Ethan's lips are soft against mine; the kiss is delicate and tender in a way. His caresses on my cheeks somehow soothe me.
I don't know what to do; I don't know how to kiss. It's my first kiss, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with Ethan.
It's crazy that at almost 17, I know how to do mathematical calculations in seconds, I can solve physics problems effortlessly and error-free because I know what to do since everything is exact. There's no gray area. It's either black or white.
In contrast, a kiss is the opposite. It's never exact. I don't know what Ethan's next move will be or what mine should be. I get overwhelmed just thinking that I must be appearing more pathetic than ever, and I put my hands on his chest to push him away.
"It's late, and I'm tired," I tell him to conve
