Standing Still

Chapter 16: Plush Panda Bears are Always the Answer

(This is, again, not edited. Sorry.)

Over the course of the next three nights, Aiden and I developed a system. At three fifteen, he would call me on my walk home from school and ask if I wanted to come over. I would, avoiding the harshness everywhere in my house, and we would eat homemade pizza, Mac and cheese, and hot dogs - respectively about the only things I could cook. (Aiden, on the other hand, was a very good cook, although he'd tell you he couldn't boil water to save his life.) We would watch some cartoons with Sophie - typically it alternated between Strawberry Shortcake and Friends and Looney Tunes - and then, after we did some sort of other activity, like coloring or playing dress up, it was their bedtime. So I would take Ben, tucking him into the bend of my elbow, grateful that Aiden could bounce him to sleep so effortlessly. From there, I would carry him up to his crib while Aiden carried Sophie, and after the lights were shut off and the eyes were closed, we would go up to his roof.

We were smarter about it now than we had been the first night, where it turned severely cold within just a few minutes. Now, Aiden let me borrow his sweatshirt and a scarf of his sister's, and we brought a plush, heavy bedspread that he didn't use anymore. We'd wrapped it around ourselves, huddling close for warmth, and just talked. It seemed we were talking all the time now, spending many free moments together, but still, somehow, it was never boring.

The night before, I'd fisted the blanket in my hands, pulling it tightly around me as I fought off the cold nighttime air. Everything was silent, the only sound I could hear being Aiden's breathing, and I decided that I wanted to talk to him about something. Something I hadn't yet told him, for reasons I wasn't sure of. After all, I knew he'd be happy for me, so what was the big deal? "Hey," I'd said, turning my head to look at him. "So, um, Dylan asked me out the other day."

It was difficult to keep the smile off my face, especially since this was the first time I was actually saying it out loud to anybody. I was still thrilled, even after ninety-something hours.

His eyebrows raised. "Really?"

I nodded, biting my lip to control the smile. "Yeah, he texted me afterward and asked for Saturday."

"That's great."

"It is kind of great, isn't it?" I asked, my nose scrunching with a smile as I turned my head back to the sky.

"Yeah, now all you need is for him to kiss you and then you're home free." He coughed into his elbow, then started to chew his upper lip. He did that often - bite his lip - but it varied. Sometimes it was upper, sometimes it was lower - I needed to figure out what each one meant.

I swallowed, the noise sounding loud in my ears. I picked at my cuticles, the happiness suddenly fading, replaced by a pang of worry. Oh, god, I thought, What if he does try to kiss me? I'd never considered the thought before, seeing as how I was shocked he even wanted to go out with me in the first place, much less put his lips on mine. His lips, though, were not exactly unappealing...

I cleared my throat. "You think he'll kiss me?" I asked, looking up at him, my heart picking up speed.

He shrugged, giving a nod. "Yeah. I mean, why wouldn't he? If he asked you out, there's a good chance his interest is of the romantic nature." For some reason, he wouldn't meet my eyes.

I looked at my hands, closing my fingers around each other, and sucked in a deep breath. Oh, no. "What do I do if that happens? If he tries to kiss me, I mean." I was sure my face was filled with worry, since when he finally looked at me, his expression was one of confusion.

"Well... typically, it's customary to kiss someone back..."

I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut. "I know that! I just... I've never had a first kiss, and I'll probably be horrible at it. Like, I'll be too into it or not into it enough and it'll freak him out and he'll never want to kiss me again, and nobody will ever want to kiss me again, and-"