Virgin Lips

15. Joanna loves Harry Potter

I froze. Of all the possible things I could have done, I did the worst. I froze. I mean, what are you supposed to do anyway? When your allegedly gay neighbor comes up and kisses you?

At first it was just a peck on the lips, but as his grip on my hips tightened the slightest, I started feeling he was pushing for more. And when those very same hands moved to cup my neck as Ben deepened the kiss, I realized. This was no mistake, no random moment. He wanted it.

It was painfully slow, but in the end I unfroze, bit by bit, and started following his movements. I had no idea what I was doing, this was the first time ever, but even though I've never been impulsive, something told me I had to follow my instincts just this once. I had to.

I realized I'd been gripping his shirt only when, much to my own surprise, I pulled him closer. Ben was glad. He smiled against my lips, which he traced with his tongue, until he finally went in. So this is what a real kiss looks like? The feverish search for each other, the frenetic beats of the heart, the dizziness that blurries your sight, even though your eyes are closed, so you're not seeing anything at all. Is this what it feels like to be kissed?

I was tired, sleepy, worn out in every possible way; my uniform was sticking to me and I'm pretty sure I smelled of fried chicken mixed with bleach; I was probably sweating too, not to mention my breath was way less than ideal. And yet ... Ben was unmoving.

He finally moved only when I half choked on saliva – whether it was his or mine, I don't even want to know –, so he realized he'd kept me from breathing for too long. Now I know the true meaning of breathtaking.

Ben left his forehead against mine, and I didn't have the courage to open my eyes again, but I did hear him let out a tiny chuckle against my lips. He seemed just as out of breath and mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted. It was as if that single kiss had been enough to leave everlasting scars on the both of us. I know I felt scorched, and not just because it wasy my first real kiss, or because it came from the most unexpected person, but because I felt something deep within me. A fire I'd only known years ago, back to when I was passionate about my dreams and working towards that goal was the limitless fuel that kept me on, pushing me further and further.

"So ..." Ben finally spoke, his voice hoarsely low, then let out a small nervous laugh as his thumb traced my lips, "I ... someone's looking for you."

I blinked my eyes open, confused. Did I dream of it? "What?"

Ben pulled back the slightest, hinting at my pocket. "Your phone."

"Oh." I don't need to answer, do I? "Uh ..."

"Go on." Ben pulled back with a small smile, yet remaining just a few inches away from me.

Albeit confused as to why would he think that a call - probably my parents - would be so important as to break that fairy tale moment, I fished my phone in my pockets, and I did what I normally never would, in my right mind: I answered the call without checking the ID first. Now, if you're an introvert, you know that we need some preparation before human interaction, calls included, and in the state I was in - flustered, cheeks flushed, my heart racing - I was in the worst possible predicament to have a conversation with anyone else that wasn't Ben. But maybe he wanted to use that interruption as an excuse to get out of an otherwise awkward moment arisen from an impetuous act he most definitely regretted already.

"Hello?" I couldn't tear my eyes off Ben – and I hate eye contact, mind you –, but neither could he. His juicy lips were curved in a sweet smile as stared at me the same way I'd stare at a smoking hot pepperoni pizza that just came out of the oven.

"Joanna?" A male voice called from the phone.

"Yes?"

"Oh finally the right number! You have no idea how many Joanna Brooks live in New York City."