Chapter 4
Twelve years ago
It's dark in my second-floor room as I look out the window. I just turned off my TV after rewatching a couple of episodes of my favorite show, and I want to see if Pen's bedroom light is on.
It's not. The second floor of her house is dark, including her room across from mine.
On the first floor, a light shines on the corner window near the front.
That's where her living room is. White and blue flashes tell me her parents are watching TV themselves, waiting for Pen.
It seems my friend is still out. She planned to be at school all afternoon, but I didn't expect her lab class to go so late into the evening.
Still, I gaze at her backyard by instinct. Coming home from the back is a shortcut, and maybe I'll catch her just as she arrives…
Except the swing she keeps in the back appears to be moving. It's not the subtle movement that comes from the wind. It's the kind of purposeful rocking that comes from Pen.
I rush to her.
As soon as I can take a good look, I know she's sad.
Darkness sits heavy on the backyard, with only the streetlights and a half moon casting yellows and blues onto the space.
The big tree from which the swing hangs draws random shapes on the ground, while keeping everything dim.
The bushes around the fence appear like shadows, and the decorative stones edging the lawn are no more than suggestions.
Still, I know my way around the place. I come close.
Her long brown hair hangs down, curtaining her face.
She's slouched on the swing, her legs pushing her back and forth in a way that looks despondent.
It's like there's a big weight on her shoulders, and she's trying to dislodge it and have it fall off her back.
Only that her movements are too weak to manage.
My heart constricts. Something happened, and I don't care what it is, I'll try to make it better.
I go and kneel in front of her. "Pen. What happened?"
The light around us shines on her dark hair in hints of violet. A similar color bathes her light brown skin, with purple reflection dots in her dark umber eyes.
She dries one tear, unaffected by my sudden presence. Fuck. She doesn't cry often, and seeing it rips my heart in two.
I put a hand around her face and dry another tear. "Who made you cry?"
Pen doesn't respond right away. She sniffles and steals a glance at me, before she shrugs.
"You're going to be so pissed," she mutters.
"Damn right I will be. Let me. No one gets to make you cry."
"Evan," she sighs. "You know how we were paired all of last year in Chemistry? And again this year?"
I nod, and pretend I'm not bothered by the fact her tears are for a guy.
Her eyes return to the lawn between us. "We were alone and I thought, maybe I should make a move. He's so popular and cute, and he's decent, and if I'm interested, shouldn't I tell him? I'm not going to wait just because I'm a girl and the world decided I shouldn't."
"You're interested… in Evan?"
I don't like this at all. Evan is the kind of guy to be charming in public but an asshole when he thinks people are not looking. He's said some horrible things in the locker room.
To imagine him with Pen I just…
"I thought I could be!" she exclaims. "And I'm the only person I know who's had zero experience. I hate that I have zero experience."
Pen and I don't often talk about these things. I didn't know she had no experience at all. If I'm honest, I've tried not to think about Pen with other people too much.
I'm sure that says something about me, but I'm not ready to go deeper than that into it.
She glances at me with an accusatory look. I've gone out with a few girls, dated one for a few months. It's given me some experience, that's for sure.
"There's nothing wrong with not having experience," I say.
"There's nothing wrong, except I want experience. Everyone's obsessed with sex and dating and here I am, not even having kissed a guy!"
"Is that why you're sad? You didn't get to kiss Evan, I take it?"
Relief trickles down my chest. Somehow, it feels good that she doesn't—
Wow. I was going to say I'm glad she doesn't have experience, but even I know that's shitty.
It's a lot of hypocrisy to prefer my best friend to not go around kissing guys, when I've gone around kissing a few girls.
All I can say in my defense is that I have never let it interfere with our friendship.
I've never even been tempted to let it get in the way.
None of them were too serious to start with.
I never felt the things I wanted to feel.
It was easy to end all of it as soon as they got suspicious of my friendship with Pen.
Regardless, I shouldn't be focusing on that. She's sad, and if I feel any relief, it should be because she won't have to deal with that shithead, Evan.
"I didn't get to kiss him." She wrinkles her nose. "He's nice and I thought I could just try. I wanted to get it over with and see if I could make it happen. But he…"
I caress her face again, silently asking her to tell me more.
"He called me delusional," she whispers.
All the relief, all the sympathy, even the patience I feel evaporate at once. Anger takes its place, so swift I barely notice I'm up again.
I start pacing, clenching and unclenching my jaw.
"More than his words," she continues, "it's the way he looked, Leon. He looked… he looked…"
Her voice breaks and I'm on my knees in front of her in an instant.
She looks at me with fresh tears in her eyes. "He looked disgusted."
"Fuck," I whisper. "Fuck him."
I hug her. It's as tender as I can manage, like she needs to be handled with care.
Pen has a wonderful, generous spirit. The kind that feels warm and giving. Some people may see that and be tempted to test if she lacks a backbone, assuming her empathy means she has no boundaries. They don't know her like I do. She's soft but not fragile. She's like water. Vital and powerful.
I tighten my arms around her. "Forget him, Pen. He's a tool. Don't believe him for a second. Please. You're wonderful. He's an asshole. I didn't know you liked him or I would have told you. He's horrid when he's just with his friends."
"But what if he's not the only one who thinks I'm delusional? I'm not popular and I have no idea what I'm doing—"
"I'm not popular and I have dated a bit—"
"Yeah but you're… you're magnetic. Meanwhile, I can't flirt for the life of me. At this rate I'm never going to know what kissing is like. I'm going to graduate high school only knowing rejection."
Shit. That's the worst feeling in the world. It stabs you and only doubt creeps in through the opening. I don't want it for her.
"I just… want to know." Her voice comes out a little garbled against my shoulder. "Get it out of the way."
"I'll kiss you," I say before I know it.
The words ripple in my throat like the echoes have changed the physics of my vocal cords. Something akin to nerves takes hold of my stomach, because whatever brought me to say that out loud knows it's a big risk… but I'll do anything for Pen.
She pushes away. I give her room, but keep my hands on her shoulders.
Her wide open eyes hold blown, dark pools. "What? When?"
"Now."
It's easy to find conviction inside of me. I will not let her feel rejection, when I can easily distract her and give her something she wants.
"Leon— I've been crying. I'm snotty. I'm a mess. You're— my friend!"
"I am your friend. That's why I'm going to kiss you. So you know."
"Wait. Are you sure?"
"It's just a kiss." I cradle her head. "In my experience, they feel nice, but they're not earth-shattering."
When they kiss on TV it looks like they would be. In fanfic, they describe it as rocking your world, as long as you're kissing the right person. I know when I find the one for me, their kiss will change my world.
With Pen? It'll be nice, and she'll get what she wants. I'll be the guy who's there for her in all ways, even this one.
"You're not selling it," she says. "You're basically saying, 'they feel nice but whatever, don't expect too much.'"
"I don't have to sell it. I'm not trying to seduce you, Pen. Didn't you just say you want to get it out of the way? We don't have to make it a big deal. We're just kissing as friends."
"Promise that it's just as friends. No matter what, we'll still be friends."
"Of course. A kiss like this can't ruin our friendship."
She gazes at me for a second longer.
She nods. "I trust you."
"Good." I frown.
I gaze at her lips. They part, supple and—
No. No thoughts like that allowed. Better yet, no thoughts at all.
Just a light touch, to start. A second, two, of that soft test, and I press my mouth to hers. She releases a breath and it plays against my skin.
My eyes are closed. I change the angle with gentle guidance from my hands on her face. I'm tempted to smile, feeling tender because kissing Pen is just like I thought…
Until her tongue finds its way into my mouth. It calls for mine and I give in. Mouths open now, we kiss languidly, sweetness and exploration that build up slowly.
Maybe that's why I notice how things change. The slight tremors building in the ground, climbing up my legs right into my belly. The swell of emotion filling up my chest. The warmth that spreads from my center until it reaches my skin.
A hundred little fires light up with no warning. The ground shakes.
This is different. I don't understand it but I can't think— I simply angle my head and try to go for more. Fuck, I want more. Wherever this may lead, I'll follow. I'll guide. I will— stop, when she interrupts everything with a laugh.
"Oh my God." She pulls away. "That's weird!"
She laughs some more.
I freeze. My hands fall slowly to my side, as if I've lost control over them and gravity took over. Horrified, I realize I'm at half mast.
"Tongues are wet and soft but… hard?" Her face looks like she can't fully process what just happened. "I should have guessed but…"
She looks confused now. Good, because I'm not sure I can grasp all that happened either.
Why do I feel awful? I did this so she didn't feel rejected, but it's like I took the feeling from her and stuffed it down my throat. My best friend didn't like the way I kissed her. Shouldn't I be okay with that? Fuck.
"You'll like it with the right person," I manage.
"Will I? If you think about it, it's so weird to just… come at someone and lock with their mouth hole like that."
I snort and package my feelings tight. Swiftly, I dispose of them. They should end up buried deeper than the Mariana Trench. I'll make sure of it.
Pen and I are friends. She doesn't have to like my kiss. I don't have to be the right person for her that way. She would hate knowing I might have— I could have—
I will not betray her like this.
"Don't get me wrong," she says. "It was nice, but I'd give it a three out of ten."
I purse my lips and nod.
She frowns. "Maybe it's just something people do to get to the good stuff. Sex has to feel good, right?"
I rub my lips this time. It would be easier if they stopped tingling. "Kisses will feel good too. Sex— sex is—"
Not something we talk about much. Any time we talk about love and romance and sex, we talk in hypotheticals. It's never about what we want, what we may like, or what we're hoping to try.
"Leon! You've had sex?!"
Somehow that makes her cry again.
"That's not— What I mean— I've only—"
Panic makes my confusion worse. I can't find a way to explain so I don't.
I dry her tears again. "Pen, what's going on?"
"I don't want to end up alone."
"You won't be. I promise."
"How do you know?"
"If you want to be with someone, you'll find someone that makes you feel right. You're amazing."
"What if I don't?!"
"You will. And if you don't, you will always have me."
"Come on. I know about the fanfic. I know you're obsessed with that TV show about the scientist and the detective who have not kissed in like five seasons. I know you're a romantic at heart. You will marry one day."
"So? Besides, I also have to find her, right? You and I have plenty of time. If we don't, we still get to be friends and keep each other company. Neither of us has to end up alone."
The wrinkled gesture on her face softens. Her tears dry up. She gazes at me for a couple of seconds, until it looks like a lightbulb went on in her head.
"What?" I ask.
"If you want to marry and I don't want to be alone… and if you kissed me now as a friend…"
I squint.
"If we're both single when we're thirty, we should get married. For companionship. We clearly are not meant for romance, after that kiss."
I ignore the pit that opens in my stomach. She wants friendship from me, not romance. I will not fail her by breaking my promise so fucking soon.
I frown. "We don't need to be married to be friends forever."
"Leon, you won't be single by the time we're thirty," she whispers. "It will make me feel better to think I have that promise, yeah? That you won't look at me with disgust for proposing it."
"I couldn't," I whisper back. "I'm going to punch Evan."
"Don't. But if you had it in you to marry me if you're single…"
Hope shines in her eyes, nevermind the darkness around us. This really means something to her, and I don't have it in me to deny her anything.
"Yes," I say. "Yes. If we're single when we're thirty, I'll marry you."
She lets out a big sigh. "That helps. You're the best, Leon. It won't happen, since you will find someone in college and marry them before graduation… but having this pact makes me feel better."
"I will still punch Evan. How dare he do that to you—"
She chuckles. "No need."
"He hurt you." I clench my teeth.
"A lot of people will hurt me in my life. You can't go around punching them all."
"Want to test that?"