It began slowly. Unexpected. Is it called an affair when you're not married? Is it called an affair, such a heavy word, when you're just a child? I saw him watching me in the halls, at lunch. When I finally had enough courage to look up at him, I saw it. What my friends had been telling me. I saw remorse there. The kind of regret that you can't wipe off your face. But then I also saw his laughter and his lips on Aurora's. I saw their hands and arms and bodies touching. I saw all the ways they clung to each other. Like two people who had been starved for affection, finding each other for the first time.

They were high school royalty. They were the couple who had been struggling to find each other in the entire movie. And now they were kissing, together at last.

I was forgotten. My crush was forgotten. And I was grateful for that at least. Homecoming was forgotten. And I was able to lurk in the shadows the way I always did.

My friends and I hung out at the Falcon’s Nest. We played pool. We ate sour cream fries and had too much Pepsi. We felt invincible. One car between the four of us was all it took. The future was ours. Broken hearts could not stop us.

It was a Thursday, the second day he reached out to me. I went out to Britt’s car in the Falcon’s Nest parking lot to grab my glasses, and there he was. Parked, sitting, staring at me through the windshield.

I froze, unable to move. He flicked his jaw, motioning to his passenger door.

For a moment I just stared, defiant. I looked at those lips, lips that had been all over Aurora after fifth period. My head moved from side to side, a heavy rejection. I felt it in the pit of my stomach. In reply, he mouthed one word. One word to break me open, to beg me. Please.

I couldn’t control my body after that. I walked around the front of his truck, to the door. I climbed onto the side step, peered in his window. He reached over, slowly unrolling it. I let my hot breath leave a mark behind.

“Get in.” It wasn’t like him to demand. I didn’t like it. I shook my head again. “I need to talk to you.”

"About what? It didn't go so well the last time, and I think everything is clear between us. Don't feel bad. I wasn't surprised, honestly. We knew where this was going. And there was never anything between us.” I was rambling, staring at my white knuckles on the frame of his truck.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you. In private.”

“Can you even be here? There isn't a big red curtain to hide you this time.”

“It's not a good idea. No. Please get in.”

“I’ll have to let my friends know.” I pulled out my cell phone and flipped it open. It was for emergencies only. I shoved it back in my pocket and hopped off the truck. I walked back into the Falcon, straight to the pool table. Britt was laughing at something Akia had said, and Christina was rolling her eyes at them, a fry hanging out of her mouth. She stood up at the sight of me. I wondered what she read on my face.

“What’s that look? Did someone break into the car?’

I shook my head. “Has any car in the history of Burlingame ever been broken into?”

“Probably not,” Britt confirmed, setting her pool stick down. “What’s up?”

“Bryan is out there. He's wanting me to go with him. To have a talk.”

“No fucking way.” Britt’s rejection of the idea was immediate, startling.

I reached for my jean jacket, shrugged my shoulders. Like I had no choice. And in my head, I didn’t. I would follow him anywhere.

I looked at Christina as I left. She mouthed I love you and I tried to smile.

We ended up at Bryan’s house. A place I had seen, but never thought I would enter. It was located behind the church. Bryan parked in the back. There were no other vehicles around, but I still wondered at the risk he was taking, bringing me there.

I followed him inside, noting everything. The wide-open entryway, the formal dining room to the left, the office to the right. A staircase made of dark wood, and a grandfather clock in the foyer. He took the steps two at a time and my heart thundered in my chest. We were going to his bedroom. Fuck.

I followed him into the room, my hands wringing, knuckles white. The room was clean, sparse. White walls and a navy comforter. A desk in the corner with a small lamp. The window had large white blinds, the expensive kind, not the shitty plastic ones that covered my window. He had his own bathroom. I saw him walk into it, turning on the water, washing his hands.

I walked to his bed, my eyes on everything. My foot started to tap the floor nervously. “I think I’m sweating,” I said. Bryan turned off the light in his bathroom and came back into his bedroom.

“What? Are you hot?”

“No. I’m nervous. I don’t like being in here.” I had verbal diarrhea and I needed to get it under control. I started to fan my face dramatically. I wondered if it was red and splotchy, the way it got when I had to direct a scene in drama class. I was so much better at writing things out.

“I’m sorry. Don’t be nervous. I just wanted to talk to you again and not worry about any interruptions. My parents are gone. My brother could be here, I never know.” He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

I stared up at the ceiling, my heart running more wild when Bryan walked toward me. He didn’t come to his bed, instead he passed me. He pulled the chair out from under his desk and spun it around, taking a seat.

“You looked happy today with your friends. It made me happy.”

“Oh, yeah?” I stopped fanning myself, placed my sweaty palms on my jean clad knees. “What else makes you happy these days?”

“Can you just know that this kills me?”

“Okay. I know now. You told me.” It wasn’t like me to talk to him like this. This was the snark and bite I reserved for others. But it felt good to actually be myself with him. I fell back on his bed and groaned, making a show. His comforter was plush and soft. I was surrounded by his scent, this place reserved for him and only him. Had Aurora been in this bed? I’m sure he had already found a way to sneak her up here, too. I heard Bryan moving, pushing his desk chair back in, so I sat up. “What are you doing? I liked you over there. Where I can watch you.”

“I know you like to watch me.” His voice was changed. I didn’t know how I felt about it. He didn’t stop moving. I eyed him. Suspicious and visibly annoyed, as he came over to the bed, and sat next to me.

“This is a lovely home you have.” I was stalling, panicking.

“Thanks. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“I know that.”

“Oh, yeah. I haven’t seen you in church lately.”

“My dad has been a pushover. He keeps buying my excuses. I think he just doesn’t want to know the truth. He suspects boy stuff.”

“I’m boy stuff, huh.” He turned to me, brushed the hair from my face.

“Stop that.” I pulled away, grabbed his wrist. A mistake. The touch was small, pulling, for both of us.

His mouth was on my neck first. I sighed, relenting. It was the first mouth to my neck. The first kiss anywhere but my lips. The first kiss of acceptance. Of giving in to our many mistakes.