Heart on a Chain by Cindy C Bennett Page A

both hands buried in his front pockets, shoulders hunched slightly forward, leaning against the doorframe opposite the side I lean on. We hadn’t turned on the lights in the waiting room; the only light is coming from the streetlights gleaming through the windows, and from a huge fish tank that glows in the corner. The lights from the hallway behind shine brightly, shadowing his face in darkness so that I can’t make his expression out.
    I shake my head.
    He cocks his head. “Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
    I choke out a laugh.
    “ Hardly. You’ve seen…well, you’ve seen how it is at school. I don’t even have a friend .”
    “ You do now,” he says, quietly.
    “ I don’t know why you want to be, but you are my friend. My only friend. You’re my best friend.”
    He laughs softly, “I’m glad about that.” His tone is low and husky with a concentration I haven’t heard him use before. Slowly, he leans toward me, bringing his face close to mine. He stops inches from my face. “But I’ve been trying really hard to be more.”
    My breath catches in my throat at his nearness.
    “ Ever been kissed?” he whispers, with a grin.
    Only by you, I think. If he doesn’t remember, I’m not going to bring it up. I shake my head, ducking a little in awkwardness.
    He kisses me then, his lips warm and soft on mine. I’m stunned, my wide eyes staring at his closed ones. I kiss him back, instinctively, innocently, awash in the sensation of feeling. There’s no movement in the room, no sound but our breathing, my heart pounding in my ears. He’s not touching me anywhere but with his lips on mine.
    It’s the best moment of my life, even better than swinging.
    “ Ew, gross,” Claire comes in behind us, without us hearing her approach—or at least, I didn’t hear her over the thrumming in my ears. I jerk instinctively, but Henry presses closer, bringing one hand up to the back of my neck, trapping me. He doesn’t remove his mouth from mine, though he does open his eyes to find me still staring at him. He feels the tension in me, and whispers, “relax,” against my mouth. He reaches out to his left and gives Claire a light shove backwards.
    “ Hey!” she calls out.
    “ Go away,” he grumbles, mouth still pressed to mine. He pulls the door closed, shutting us into the darkened waiting room. I smile against his mouth, and he meets it with a smile of his own, pulling back slightly. I look down, reluctant to meet his gaze in the raw emotions of the aftermath of the kiss. It was more than I could have dreamed of, even more amazing than when he holds my hand. I didn’t think anything could be better than that, the simple human contact that I haven’t experienced since I was young.
    He brings both his hands up, bracing my neck on both sides, thumbs skimming lightly over my cheeks, forcing me to look up. The smile drops from his face as he brings his mouth back to mine. This time I close my eyes, letting the sensations flow through me.
     
     

Chapter Ten
     
    “ So, Wednesday is Halloween,” Henry says as we walk to school Monday morning. We’re enjoying a late Indian summer this year, chilled air in the mornings and late evenings but seventy-five degrees during the day. So we’ve decided to walk to school every day until we no longer can. He holds my hand as we walk, carrying my loose books in his other arm.
    “ Yeah, I know.”
    He looks down at the books in his arm. “Don’t you have a locker?” His change of subject makes me laugh. Sometimes conversation with Henry is as schizophrenic as conversation with his sister, Claire.
    “ No, I haven’t had a locker for years.” I’m not about to tell him that I discovered early that lockers are nothing more than a torture device. It was bad enough finding all manner of disgusting garbage left in there that I had to clean out, or finding a destroyed text book that I couldn’t begin to afford to replace and the accompanying visit to the principal’s office