No, Maybe, Yes.

Chapter 2: NO.

Mikayla, fourteen years old.

Kellan fifteen years old.

Kellan's POV.

Mik's parents took her to Paris for Christmas, it was the first Christmas that I was going to spend without her, not that I was complaining.

I didn't really like Christmas, I didn't get the point of it all, we put up Christmas lights and then give each other presents and then what?

So stupid.

Mik didn't think so, she loved Christmas, it was her favourite holiday and she always got me a Christmas present even though I never got her one.

Mik's parents took her phone for the entirety of their trip cause she wasn't paying attention to their "family time" so she used the phonebooth outside their hotel suite to call me every night.

Hence why I was sitting in the movie room, in the dark, landline phone on my lap, waiting for her call while I rewatched evil dead rise.

My father would disapprove of that behavior if he were home but he flew to Tennessee with my twin brother Marcus.

I stayed home with Mom, mostly because I couldn't stand my father and my brother was his favourite while I was the.... Freak.

The phone rung with a freightening sound, reminding me of the horror classic scream.

I picked it up, pressing the phone against my ear with a smile.

"Hello, Kellan, what's your favourite scary movie?" She mimicked the ghost face voice.

I smiled wider at the fact that she thought about the same movie, the same thing.

"You being the killer would be the biggest plot twist in history of horror movies." I respond.

"How about me getting kissed by a french boy on Christmas Eve?" She asked or informed, I didn't know, it sounded like both.

I swallowed and felt my skin turn hot, my heart raced faster and I had to take three deep breaths to calm my insides.

She kissed someone.

Mik was fourteen, every fourteen year old girl I knew had already been kissed.

I tried to kiss her once, on her thirteenth birthday, we were watching Saw and she was scared, she held my arm and I froze, she asked me if I was okay and that's when I tried to kiss her but then she slapped me and ran home.

She gave me the silent treatment for two whole weeks.

Worst two weeks of my life.

But then she and I had set up an arrangement before she went to Paris, we agreed to take each other's virginities as soon as she came back, we'd still remain friends afterwards, we just wanted to be each other's firsts and then move on with our lives.

Best part? It was her idea.

"Okay, Emily in Paris, you've been there for like two days and you're already kissing french boys?" I straightened out my tone, trying my best not to sound jealous.

"I've been here for the entire holiday, Louis is cute, you know how I feel about cute boys." I could practically hear her smile over the phone.

Louis.

I wondered if Louis was tall or short or chubby or skinny and most importantly, I wondered what he whispered to her right before he kissed her.

"How was it then?" I asked, picturing her kissing someone who was not me.