He grinned, that crooked thing he did where one dimple showed and the other hid. “You were making a face.”
Lena and Caleb had been dating for exactly six weeks—long enough to know each other’s coffee orders, not long enough to have said the big thing. They were sitting on the cracked bench outside the old bookstore, sharing earbuds and a sleeve of Oreos, when the first fat drop hit Caleb’s notebook. teen sex couple
When they kissed, it tasted like Oreo dust and rain and that particular bravery that only comes at seventeen—when everything is temporary, which makes everything feel like forever. He grinned, that crooked thing he did where
Caleb closed his sketchbook carefully, set it in his backpack, and then pulled the backpack under the bench to keep it dry. Then he took Lena’s cold hands in his. When they kissed, it tasted like Oreo dust
And Lena would save the message. Not because it was poetry. But because it was true.
“And?”
He leaned in, close enough that his nose bumped hers. “It’s not the way you look. It’s the way I feel when I’m looking.”