I take the helmet uncertainly, glancing over my shoulder at the group of people who have stalled in their advance towards me and are now watching. I don't know who the motorcyclist is, but it seems like they could be the lesser of two evils, right? One unknown, potentially dangerous stranger versus, like, seven or eight unknown, probably dangerous strangers. Or is it worse, because then I'd be on a motorcycle and they could take me wherever-
"You choose now of all times not to immediately recognize me?"
That voice is familiar. Low and smooth and-
I squint. "Blair Silver?"
"Yes."
I take the helmet and tentatively come closer. I keep sneaking glances at the group of no-longer-approaching guys as I position myself on the back of the bike, helmet on, worried that they're going to suddenly run over and jump me or something. Instead, though, a few seem to be peeling off from the group to go lean on the building and smoke again.
"Arms around me."
I focus on Blair Silver again and scootch closer to him on the seat until I'm pressed against his back, and timidly wrap my arms around his waist. He doesn't move until I hug him a little tighter, then slowly maneuvers out of the bus lane. My grip on him only gets tighter after that, about proportionate to the speed we're going. After I forget about how terrifying the whole ordeal with the guys approaching me was, though, riding on Blair Silver's motorcycle is actually kind of fun. If I wasn't wearing the helmet, I think I would probably have rested my head against his back by now. We're so close together. It's incredible.
Once we're out of the sketchier areas, he pulls over again so we can talk without having to yell over the engine, turning to look over his shoulder at me. "You okay?"
"I'm okay. Thank you." I don't stop hugging him.
"Don't worry about it. Address?"
I tell him and we're off again, this time in the direction of my house. It doesn't take long to get there, and I nearly go limp with relief when I spot my house (I don't, though, because I'm still holding onto Blair so I don't fly off his motorcycle onto the road and die).
He parks (parks? Is it a different word for motorcycles? I don't know anything about motorcycles) in front of my house, and we both get off, me finally releasing his waist. I take off his helmet and give it back to him. He places it on his bike, his hair much more ruffled than normal but still attractive and cool somehow. I gape at him for a moment, before finally managing to get out, "Thank you. Like, a lot thank you. Much thank-you-ing- thanks. Thanks. You. Thank you."
He's giving me that slightly amused almost smile. "Don't worry about it."
I know that's probably my cue to leave and go into my house, like a normal person, but I don't want to stop looking at him. He runs a hand through his hair casually, smoothing it down again. I watch, entranced. Everything he does is just so cool.
"Theodore," he says softly, and I blink, startling out of my reverie.
"How do you know my name?"
The corner of his mouth quirks up. "My mom mentioned it after our staring contest in her classroom."
I blush a little. "Right. Well... don't call me Theodore. I mean, unless you really want to or something. It's just that it's long and it's easier to say Theo so you can call me that. If you want."
He's smiling a little bit now, and his dimples are killing me. "You don't like being called Theodore?"
I open my mouth, then close it because nothing comes out, then open it again to say, "I mean, I don't. I don't don't like it. Don't... not like it. Dislike it. I don't. I just... my friends call me Theo. Not that we're friends. You and I. Unless you think we are, then you're right. But- people call me Theo. Like, people. Just normal people. Like... people."
"Do you want to be friends?"
I nearly have a stroke. "Uh... yes! Yes, yes, yes. Yes. Yes." I nod my head like a crazy person.
He takes a step closer, one of his hands fluttering just above my waist before gently settling there. I stare up at him, feeling my heart beating at the speed of sound in my chest. "Are you sure?"
My mouth is so dry I'm not sure how I manage to make sound. "I... I think so?"
He pulls me a little closer to him, still holding my waist, and I think I might pass out. He's faintly smiling as he says, "You don't sound sure."
The only sound I can manage this time is a little squeak. One of his hands comes up to my cheek, and he runs his fingertips over my skin so gently that I feel lightheaded.
"I don't want to be friends, Theo," he says in such a low voice that I'm having a hard time staying upright.
"W-what?"
His hand finally rests on my cheek, and he's smiling a little as he tilts my head up so our faces are only centimetres apart. "May I kiss you?"
This can't be real. I must be dreaming. There's no way I'm breathing the same air as Blair Silver (like, directly. Our faces are so close), much less hearing him ask to kiss me.
I realize that I don't care if it's a dream. I nod.
A moment later, his lips brush mine so softly that I might not have felt it if I wasn't hypersensitive to his touch right now. I whimper a little, and he presses a little more firmly. If I was capable of moving, I'd be arching into him and holding him as close to me as humanly possible. Instead, I just stand there like I'm paralyzed and let him kiss me.
I've never been kissed (by, like, not family- though, they don't kiss me on the lips), so I don't know if this is objectively as exceptional as I think it is. His mouth was slightly open before he kissed me, which meant that he could then close his lips over mine and it felt so good that I forgot to breathe. He kisses me over and over and over and I think I'm about to pass out because I feel so lightheaded and my heart is racing at a million miles a minute.
When he stops, I'm gasping for breath. He's not, because of course he's not. It's about then that I realize we're still standing in front of my house and my parents could see us. It's about one second later that I realize I could not care less.
He's smiling at me still, and I'm sure I'm staring at him like a complete idiot. Unfortunately, he seems to realize the same thing as I did a second ago and glances over my shoulder at my house. "You should go in. Your parents will be worried."
I don't. Instead, I continue to gaze up at him. "But... what- why- what does this..." He's Blair Silver, I remind myself. He probably kisses people whenever he wants because let's be honest, who's gonna say no? It means nothing, Theo. Don't read into it. "I mean, yeah. Okay. I will. And... I won't tell people about this, either."
"Why not?"
I frown up at him, confused. His hand is still on my cheek, and he brushes his thumb over my skin. I sigh a little and lean into his touch. "Because... I don't know. I don't know. Do you want me to?"
He continues lightly stroking my cheek, smiling a little. "I don't mind either way."
I narrow my eyes at him. "So you do want me to?"
He looks like he's amused, but trying not to smile too much. "Just go inside. I'll see you tomorrow."
His hand slips from my cheek, and his other one from my waist, and he gets back on his motorcycle. I know I should move, but I can't bring my feet to do it, so I just stand there and watch him. He notices me watching and one corner of his mouth turns up a little more (his dimple appears) and he winks at me- actually winks at me- before driving away (is it driving if it's a motorcycle?).
Eventually, I go inside my house, feeling dazed. His lips... his almost smile... his dimples... his-
"I'll see you tomorrow."
The thought of seeing him again makes me more excited than it should. If he's not planning on avoiding me, like that sentence implies, then maybe the kiss did mean something.
It's only like, two hours later, when I'm in bed, that it finally hits me that it's Friday and I will therefore not see him tomorrow.
So much for the kiss meaning something.
Were you surprised that Blair Silver was the person on the motorcycle? What are your thoughts on their conversation? And how about the kiss? Do you think that it means something, or no? Blair did say he'd see him tomorrow...
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