This is a regular column featuring original poetry and fiction by and for teens, provided by Figment, the online community writing site for young readers and writers.
By Mackenzie Bath
Finally we’re alone. It’s not that I don’t love Molly, Matt, and Zeke, because I do, but I’ve been waiting for a chance to be alone with Jerome for the past two days. Every year we go on this camping trip, but this year it’s different. Jerome and I are dating now, and naturally we don’t want to do every single thing with our group of friends. Our friends don’t seem to get that.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks me teasingly. He knows what I’m thinking. Based on the look in his clear blue eyes, he’s thinking the same thing.
In this clearing in the woods, nothing else seems to exist. The others decided to go on a hike tonight, and we opted to stay back. It took over ten minutes and several pointed looks before Matt got that we wanted to be left alone. Sometimes it’s like they forget we’re dating. Maybe it’s because we’ve all been best friends since kindergarten.
Before I can say anything to him, he leans down and kisses me. We’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks, but already this is familiar. His hand tilting my chin so my lips can reach his, the gentle smile that plays across both of our mouths just before they meet in a kiss and his chest pressed against mine.
“Sorry, I forgot my flashlight,” A voice behind me stutters.
I whip around to see Matt, wildly blushing. Words escape me as I try to apologize. Before Jerome and I got together, Matt and I used to flirt all the time. I’m a flirt, I know that, but lately I’ve been thinking Matt thought it was something more. Now I don’t know what to do about it, so I mostly ignore it.
“I think I know where it is. I’ll go get it,” Jerome says, and his sandy blonde head disappears in the tent.
Matt walks over to me and looks me right in the eyes. How could I not love that chocolate color? He’s one of my best friends. This can’t be awkward, can it? I mean, we’re seventeen. We’re more mature than that, right?
He leans close to me, “Zoe, he’s not right for you,” my mouth drops open, “Everyone knows it. He goes through girls like Molly goes through phones. They get a brand new one every few weeks and then toss them once they’re broken. You can do better than that.”
“Apparently I can’t,” I bite back, referring to the fact that Jerome is only my third boyfriend, and the first two didn’t end very well. If this were anyone else, I wouldn’t have said that. But this is Matt. He already knows everything about me.
Jerome calls from the tent that he’s still looking, and Matt takes advantage of my distraction. His mouth falls on mine easily, we’re the same height, and everything is different. I feel like I’m on fire, but in a good way. There’s no way to explain it. Matt pulls back and whispers, “Yes you can, Zoe. You’re perfect.”
Wow. Jerome shines the flashlight at us and Matt says he decided not to go on the hike after all. All three of us climb into the tent and Jerome puts his arm around me. The only thing I can think of is Matt’s kiss. It’s going to be a long trip.