First Kiss?
1808 Words
Zee.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Denver asked in an irritated voice as he pulled me away from the edge of the building and caught me in his arms.
His arms, strong and tightly secured around me, made me feel a kind of safety I hadn’t known in a long time.
Time froze as I stared deep into his beautiful brown eyes. He was even hotter than I remembered him being this morning.
There was a fading scar near his right eye that I hadn’t noticed earlier, but it didn’t take anything away from the intense sexiness that seemed to surround him.
And those full lips of his looked totally kissable.
He seemed caught in the moment too, his eyes glued to mine like they were meant to stay that way forever.
The moment felt like something out of a romantic movie scene, and I would have stayed in his arms longer if I hadn’t suddenly remembered I was alone with someone I barely knew.
But before I could say anything, he beat me to it.
"I asked you a question," he said, suddenly letting go of me.
I hit the ground, not too hard, but hard enough to piss me off.
"No, you were the one who was going to get me killed!" I snapped, my voice louder than I intended.
"Wait, can you even hear yourself? You're the one here alone in a strictly prohibited building," he said.
"Thank God you said strictly prohibited building. Now tell me, what the ffff... God! What are you doing here?" I said, suddenly remembering I could’ve died if he hadn’t caught me in time.
He looked at me like I was acting crazy.
"You know what? I don’t know what’s wrong with you, and honestly, I don’t care," he said as he turned to walk away.
I don’t know what came over me in that moment—call it impulse or foolishness—but the next thing I knew, I was running ahead of him, spreading my arms to block his path.
"And what are you doing?" he asked, giving me a suspicious look.
"Wait, We’re not done talking," I said breathless.
"I think we are," he muttered, trying to move past, but I stood my ground.
"Wait," I said, my voice pleading. "I need your help."
He frowned with his arms folded, "What is it?" he asked.
"I want you to help me so that Lawrence can see me," I confessed.
"I don’t understand," Denver said, his eyes scrutinizing me. "Who is Lawrence?"
"Lawrence is my childhood crush. And today, when I told him how I really felt, he said he doesn’t see me," I said, feeling both sad and embarrassed.
"Why isn’t he seeing you? Is he blind?" Denver asked, his expression unreadable.
"No, he's not. If anything, he’s perfect and I want to be the type of girl he likes. I want to be his girlfriend," I admitted, my face burning with shame.
"So how do you want me to help you?" he asked.
"I don’t know. I just want to be like a normal girl. I’m tired of being bullied and being the laughingstock of the school. I want to be like the other girls. I want to be sexy. I want to feel sexy," I said, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.
"And why are you asking me to help you? I mean, you barely know me," he said.
"I know, but I think if anyone can help me, it’s you," I said.
"Sorry. I can’t help you," he said, walking out before I could stop him.
The silence he left behind echoed louder than anything else that day.
It wasn’t until after he left that I realized the implications of what I’d just done. I barely knew him. What if he told everyone what I’d said? It seemed like my days of being bullied were only just beginning.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I stayed in class, glued to my seat, hoping to disappear into the background. I kept my head down, avoided eye contact, and wished everyone should somehow just forget what happened earlier at the cafeteria, but you know what they say:
Wishes aren't horses.
And even if they were, I wouldn't be able to afford them.
After school, I waited for everyone to leave before I left the classroom and went to get the groceries like my father instructed.
As I walked through the shop shelves, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened. I knew the students would spend the whole week taunting me about Lawrence’s rejection.
And I had made things worse by confiding in Denver. A million 'what ifs' ran through my head.
Since the money I had wasn’t much and with inflation making everything expensive, I settled for only the basic groceries we needed. I was done in no time.
Once I got home, I did my homework and prepared dinner. My father wasn’t back yet, so I was alone.
Like every other day, I wished I had someone to talk to, someone to share my burdens with. Even though my mother had been dead for a long time, I wished she could magically wake up just to give me a much-needed hug.
After taking my bath that evening, I stood in front of the mirror, and for the first time, I truly hated my body. The extra weight, the acne, the idea of just been me.
I wished I wasn’t fat. I wished I wasn’t ugly. And even though I knew I was super smart, it didn’t change the fact that no guy wanted me.I went to bed sad and cried myself to sleep.
****
I woke up the next morning not feeling any better.
My father noticed my mood while I was preparing breakfast and tried asking about it, but I told him I was fine.
I didn’t want to burden him with my problems when he already had enough trouble trying to pay our bills.
I walked to school to avoid the students on the bus who always trolled me.
But the moment I got to school, I wished I hadn’t come. There were tons of animated flyers of me and Lawrence pasted all over the school.
The cartoon version of me was huge, with a fat stomach. Lawrence, dressed like a prince, held a sword and pierced my stomach with it.
On the poster, in bold letters, it said:
**"The Prince and His Fat Monster Crush."**
Groups of students gathered in different spots, laughing and talking about it.
The moment one of them saw me, she quickly spread the word, and soon everyone was laughing and pointing at me.
I felt humiliated. My first thought was to run back home, but that would mean missing class, and I couldn’t afford that.
With the last bit of confidence I had, I walked into school, unshed tears burning my eyes. But then Blake’s voice boomed through a megaphone.
"Hello, Fat Zee! Don’t you want to say hello to your Prince Charming before heading to class? I’m sure he’s dying to give you your first kiss," she mocked as she walked out with her four witchy cheerleader friends.
I always wondered why they were called cheerleaders when all they did was bring me pain.
I ignored her and tried to walk past, but she blocked me.
"Didn’t you hear me? Look, your prince Lawrence, is here," she said, pointing behind me with a childish pout.
I resisted the urge to look back, Afraid of the disappointment I might see on Lawerence face.
I was about to say something to her when the loud roar of a motorcycle filled the air.
I, along with everyone else, turned toward the sound, and there he was, looking like some action movie star riding to go save his lover from the evil villain.
Dressed in all-black leather, Denver rode through towards the crowd. My heart pounded as I wondered what he was planning to do.
'What if he tells everyone what I said to him yesterday?'
My heart beat faster as he stopped his bike just a few feet from where we were and took off his helmet, revealing his perfect face. Some of the girls gasped in awe. I saw Blake adjusting her clothes, her lips curling into a sweet smile.
I gulped, my palms sweaty, as he walked toward me.
"I’ve been looking everywhere for you," he said, to my surprise.
And before I could respond, he leaned in...
And kissed me.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe. My brain froze. My heart stopped. The world spun wildly and yet stood still all at once.
Denver’s lips were warm and soft, firm, yet gentle, and they moved against mine like we’d done this a hundred times before.
But this was my first kiss. Ever.
And it wasn’t with Lawrence. It was with Denver.
When he finally pulled away, I stared at him in shock, lips tingling, breath short, legs barely holding me upright. My eyes scanned his face, looking for an explanation, a smirk, a sign that it was all a cruel joke. But there was none. His expression was unreadable, eyes locked on mine with quiet intensity.
Behind us, the world snapped back into motion.
Gasps. Murmurs. Whispers spreading like wildfire.
I heard someone drop their phone. A girl shrieked, “Did you see that?” Someone else squealed, “The Biker just kissed her?!”
Blake’s smile fell like glass shattering on the floor.
She stood frozen, her lips parted in disbelief as her hand slowly dropped from where it had been pointing at Lawrence. Her eyes darted between me and Denver like she couldn’t compute what had just happened.
Then she laughed—but it wasn’t funny. It was bitter and laced with venom.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she sneered, stepping forward. “You kissed her? Of all the pathetic girls in this school, her?”
Denver turned to her, his jaw clenched. “Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?”
Blake blinked, her fake smile twitching at the corners. “You can’t be serious, Denver. This has to be some kind of joke. She’s... she’s fat. she is ugly. And weird. And—”
“And she’s smarter than you can ever be,” he interrupted, his voice calm but sharp like a blade.
My heart was thudding so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. I didn’t know what to say or do. My hands were trembling, and my cheeks were burning.
The expression on the faces of the female students had gone from disgust to that of admiration and envy.
"Zee, come on, let's get out of here," he said pulling me with him.
- Writer
