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n o v i c e

He was the last person I expected to meet that afternoon. I was heading out of school, struggling with some last-minute worksheets that I had forgotten to stuff into my folder. As I passed the gates, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the wall.

It was Declan, his posture relaxed and calm as he surveyed me slowly, his arms folded across his expansive chest. When he spotted me, his expression lit up.

"Oh, there you are," He greeted, as if I was a missing person. I failed to mention how that was, indeed, the exact way I felt at times. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"What's up?"

Declan pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to me. "You are," He said, lifting his hand towards me. "Did you do this?"

I spotted the flash of cherry red as soon as his palm unclasped, the perfect knot sitting on the calloused bowl of his hand.

My first instinct was to lie. "No."

"Bullshit," Declan retorted, fairly quickly. "I saw you take it out of your mouth when I was leaving the class."

"And you've been carrying this knot around for the whole day?"

"So you did make the knot, then?" His gleaming, triumphant eyes told me there was no use arguing with him. Oh, what the hell, it wasn't that big a deal.

"Well, yes," I admitted, hitching my bag higher up my shoulder as it began to slip off. "But that knot was in my mouth for minutes. It's coated with germs and saliva, and that's just bloody gross, Declan. Throw it away."

Declan shrugged, chucking the cherry knot into a nearby bin, and said quite seriously, "Fine, but I need your help."

I eyed him suspiciously. There was no knowing what Declan was going to say, or do, he was as unpredictable as the wind, a hurricane too wild and reckless to handle. "What is it, then?"

"Teach me how to kiss."

It was difficult to take Declan seriously, especially since he was a master at cracking stupid jokes. Stunned, I stared at him for a long moment before saying incredulously, "That's not funny."

"I'm not being funny," He replied, in annoyance, passing a frustrated hand through his curls. "I need you to teach me how to kiss."

I gaped at him. Clearly, he'd had gone bat-shit crazy. "What does that even mean?"

"I'm shite at kissing," he stated, exasperation lacing his voice as he struggled to explain. "I don't know what it is with me, but I'm always too chicken to kiss a girl when we're dating, or I go in and accidentally bonk her head or do something stupid. And, obviously, you're good at kissing since you can tie a cherry knot with your bloody tongue!"

My mind was in a whirl. I'd seen Declan with his arms draped around different girls for so long that I never realised he had his own fair share of problems. I never realised that maybe, just maybe, he had his insecurities as well.

"Tying a cherry knot means nothing!" I told him, patiently. "It doesn't define whether you're a good kisser or not."

"Well, kiss me and find out."

Right, that was it. Declan had officially lost his mind.

"Excuse me?" I stuttered out, at last.

He rolled his eyes and took two steps forward.

My eyes widened in alarm as I realised what he was actually doing. "Hold on, wait a sec - "

But there was no waiting, no hold on, no second guessing, and in the next instant, the gap between us closed. His lips were flush against mine, the brief rubbing of his lips against mine lasted for about a second, or two, before he pried my lips open, his tongue slipping in and entangling with mine.

And I was kissing Declan Harte.

It was all in the moment. And in that moment, my heart raced, my knees felt weak, and my toes curled. I wanted nothing more than the sink my fingers into his hair, pull him closer, deepen the kiss, anything. All too soon, he pulled away. My eyes flew open - I hadn't even realised they were closed. And his breathing was uneven, so was mine, as we gazed at each other, stunned by what had just happened.

"See?" He said, at last, his voice unexpectedly rough. "I'm shite at kissing."

I did not see. It was obvious that Declan Harte was ignorant of the basic rules of kissing - he was too eager, too rushed, too much tongue, too little lips. Yet this did not make a difference, I was affected by the kiss, and wasn't that all that mattered?

Still, I kept my thoughts to myself. Meeting his eyes and holding his gaze, I mustered a weak smile.

"Well, yes, you're absolutely horrible at snogging."

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There was no way of explaining why I did what I did next. Later on, I found myself unlocking the front door of my house, Declan waiting patiently behind me. He was smoking, despite my particular pet peeve of that bad habit, the smoke rolling out from the corner of his mouth as he sucked on his cigarette thoughtfully and silently on the walk back to my house.

The lock gave way as I twisted the key, and I pushed open the door, stepping in first and propping it open for Declan. He dropped the cigarette on the floor, stubbing it out with the heel of his shoe.

But when he glanced up and noticed the very unamused look I was giving him, his lips quirked up into a brief smirk, and he leaned down to pick the cigarette up.

We hung our coats on the coat-stand. "Dust-bin's over there," I muttered, pointing to the lone basket that sat in the corner of the living room.

Declan went to throw away his smoke, then turned to me. "So, Miss McAllister," He said, giving me a mock salute. "When's our little kissing lesson going to begin?"

I faltered. "Um, upstairs, I guess? In my room."

"Kinky," He pointed out, with his signature grin. "I like kinky."

I found myself rolling my eyes at his immature comment. "Oh, shut up."

When Declan came up to my room, all he saw was the room of an average teenage girl. The faded pink wallpaper from my late childhood years, where I went through an everything-pink phase. The vanity in the corner, full-length mirror, bed covered perfectly with a royal blue quilt.

"Nice room," Declan commented, as he sauntered in. He sat himself down on the big swivel chair at my study desk, and patted his lap. "Come over here, baby."

Like I said, Declan was the epitome of immaturity. I rolled my eyes and placed a carton of cherries and a banana on the table, both of which I had swiped from the kitchen on the way up.

"No," I said, mildly. "You're going to have to practice first."

"On the banana?"

"On the cherries. The banana is mine."

"That's what she said," He mused, chuckling to himself.

Ignoring his stupid comment, I sat myself on the table and began to unpeel the banana. I was about to take a bite of it when I noticed Declan staring intensely at me with a gleam in his eyes, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Get along with that cherry knot," I told him, shortly.

"Fine, fine," He grumbled, reaching over to the bowl and popping a cherry into his mouth. "Although, I must admit, this is really quite a turn-on. Me sitting here, and you up there on the table with the banana - "

With a tiny smile playing on my lips, I chomped down on the banana, cleanly severing the tip of it off. My teeth closed together with a sharp audible click, and Declan trailed off, his expression almost appalled as he realised what I'd just done.

"Way to kill the mood," He muttered, under his breath.

I smiled. Despite our differences, I could tell this was going to be fun.