[High school romance]
Bad girl x good boy
"Don't be shy, Boris. If you want me to do something, to do something to you, to touch you the certain way or something else, you should just ask and I'm gladly going to do it. But don't be shy and embarrass...
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"So", Mencía begins, shoving a French fry in her mouth, "care to tell me why are you glowing like that?"
I tilt my head, while, as well, shoving a French fry in my mouth. Even though I had almost the whole cotton candy, the moment Mencía and I sat in this small bar, where she said the food was delicious, but not as expensive as it was in McDonald's, plus she swore that the portion was bigger, my mouth began to water when I smelled onion, and oil which scent found its way to my nostrils even from the kitchen.
My plate is still half-full because she wasn't kidding- the portions are not big, but enormous, and I wonder if I can bring some of the food to grandpa and Scar. Scar would definitely like the meat. I mean, I know it's not bacon, but he still has a big crush on meat.
Mencía's finger brush mine, while she takes a French fry from the common box we ordered.
"Hm, Luna?" My eyes dart from her hands with pink nails to her piercing eyes which color I again can't decipher. The light in our boot is kinda darker, and there's no window here so the outside can't help me, either, enlightening her face that is covered with small shadow, and the only thing I can see on it is the grin curling on her lips.
"I...", I trail off, not knowing what to tell her. First off I didn't know that I wasglowing. That I was still smiling just like when I was with Boris.
Boris.
"Boris?" She tilts her head, and I pull my hand from the box with salty potatoes and cover my mouth. Damn, I didn't know that I said that out loud.
She chuckles and takes a napkin. And wipes her mouth, yet the nude lipstick still lingers on her lips, not smudged at all, and I can't help but wonder how expensive it must be. Every time I apply a red lipstick it ends up smudged all over my mouth, and not to mention on my teeth that seem to love my lipstick. So much, since they are always smudged with it, even though I make sure not to apply a make-up product on them.
"C'mon, Luna, it's okay. I won't tell anyone. I won't tell Manuel" she emphasizes his name. "Tell me about this Boris boy."
"Um, well...", my lips curl in a smile, while I place my hands on my lap, deciding to leave my sandwich and ask the workers to pack it, so I can give it to my Scar. "He... he goes to school with me."
"You go to school?", she confuses, frowning. "Which grade are you?"
"I'm senior."
"Oh, I didn't know that. So, how old is that?" She studies my face with her narrowed eyes. "18?"
"17", I correct her.
"17", she repeats, whispering, and averting her gaze, thinking.
"How old are you?", I ask the question I wanted to ask for so long.
"24." 24. She is seven years older than me. She must be feeling like she's with a child. And I really do act sometimes like a child.
