I don’t know what is wrong with Mike. One minute he’s helping me down the dusty bank then he is throwing a bucket of cold water over me during the heat of the summer. We went back to school last week after the break and now he is ignoring me, I probably deserve it. I told all of my friends what happened over the summer and they think he is a douchebag. Mike is ashamed, embarrassed, a laughing stock at school. He doesn’t deserve it. I try and break the solid frozen ice with Mike on the way home from school.
We slip down into a side street. I talk to Mike; tell him he was a fool for treating me like he did. He leant forward and kissed me, I knew the freshly formed ice between us was melting as He put his tongue in my mouth and I pushed mine into his. The heat of his breath drifted over my cool cheeks and I felt myself warm as his arms encircled me. I lean against, the brick as it scratches welts into my back and I feel Mike press into me.
He froze again as his rigid parts stuck in my overgrown fleshy, newly ripened body, Mike’s face lit with a beautiful crimson glow, which grew more vibrant as I pulled him closer and felt him push his body back against my innocence. I pull him into me even more, the stiffness of his body digging into my stomach beneath my school shirt. He grips my lower back as I force my tongue into his mouth, wet awkward tongues dancing around in virgin mouths.
I pushed him back away from me, looked at the floor, and felt my cheeks burn a fiery red to match his and I tell him no, not here. We can make this special. I walk back up the side street and look either side as I leave and wait for Mike to follow me home. He shouts at me as he rushes past and I panic thinking he would know what I wanted from him. I needed him to tell me I’m pretty, to stroke my body in the way I wanted, and he did.
It didn’t take long before we became teenage lovers. Hardly Romeo and Juliet, we snuck in and out of each other’s houses during snatched moments of rampant stupidity. None of it was protected by the sensibilities of young adulthood, we were children yet we were no longer innocent. Sliding down the dusty bank became a hasty moment of kissing and sensuality then bikes were still rode to faraway places with an end goal.
We were no longer carefree. I’d destroyed my own innocence because I wanted to try something once and it was unfair that Mike could go out and play football with his mates and I was at home waiting for him to knock. It was all a lie though. I’d found an addiction, and I was going to fulfill it.