottom lip, thinking for a second, "Well, I love you. You're my best friend. So it's okay that we kiss, right?"

I gave it a thought, "I guess so."

Michael scooted closer to me and whispered, "I've seen this in a movie once," and he cupped my face in his hands and closed the gap between us. The kiss lasted a few seconds before I felt something wet poke at my lip. I pulled away in disgust and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, "It was fine until something wet poked me!"

Michael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "What? It was just my tongue!"

My phone beeped, letting me know that I had a new text message.

BRD: Why are you laughing? I can hear you snorting. Don't you know you have neighbors that keep their windows open?

I couldn't stop laughing as I texted back a reply.

Chevrolet: If you had a problem with the beautiful sound of my laughter, you would have closed your window minutes ago.

A few seconds later, my phone beeped again.

BRD: What's so funny anyways?

Instead of replying, I went over to my window and whisper yelled for Michael. I couldn't see him but I heard him groan and thudded footsteps before he came into view. He sat down in front of the window and I laughed, "Do you remember the night we first kissed?"

Michael chuckled, "How could I forget? You were so disgusted with me because I used tongue."

"I wasn't disgusted, I wasn't expecting you to try to shove your tongue down my throat."

"I was seven, I watched movies and I was nervous! Leave me and my tongue alone." Michael stuck his tongue out at me.

We both laughed before Michael said, "Just to be clear, I've gotten better at kissing."

"From where? Practicing on your hand?"

He looked at me with an unamused look, "No, as a matter of fact. I've grown out of that stage. I've kissed other girls besides you."

The thought of Michael kissing someone else gave me a weird feeling. The feeling of jealousy, almost. I pushed those unwanted feelings aside and said, "You don't have to prove yourself to me, you know. I know the real truth."

"What truth is that?" Michael cocked his head sideways, waiting for a response from me.

I smirked, "You still suck at kissing."

There was a long silence between us. I watched as Michael licked his lips, looking as though he was deep in thought. He was thinking about something but before I could ask any more questions, Michael was crawling through my window.

"Michael, what are you doing? Are you crazy? If my devil of a step-mom hears you, you are-" Michael had me cornered against the wall, his hands on the wall on either side of me. He was staring at me, looking from my eyes to my lips before closing his eyes and leaning in.

The feeling of his lips pressed against mine made me feel whole. Like he was the missing piece of my puzzle. He deepened the kiss by pulling me closer to him, resting his hands on my hips and tracing invisible shapes with his thumbs. Our mouths moved in sync for what felt like centuries, which was fine with me. I could stay in this moment forever. Before things could get more heated, he pulled away, "Goodnight, Chevrolet."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. Not after he kissed me like that. I was awestruck from the heated moment between Michael and I. I watched as he climbed out of my window and into his, turning around only for him to smile largely at me and, what I assume, go back to bed.

I'm almost certain that I stood in the same spot, where Michael left me, for an hour afterwards, wishing I could relive what happened moments ago. My phone beeped.

BRD: Still think I suck at kissing? You've been standing in the same spot since I left. 😉

Chevrolet: Don't get too full of yourself and stop spying on me, creep.

BRD: Did I surprise you?

Chevrolet: Mind your business.

BRD: Ok, ok. Don't blow a head gasket.

I heard the loudest laugh, that I've ever heard, come from Michael's room, obviously laughing from his own pun. I heard his mom go into his room to yell at him, "Michael Gordon Clifford, it is well after your bedtime." I heard Michael reply, still laughing, "Sorry mom. I'm going to bed now." After I heard his mom leave, I rolled my eyes, smiling, and decided to be a smart ass.

Chevrolet: Awww, does the big bad punk rock dog have a bedtime?

BRD: Goodnight, darling.

I put my phone on the charger and set it on my nightstand beside my bed. I was tossing and turning most of the night, unable to sleep. My mind was racing with never ending thoughts about Michael. Why, all of a sudden, has he been kissing me? It's not that I'm complaining, I'm just curious. Besides the last couple of nights, Michael and I have only kissed once and that was from our first kiss many years ago. I pushed the thoughts aside and tried my best to get at least a few hours of sleep.