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I was surprised when he kissed me. I knew why obviously. I was a broken, crying girl, and in his eyes he assumed he could fix me, temporarily of course. And it worked my mind drifted off to other things for a while. But than I remembered why I was in a car, with tear caked cheeks, and a handsome boy I didn't really know.
It would take a lot more than a kiss to fix me.
He took my keys and drove me to his house, where I ignored the frayed Caution tape that lingered on doors and rooms, and gorged on oily pizza and sticky Mountain Dew. We watched the most lighthearted movies we could find. And I let myself think I was happy. Almost.
We talked about everything but Mason and Alice. We skipped through memories of them, and erased their presence from silly stories we told. And when he leaned in to kiss me again, I let him. I melted in against him, tasting the sweet soda on his lips, and feeling his soft brown hair on my fingertips.
I kissed a boy I barely knew, and convinced myself I was happy. Almost.
And I let him temporally replace the empty pit in my heart that was Alice's home. He almost fit completely too. Almost.