Titch,
I do miss you.
Tyler
My heart bangs against my ribs in uneven thumps. Leaving his house like that the other day was hard. There was so much shit I wanted to say to him, but sometimes it’s best to build a fortress around your heart. And Tyler taught me that.
I place my head in my hands and stare down at the keyboard. I could ignore this message. I could tell him that the other night was a mistake. I could be mean and bitter and tell him how much I’ve hated him over the past few years, how hurt he left me and how much he’s made me doubt any relationship since him, or I could get over myself and my pride and tell him I miss him too.
And without trying, my mind drifts back to when we I was twelve.
I lie awake, staring at the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling. I glance at the clock and hear a tap on my window. Smiling, I throw the covers off and hop out of bed. As soon as I open the window, the humid summer air swoops in.
Tyler grins as he crawls inside. “Sorry I’m late, titch. Mom stayed up watching some dumb movie.”
“It’s fine.” I haven’t been scared to sleep by myself for years, but I haven’t told him that. His eyes skim over my body then suddenly dart to the other side of the room. He shakes his hair out of his face while rubbing his hand over his arm and shifting his weight on his feet. “Your legs are getting long.”
“Yeah…”
“Not gonna be able to call you titch much longer if you keep getting taller.”
I flop down on the bed, and he crawls in next to me. We sink underneath the covers. His leg brushes against mine. I feel guilty because I want him to do it again.
He’s starting to get the tiniest bit of facial hair, and he just got his braces off a few days ago. All the girls in my class have a crush on him which makes me mad.
Tyler looks over at me and narrows his eyes. “What do you think about Ellen Frampton?”
“I don’t like her.”
He laughs. “Why?”
“I just don’t.” I don’t because Ellen Frampton spends all day writing his name over the front of her notebooks. She even wrote Ellen Westbrook the other day. I wanted to tear the piece of paper out of her notebook and ball it up.
“She’s nice,” he argues.
“I don’t like her.”
“She likes me.”
I cross my arms over my chest and grit my teeth. “I know.”
“That make you mad, titch, huh?” He pokes my side, and I jerk away.
“No, why would it make me mad? I don’t care who likes you.”
“Sure you do.”
He pinches me again and I punch him in the arm.
“Ow,” he says still laughing.
“Do you like her?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest.
“No.” I let out a breath.
“She wears too much makeup,” he says. “Hey, titch…” he takes a piece of my hair and twirls it around his finger which causes this flittering flutter deep in my stomach.
“What?”
“You aren’t gonna start wearing makeup like that are you?”
“Momma said I can’t wear makeup until I’m thirteen.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be thirteen in a few months.” He unwinds the tendril of hair from his finger. “I don’t want you to wear makeup like that.” He rolls over and pulls me toward him and now this awkward—thing—is going on. Things used to be easy between us. Tyler would come in here, and we’d talk and fall asleep. Now, I get nervous. I try to find ways to get closer to him. I stare at his face because I like the way he looks. I want to kiss him and I shouldn’t because we’re friends and friends don’t kiss.
“Well, I’m gonna wear makeup,” I say.
“Oh, come on.” He inches closer to me. “You’re too pretty to mess your face up with that junk.”
He’s so close. He smells like Tyler, like laundry detergent and body wash. That scent does something really funny to me. He puts an arm around me, his fingers scratching my back, and then his eyes lock with mine. “Can you keep a secret?” he asks, his nose brushing against mine.
“Yeah…”
Closer. “You promise you won’t get mad at me?”
“Promise.”
I can feel my heart in the back of my throat. I’m hot everywhere. He tilts his head and closes his eyes and then he brushes his warm lips against mine. Neither of us move. His uneven breaths blow over my mouth. I close my eyes and swallow, my nerves bundling up in my stomach. His lips barely press against mine, and we both freeze again. I open my eyes. He opens his eyes and backs away. We’re both breathing hard and staring at each other. This feels weird—in a good way. Without warning, he leans back in and presses his mouth completely over my mine. He stops for a second, then kisses me again. After a second, I feel his tongue slide over my lips and part them. And what the hell do I do with my tongue? Do I stick in his mouth? Do I brush it against his? His hands move to the back of my head, and he tugs me closer to him. When he pulls away, he smiles. “I told you when I was seven I’d kiss you…”
“Hey!” The sound of Heather’s voice brings me back to the present. “Magic Mike XXL is on, wanna watch it with me?”
“Uh, yeah…” I glance back at the message. “Yeah, one sec.”
She moves out of the doorway, and I quickly tap over the keys.