Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
December 23rd, 1987 — Salem, MA 11:45 PM, EST
Kissing Robbo had felt magical.
Now, as Shelby reflected back on the moment as she laid awake in bed, she was inexplicably confused.
Robbo was a great kisser, he really was. And Shelby really liked kissing him, she really did.
But — something didn't feel right. As soon as he'd kissed her, she'd felt her insides turn to mush. She was putty in his hands, as long as his lips were on hers. It was a certain kind of magic, the spell someone could place on a person by just locking lips with them. It was great — until Shelby had opened her eyes again and saw the face that was looking down at her.
Tony.
No, it wasn't Tony. Not really. It was Robert Everett, that was 100% certain. While she had been kissing Robbo, her mind had drifted elsewhere, off to a boy that was miles and miles away in New York. A boy that was also her best friend. A boy that she had never, not ever, thought about kissing until that night.
She didn't even like Tony in that way! She liked Robbo! She really liked Robbo — he was so cute and funny and charming, and he made her smile.
After ice cream, they'd gotten back to the Everett home and snuck up to Robbo's bedroom, where they'd made out some more. Thankfully, Shelby's thoughts had been cleared of any Tony intrusions. It must have been just a one-time thing. A fluke. An accident. She wasn't quite sure why her brain had made that kind of mistake, but it had, and now she was thinking about it.
She had stayed the night in Robbo's bedroom, and he was sleeping peacefully beside her. Shelby, on the other hand, was wide awake and staring at the ceiling, wondering why she had thought of Tony when Robbo had kissed her and wondering why it bothered her so much. Maybe it was guilt — she and Rob were Tony's two best friends, and they were kinda-sorta together. Yeah, that's what it was. Had to be.
Robbo rolled over in his sleep, his brown hair tousled into a disheveled mess. Shelby smiled to herself, wishing she had a camera nearby that she could use to quickly snap a picture. It was cute, seeing him so relaxed and ... well, quiet. The boy wasn't often without some kind of noise.
Shelby was overthinking things. It didn't mean anything, kissing Robbo and thinking of Tony. She knew in her brain that was true. She was always overthinking things. That was part of what would make her a great engineer — she always paid attention to detail.
She smiled to herself and pulled the covers up to her chin, then closed her eyes and hoped for sleep.
