Love Her

Part 11

We ate lunch together again.

She tried to describe impossible things like her love of the taste of lipstick- sweet, slightly resinous, but still pleasant. One of her hands twitched, and I noticed that there were shallow, barely healed scrapes across the heel of her palm. Even though it was obviously not a serious injury, it still disturbed me. I considered the location and decided she must have tripped. That seemed a reasonable explanation, all things considered.

We got out of our last class a bit early. In the bright fluorescent light, the atmosphere of the hallway yielded normalcy. We stopped in front of her locker and she stared longingly into my eyes. The depth of her eyes was communicating with mine. I put my hand over hers and moved it to my cheek.

I breathed in her intoxicating aroma while the electric pulse that always came from our touch surged through my body. The warmth radiated off of her skin and deep into my body. My breathing kicked up a notch, sanding the walls of my throat. It was like there had never been any hole in my chest. I was perfect - not healed, but as if there had been no wound in the first place.

"Not here," she whispered.

I nodded and released her hand.

I felt the sudden urge to bring our lips together and tell her how much I loved her.

The words were exiting my mouth before I made the decision to do so. "I love you," I stated.

Her face softened at my words. "Now, please try to behave yourself," she pleaded as I quickly bent down and brushed my lips lightly across hers. She didn't move but her heart raced and she parted her lips with a sigh. I inhaled copious amounts of her breath into my lungs, feeling it send waves of heat down my throat.

I couldn't imagine my life without Melissa now. I cringed away from the idea of even trying to imagine that. Somehow, she'd become essential to my survival.

Her eyes suddenly opened as she remembered where we were. "Someone could see!" she whispered harshly.

"This is the twenty-first century."

Her face was so adorable when she was upset or angry. I couldn't help but smile at her. She began to pout, so I apologized. "I'm sorry. Come over?"

She stared straight ahead, and her teeth bit into her lip again. Her hands were balled into tight fists in her lap. Her breathing hitched and broke. Her face became content before she answered. "Sure."

The bell rang just then, signaling the end of school.

We walked to my house, holding hands.

"Should we make it official?"

She looked at me quizzedly.

"As your girlfriend, I mean."