taps his cheek. “Kiss me here.”
“I won’t!”
“Fine.” He lets his arm drop to his side before he sneakily pulls on my hair.
“Ow!”
“What?”
“I told you not to do that anymore.”
“You didn’t give me what I wanted. Why should I give you what you want?”
“You’re such a…a…”
“You can’t find the word?”
“A tosser!”
“I’m fine with that. Are you going to kiss me or should I bother you until Cynthia comes to pick you up?”
“Why do you want me to kiss your cheek?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Because.”
“Tell me why or I won’t do it.”
He pauses, his smile disappearing. Cole doesn’t like it when he’s cornered. Finally, he speaks quietly. “You haven’t done it to any other boys.”
It’s my turn to smile. “Because you want my firsts?”
He nods. “Now do it or I’ll pull your hair again.”
“Say please.”
“I’m not saying please,” he mocks. “Do it or I’ll pull on your hair.”
“Then I’ll just kiss Aiden’s cheek and you’ll lose that first forever.”
Cole’s nostrils flare and I fold my arms, feeling smug.
“You’ll regret this,” he says.
“Don’t care.”
He takes a deep breath. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Silver,” he warns. He only uses my given name when he’s mad or wants me to do something.
“You have to say the whole sentence.”
He grits his teeth but speaks in a calm voice. “Please kiss me on the cheek.”
I do.
Placing a hand on the bench, I lean over and brush my lips against his right cheek. The contact is brief, but for some reason, my face heats and I quickly pull back.
He’s smirking.
Why is he smirking?
Cole taps his left cheek. “Now, the other one.”
“We only agreed on one cheek.”
“We only agreed on a cheek, we didn’t specify which one. I wanted the left one.”
“Fine.” I want to feel his skin again anyway.
He leans in slightly so his left cheek is in front of me. But the moment my lips are about to make contact with his skin, he abruptly turns his head and his mouth seals to mine.
For a second, I’m too stunned to react. His lips are soft and feel fuller than they look.
And now, they’re on mine.
I reel back in shock, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. My cheeks are so hot, I feel like they’ll explode.
“W-w-w-why d-did you d-do t-that?!” I point a shaky finger at him. It’s like I can’t speak anymore.
Another smirk lifts his lips. The lips I just kissed. “Because.”
“Cole, you…you…”
“Tosser?” he completes for me, tilting his head.
“I wish you’d die —” I pause, realising what I said. Those words should never be said, not after what happened with Mum recently. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I’m fine if you do. Besides, you’re the only one to blame for this.”
“Me?”
“I told you you’d regret it. Don’t threaten me again, Butterfly. You’ll never win against me.”
I hit his shoulder with a closed fist. “Go away!”
“Or what? You’ll stop acting like a lady? You already have. Ladies don’t punch.”
“Shut up and go.”
“All right, all right. A deal is a deal. I’m going.” He staggers to his feet, still smiling in that infuriating way, taunting me, making me want to punch him in the throat.
“I hate you.” I glare up at him. His shadow is camouflaging the sun and his presence is blocking everything else.
He ruffles my hair, making the golden strands fly everywhere, before he places a palm on the top of my head and leans down so his face is level with mine.
There’s no smile on his lips as he speaks with an edge to the tone of his voice. “Hate me all you want, but keep our promise. All your firsts are mine.”
Silver
Age fourteen
My mum said I could do better.
I could be more sophisticated, more elegant, and just…more.
I pushed Kimberly away because if I hadn’t, Mum would’ve hurt her in some way. Mum’s too direct and doesn’t think twice before saying truths — no matter how ugly they are. She doesn’t care about who she crushes on her way to success. She doesn’t stop to think about the consequences for other people. She simply doesn’t feel like the rest of us do.
Or if she ever did, that part of her died after the divorce. Or, rather, three years ago. It’s like she killed a part of herself in that tub.
Since then, I don’t want to test her in any way. If she says I’m to change friends, I change friends. If she says I shouldn’t wear a certain thing, I don’t. If she says I shouldn’t listen to rock music, I don’t. At least, not in public.