Before the kiss

Feezah's POV My mother's favorite words—or should I say, the words I had memorized and never wanted to erase from my memory. "Feezah, I don't want to see you close to boys." She said those words almost every day. Sometimes before I left for school. Sometimes while we were eating dinner. Other times, she would simply call me into her room, make me sit beside her, and remind me again. To her, boys were nothing but heartbreak waiting to happen. As a child, I never questioned her. I believed every single word she said because she was my mother, and mothers always wanted the best for their children... right? Before I was transferred to another school, I had only two close friends: Vicky and my seatmate. They were the only people I spent most of my time with. Vicky and I argued almost every week. Not because we hated each other. In fact, we loved each other like sisters. Our arguments always centered on one thing... Boys. "Feezah," Vicky would sigh, rolling her eyes, "not every boy is wicked." I would immediately shake my head. "That's because you've not met the right one to hurt you." She would laugh. "And you've not met the right one to prove your mother wrong." Those words always annoyed me. "My mother can't be wrong," I would reply confidently. "She has experienced life more than we have." Vicky never forced her opinions on me. Instead, she would smile and change the topic. That was one thing I admired about her. Despite our different views, she respected mine. The strange part was that I noticed something. Never once had the boys around her treated her badly. They joked with her, helped her carry books, and sometimes even bought snacks for our group during break time. None of those moments matched the terrifying stories my mother told me. Still... I chose to believe my mother. Every evening after work, she would tell me another story. Sometimes it was about a neighbor who was abandoned after getting pregnant. Sometimes it was about a woman who trusted the wrong man. And sometimes... It was about herself. My father. The man I had never met. She told me how he promised to love her forever. How everyone admired their relationship. How people often said they were the perfect couple. Then everything changed. The moment she became pregnant, he disappeared. He denied ever being responsible for the pregnancy and left her to face the world alone. She worked while carrying me in her womb. She struggled to feed herself. She cried herself to sleep on countless nights. Yet she never gave up. Whenever she finished telling me those stories, she would hold my hands and say softly, "Feezah... I don't want you to go through what I went through. Stay away from boys. I want a better life for you." Looking into her eyes, I could see the pain she still carried. How could I disobey someone who had sacrificed everything for me? As long as I could remember, my mother kept repeating what my father had done. She protected me the way a mother dog protects her puppy. She worked tirelessly to provide everything I needed. I barely had any reason to complain. I had food. I had clothes. I had a roof over my head. I had a mother who loved me with everything she had. I was living the best life... Or so I thought. Vicky, on the other hand, had both parents. Whenever I visited her house, I admired the way her father joked with her mother. They laughed together. They ate together. Sometimes they teased each other like teenagers. Watching them always left me confused. If all men were truly heartless... Why was Vicky's father different? One afternoon after school, Vicky and I started arguing again. "You should stop judging every boy because of your father's mistake," she said. "My father isn't the only one," I replied. "My mother has told me many stories." Before either of us could continue, Sarah, one of our classmates, walked over to us. She had obviously heard part of our conversation. She looked at me gently before speaking. "Feezah... don't compare your life to Vicky's." Those words pierced my heart. For the rest of the day, I couldn't stop thinking to about them. A few weeks later, everything changed. One evening, my mother returned home with the biggest smile I had seen in years. "I got promoted!" she announced happily. Without thinking, I threw my arms around her. "I knew you could do it, Mum!" We laughed together. For the first time in a long while, I saw pures happiness in her eyes. Then she said something that made my smile disappear. "We're relocating." I froze. "The company's head office is in another city." At first, I didn't know what to say. I wanted to celebrate with her. But I also wanted to cry. Leaving meant saying goodbye to the only life I had ever known. That evening, I called Vicky. "I have news." "What is it?" she asked excitedly. "My mum got promoted." She screamed happily through the phone. "That's amazing!" "We're relocating." Silence. Complete silence. "I'll miss you," she whispered. "I'll miss you too." We spent almost an hour talking about all the memories we had shared. Before ending the call, we made each other a promise. "No matter where life takes us, we'll stay friends forever." At that moment... We truly believed it. The next few days passed quickly. Boxes were packed. Furniture was moved. Goodbyes were exchanged. Vicky resumed school before I did because my mother was still searching for the right college for me. Every afternoon, she called me. "School is boring without you," she complained. She even admitted that she cried on her first day back. I laughed and told her silly jokes just to make her smile. But after every call ended... I would stare at my phone in silence. The truth was... I was hurting too. A new city. A new school. New classmates. A completely different life. I didn't know what awaited me there. As I lay on my bed that night, staring at the ceiling, only one question echoed through my mind. How was I supposed to cope without her?