Young Annabelle by Sarah Tork Page B

standing in the dark of night
in a neighborhood that didn’t see much traffic.
    “Fireball?” he murmured softly.
    “What?” I replied quietly, defeated.
    Hesitantly, he asked, “Did I say something to
make you sad?”
    I wasn’t going to mention the boyfriend
thing; there was no way.
    “Yes,” I whimpered.
    That’s just great, way to sound strong
there, now he’ll have no reason not to pity you!
    “I’m sorry,” came his quiet reply.
    Well maybe ‘I’m sorry’ just isn’t good
enough. The damage is already done!
    “Whatever.”
    “What can I do to make it all better?”
    “There’s nothing you could–” I began but was
interrupted by him pulling me against his body. His arms encircled
my waist, holding me tight. My arms instinctively bent upwards,
hands firmly planted against his solid chest. Any resentment I had
swiftly melted away as something brand new took its place:
pleasure.
    Jesus!
    “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked him
softly; his face was only a few inches from mine.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” James asked
back, looking down at my hands on his chest. I slowly slid my arms
up around his neck.
    I can’t believe I just did that!
    “That’s better.”
    Our bodies were plastered against one
another; I felt a new kind of nervousness touch every single inch
of my body, it prickled electrically.
    “James,” I murmured softly.
    “Fireball,” he whispered back.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” I repeated;
my brain felt frozen. My heart had stopped beating a mile a minute
instead issuing slow, heavy beats.
    James uncurled one of his arms from my waist
and trailed it along my back to the base of my neck, holding it
firmly yet delicately. Blood rushed to the very spot he was
holding, heat filled my eyes as I stared at him.
    “What are you doing?” My bewilderment was
audible in the hush.
    I wasn’t sure I had the capacity to speak
anymore. That function had fled along with the bitch. Her
replacement was a delicate flower that yearned to be touched and
taken care of. I felt his hand shift on my neck, ever so slightly,
causing my head to tilt up to him. Slowly, inch by inch, his face
descended on mine, stopping just a breath away from my trembling
lips.
    I wanted it. Badly. My lips parted a
fraction, letting a thread of air escape.
    “Can I?” His breath was warm on my lips.
    Fuck it!
    “Yeah,” I whispered back. He closed the
distance until his lush lips covered mine.
    My first kiss…damn!
    His lips moved softly over mine. I felt his
grip on my neck squeeze as his lips pressed deeper into mine, more
urgently. I tightened my hold around his neck and was pulled even
further into his embrace. I tilted my head to the side and devoured
his lips hungrily, which were just as hungry for mine.
    Love kissing! Oh my God, I’m totally making
out!
    I felt his wet tongue push its way between my
lips. As he entered my mouth, I moved my tongue to join his in a
tangling dance.
    French kiss! This is crazy! I’m crazy! But
damn it, I don’t want to stop, feels too good!
    I felt myself running out of breath, but I
didn’t want to pull back and stop the passionate kissing. I’d
sooner faint than pull back.
    Possibly the best moment of my life!
    Beep! Beep!
    Damn it! Mom! I stopped moving my lips but
his still remained on top of mine. I took a long breath and slowly
leaned back. The cool wind swirled around us, eliminating the
sweaty warmth we’d been generating.
    “Sorry,” I murmured breathlessly, “it’s my
mom.”
    “Damn, Fireball,” he replied slowly,
breathlessly. He leaned his forehead against mine and caught his
breath.
    “Yeah, I know.” I couldn’t keep the smile
from my voice or my face.
    *****
    “Where have you been?” Mom demanded as I
opened the front door.
    “ I was with Jenna. We were hanging around
the pool after the mock meet,” I told her as I peeled off my shoes,
avoiding eye contact. I wasn’t lying, technically , because I did hang out