The 10th of november arrived faster than you thought it would, didn't it?
As promised, here is the next chapter!! ENJOY!

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It’s 6am on a Sunday morning, I’m cold, the rollers in my hair are giving me a headache and I need coffee. ASAP.

What happened, you ask?

Brad happened.

The fête didn’t start til 11 but I got a literal ‘wake-up call’ at 5:30am from Brad, telling me he was downstairs at my front door and that I needed to let him in.

“Rise and shine Babe, it’s time to get dressed up.” He said chipperly as he waltzed right in, ignoring my squinty half asleep eyes and bedhead.

“Brad what the heck are you doing here? I thought I was just going to meet you at the fête.” I said, feeling annoyed, and sleepy.

“Change of plans, I have to get there early to help set up which means you have to get there early too. Now hurry up and start getting ready.” He explained with a matter-of-fact tone.

“What, that doesn’t even make sen –  alright you know what, just give me 30 minutes and I’ll be ready.” I gave up, it was way too early in the morning to argue with someone who was just not going to take no for an answer.

“No, it’s going to take longer than that if we’re going to make you look like a ‘sweet, eligible young lady’.” He said concretely.

“Gee thanks,” I replied sarcastically with a yawn, “honestly, I promise you it won’t take long, I’ll just take a shower, brush my teeth, put on my dress and we can go. 30 minutes TOPS. Now can I please go back to bed for 5 more minutes?” I pleaded desperately.

“Shower, brush your teeth, then get back down here because I’ve got something to tell you, and THEN you can sleep for another hour.” He said reluctantly with his arms crossed.

“Yes!” I cried out happily, racing upstairs.

_____________________________________________________

“Alright, make whatever it is you want to tell me quick, because my bed is calling me.” I said to Brad as I walked down the stairs back into the living room.

“Ok Ava I’ll make it short. Come here,” he said innocuously. But there was something in his eyes that gave me the feeling he was up to something,

“The truth is,” he whispered, causing me to lean in to hear him better, “I lied about letting you sleep in.”

And before I could say or do anything in protest, Brad scooped me up and carried me straight out of my own house, even taking the time to lock the door as we went.

“Motherf*cker you lying bastard, Brad let me go! This is kidnapping, where are we going?  F*ck you Brad, F*ck you.” I yelled as I kicked and flailed and beat at him with my fists.

“Calm down Ava you’re going to injure me!” He protested as I nearly freed myself from his grip.

“Uh, THAT’S THE POINT DUMBASS.” I answered back, continuing to shout obscenities at him as he somehow managed to open his car door and dump me in the passenger’s seat.

“We’re going to the salon so stop with the potty mouth and pipe down. Do you want to get back at Melissa or what?” He ordered, exasperated.

“Yes sir,” I mumbled quietly as I sat up obediently and put my seatbelt on.

_________________________________________________________

I didn’t realise, that this charity fête was such a big deal to the debutante league or Elizabeth Weatherly society or whatever, but according to Brad, it was socialite and future socialite heaven. Even though it’s supposed to be a festival type thing, held in honour of charity and such, underneath it all, it’s a chance for these girls to make connections with the elite, because apparently who you associate with, can be worth more than money.

“It’s brutal out there Babe,” He said as he handed me a much needed cup of coffee as an apology, “It’s all cheek-to-cheek air kisses and fake compliments and rehearsed giggling. They’re smiling but you watch their eyes, I tell you, you make a false move in front of the higher up mothers, and you will be on the receiving end of a glare that would turn Medusa to stone.” He explained.

Brad seemed to be an expert at navigating the field, I’d give him that.

“I’m sure glad I only have to face those girls, and their mothers, for one day.” I said as I gulped down my warm, aromatic, life-giving drink, careful not to ruin my manicure.

“Those mothers form the judging panel, you’re lucky you won’t have to compete in front of them.”

“Like a metaphorical panel of judges or are they actually judging girls competing with each other on how well they can suck up to the mothers?” I asked, slightly confused.

“No, I mean quite literally they are a panel of judges. Every year, come debutante season, there’s a competition held where all the debutantes, or at least the ones who can be bothered to participate, go against each other in what I feel is more of a war than friendly competition. The events rotate around from season to season, it started out as a beauty pageant but then we’ve had all sorts of things like talent shows, fashion shows you name it.”

“But why? What’s in it for them if they win?” I asked, as the coffee worked its magic and I found myself less irritated by the stylist tugging the rollers out of my hair.

“See that’s the thing, all of the moms in the ‘Society’ enter their eligible sons into what is basically a lucky dip prize pool except it’s not up to chance and none of them are feeling so lucky by the end of the night.  Of course, there are less guys than girls and the prize of winning the competition, is that the girls get to pick who they want to be their escort.” He concluded

“First place, first pick huh.” I remarked with a raised eyebrow, “Have you ever been entered into the prize pool?”

“Babe, please. I’ve been first pick for 3 years in a row since I was 17.” He said arrogantly.

“Oh ok Mr hotshot, what happened to the last 2 years then hmm? Who handed your ass to you?” I shot back cheekily.

“For your information, that was when I went to college and wasn’t here for debutante season. Which is why this year I’m not in the prize pool because I’m going to be back at Harvard by the time these ‘caterpillars turn into butterflies’.”  He said as he made fluttery butterfly hand gestures with his fingers.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud!

“Has Ryan ever b-“ I started to ask when I was interrupted by the makeup artist, “Excuse me Miss, I’m going to need you to stop talking so that your face doesn’t move while I work.”

“Mmkay” I mumbled as I tried not to move.

“Well I think now would be a great time to do Evaluation #3 seeing as you can’t protest about not being able to translate your feelings into numbers,” Brad said casually, utilising this opportunity to smoothly segue back to his psychology experiment.

“ARGH” I groaned from the back of my throat. Let me tell you a bit about Brad’s so-called ‘Evaluations.’

For the sake of ‘statistical evidence’ Brad has been asking me for the past few days, how strongly I feel about Ryan, by rating my emotions on a f*cked-up scale of 1-5 which can’t possibly be used legitimately.
In his words, ‘1 being you sort of like him, 5 being you’re so in love with him it’s driving you crazy.’

“Come on Babe, just answer the question. Use your fingers.” He said, laughing at my dismay.

I have issues with being able to accurately rate on an ordinal scale, the intensity of my feelings. It’s subjective, how precise could these answers possibly be? I could rant on and on about how it’s ridiculous trying to tell someone to translate their emotions into pure numbers. I did that the first time and I still lost to Brad.

“You’re running away from your feelings.” He said.

But actually, he’s probably right.

Wordlessly I lifted 3 fingers as the makeup artist worked on my closed eyes.

“Hmmm,” I heard him muse pretentiously, and in my mind I could just see his expression so clearly, slightly scrunched up in disapproval of my answer.

“I’m just going to write 3.5 down.” He said resolutely.

All I could do was take a deep breath and let it go. See that’s another thing about Brad, in the end he would just do what he wanted to do.

“Sigh disgruntledly all you like, but believe it or not we’re making some progress here.”  He responded, as if he could read my mind.

“Wait a sec, I’ll be right back” said Brad as I heard the sound of jingling sound of metal clinking against metal followed by footsteps that gradually faded away as Brad disappeared around the corner.

He returned with a mesh dry-cleaners bag, holding whatever garment was inside by the coat hanger hook.

“Where did you go?” I asked quickly as the makeup artist turned away for a second and I was finally able to open my eyes.

“Just to my car, I almost forgot to take this out of the boot,” He explained, “Ana owed me a favour,” He grinned at me as he unzipped the bag to reveal its contents.

“Brad…why would you call in your favour for me?” I asked, astounded by the impeccably cut, elegant short-sleeved pencil dress. Tea-rose pink and modestly elegant.

“You like it then?” Brad said happily, “Let’s just say you’re...an investment.” He smiled as he turned the dress around to show me the back.

And that’s when my face fell.

It had an open back.

“What’s wrong, you hate the back?” He looked to me for an answer, “is it because of your bra or something?”

“No I can take care of my bra, it’s just, if I wear that, I’ll be the most eligible young lady there ever was…that has a massive tattoo on her back.” I gulped.

I saw a twitch in Brad’s cool and collected façade; he hadn’t foreseen this glitch in his plan.
“Yeah that’s probably not going to go down so well with stealing the limelight from Melissa with the mothers...”

“Don’t you worry,” said one of the stylists breaking their silence, “We’ll leave your hair down to cover your back but just in case, there is such a thing as high coverage concealer, developed specifically to hide tattoos.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t get too hot today so the makeup doesn’t melt off or something,” Brad said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Hey, first of all, I’m not going to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West, and second of all, I hardly think I’m going to be working up a sweat at the cotton candy booth.” I argued.

“About that…now would probably be a good time to tell you.” He said shiftily, causing my suspicions about today’s itinerary to heighten.

“Tell me what exactly, Bradley?” I asked tersely, my eyes narrowing as I prepared myself for whatever curveball he was about to throw at me.

“There’s been a change of plans, turns out I didn’t sign you up for the cotton candy booth. I may have accidentally put you down for a different booth.’”

The way he was looking at me all fake-apologetic as I glared daggers at him, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was accidentally-on-purpose.

“Which booth Brad?” I muttered menacingly, 100% sure I was going to regret agreeing to let him help me.

“Well…”

___________________________________________________________________

RYAN’S POV

I never really minded going to these Charity fêtes before, mostly because when I was younger I used to go off with Jack and hang out with my friends, going on rides or playing other games.

Or at least I thought they were my friends.

When I left Winston prep after middle school, a lot of kids promised to keep in touch but none of them ever really did except Jack. That’s not to say there was bad blood or anything between us, but I guess people just grow and change and move in different directions. I’d like to think that we all just have busy lives, rather than assume the worst about them…

But growing up changes a lot of things. It wasn’t cool anymore to go on certain rides or wear certain clothes, hang out with certain people.  In recent years, seeing some of the people I used to be friends with again, was like meeting strangers for the first time. We’d all changed, but there were those that had changed for the worst.

I’m just thankful for the friends I have now.

“Come on Ryan, lighten up a little!” Said Jack, slapping me on the back encouragingly as we walked through the fête-grounds, “they really upped their game on this year’s fête, there are heaps of rides and booths that weren’t here last year.” He remarked.

“Sorry, I just had some things on my mind.” I apologised.

“Your girlfriend?” He grinned goofily as he stuffed his face with caramel corn.

“Ava’s not my girlfriend Jack.” I told him for the hundredth time.

“Whatever dude, the way you talk about her just makes me automatically think that she is.” He said, offering me some of his sugary popcorn.  “And in any case, I need to thank her in person for introducing me to the bae.”

Jack’s ‘bae ‘is Jasmine, a girl that goes to my highschool that Ava apparently set Jack up with, at the same party she accidentally got high at…

“Don’t forget we’re still going to go see her when it’s her shift at the kissing booth later.” He said.

Turns out that Jasmine’s grandmother used to be an heiress and is part of the ‘Society.’ She wanted her granddaughter to be a debutante and as a result Jasmine is here today volunteering to help out with the booths, as are the rest of this year’s ‘society’ girls.

“Jack, I’ll buy tickets and wait in the line with you but I don’t think I actually want to go through with it.” I told him.

“Oh come on, don’t be boring man! It’s for charity anyway and nothing bad can come out of getting a kiss from a beautiful ‘society’ girl.” He winked at me as we stopped at the soccer hit-the-target game.

“How about this, if I beat you at this game,” I grinned, gesturing towards the game, “I don’t have to buy any tickets and I’ll just wait for you on the other side.”

“Nope, no deal. That is not fair, you’re a dead-shot and you know it. Plus, I had a foot injury before and I’m not about to injure it again!” Jack protested.

“You broke your toe when we were 10, it’s not going to break again by kicking a soccer ball.” I countered.

Looking around us Jack stopped and spotted the line of little kids queuing up to play the game.

“Hey there buddy,” He said amiably as he crouched down to talk to a boy about 5 year old who was wearing a red soccer uniform, “what’s your name?”

“Sam,” replied the boy as he wiped his nose with his hand. He was a really cute kid with shaggy brown hair and puppy dog eyes.

“Well Sam, I’m Jack and me and my friend Ryan here were wondering if,” Jack started to ask.

“Jack what are you doing?” I questioned, confused about what he was planning to do.

“If you would like to play a game against us big boys, would you like that?” Jack continued enthusiastically.

“What do I get if I win?” Sam asked tentatively.

“We’ll buy you a snow-cone?” Jack proposed.

“Ok!” Sam agreed enthusiastically as his whole face lit up and he started jumping up and down excitedly.

Jack then turned to where I was standing with my arms crossed and he grinned triumphantly at me,
“You score higher than this little kid, and you have to buy a ticket and kiss a girl, on the lips. You can’t back out.” He said, trying not to laugh.

I just took a deep breath and sighed. Jack knew I would never be able to beat this little kid. It was obvious that Sam loved soccer and he was confident in his abilities, and I wasn’t about to selfishly crush his self-esteem. I couldn’t do that to him, his eyes looked so hopeful.

“I’m gonna beat you mister!” He giggled animatedly.

“Alright Sam, I’m a little bit worried though because I’m not very good at soccer,” I said, trying to sound nervous.

“That’s ok because I’m really really good, my coach told me so!” He said as he took hold of my sleeve and pulled me towards where the targets were set up.

As you could have predicted, Sam won, and I was now obligated to buy not 1, but 2 kissing booth tickets because Jack told Sam we should have a re-match.

I guess it was worth it seeing how happy Sam was after winning twice.

“Don’t worry Ryan,” He had said when he came up to me after Jack bought him a snowcone, “I didn’t use to be good, but I practiced a lot! You’re not bad, you just need to practice more, you’ll see!”

“Let’s go dude, its 12 o’clock and Jasmine’s shift starts now,” Said Jack as he slung his arm over my shoulder, “and you’ve got some girls to kiss.” He taunted.

_______________________________________________________________

As you might expect, the line for the Kissing Booth was one of the longest and we we’re going to have to wait another 10 minutes.

It was a partially covered booth, hidden inside a marquee which meant you couldn’t see the girls inside until you got closer.

I really didn’t want to do this. I felt uncomfortable about the idea of kissing someone you’ve never met, let alone have feelings for. It would be even more awkward if it turns out that I have met them before!

How would I face them afterwards? I’m not the kind of guy that can just brush off something like a kiss so casually; I can’t forget these kinds of things easily.

And what happens if I enjoy the kiss?  The thought of kissing someone other than–
It just feels like betrayal.

What am I even doing here, waiting in this line to get a kiss that I had to pay for, even if it is for charity. We’ve moved up about ¾ of the line but there’s still time to convince Jack to let me back out of this. I know he’s just trying to help but I still haven’t gotten over-

 “Hey Ryan isn’t that Ava?” 

I was jolted back into reality as Jack elbowed me painfully in the ribs.

No, it couldn’t be. There’s no reason why she would be at this fête, she isn’t a debutante…

But as I looked up and peered into the marquee, there she was staring back at me, equally as shocked as I was.

‘What was she doing here? In the kissing booth no less!’  I thought as my brain began to scramble.

“Jasmine! Over here bae!” Jack called out loudly, waving his arms around enthusiastically.

Jasmine was first in the row of 5 girls while Ava was last. I saw her half-smile at me, and she gave me a small wave.

Even that was enough to make my heart skip a beat.

I really hated, that Brad now spent more time with her than I did. That at times when I really wanted to see her face, to hear her voice, I couldn’t, but Brad just turns up at her house and they end up going to home depot to buy paint for his room. Yet another thing my brother can do but I can’t; it just makes me feel so frustrated and then annoyed at myself for feeling so irritated.

I thought he was just playing around before, but I think he’s starting to get serious about her…

‘Stop, snap out of it Ryan!’ I thought as willed away the bitter feeling that made me feel heavy and my chest tighten.

Maybe I’m just over-reacting; I didn’t get to say much to Ava this week, even though she came over almost every day. Finally seeing her here today is sending me into overdrive.

‘Can you get withdrawal symptoms because of a person?’  I thought irrationally.

Oh great, the line is moving forward fast, I’ll be next after just a few more guys.

 I could hear the sound of my heart in my eyes, beating harder and faster as I got closer.

She looks so different today, so elegant and regal. Everything about her spoke of royalty.

First of all I never thought I’d ever see her wearing pink.
Pale pink, the delicate hue that ballerinas wear.
Her dress was modest and clean cut, but the fabric was such that it clung flatteringly to every curve of her body.

And her hair, her untamed, softly curled hair fell luxuriously about her shoulders, blowing gently in the breeze, while many of the other girls had their hair pulled back tight or pinned up.

“You see anyone you like?” Jack asked teasingly as he waved a hand on front of my face.

“What? Uh I’ll decide when I get closer.” I mumbled unintelligibly.

The truth is that I hadn’t paid any attention to the other girls next to her (they honestly all looked the same), my gaze had unconsciously travelled to where she stood behind the wooden booth.

She just… she just naturally stands out of the crowd, wherever she goes.

Or at least to me anyway.

Jack and I were now in the group that was next in line.

Unfortunately, that meant I had to watch her kiss the guy before me.

A tight, visceral knot began to form in the pit of my stomach as I watched this stranger go in for the kiss, eyes closed, mouth open and tongue hanging out.

‘Of the 5 girls working the booth he had to pick her….’ I thought vehemently.
When did I become so jealous? When did I get to the point that I’m resentful of every guy that even so much as looks at her the wrong way?

But Ava could protect herself. Evidently she wasn’t too impressed either, by the disgusted look on her face. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as I watched her clamp his mouth shut and jerk his head to the side so she could kiss his cheek instead.

He wasn’t too happy about it but one look at Ava’s stony expression, one eyebrow raised just daring him to go against her, and he turned, skulking out of the tent.

“We’re up man!” Jack exclaimed, patting me on the back before racing over to Jasmine before any of the other guys could.

Crap she’s looking at me as if she wants me to come over to her. No, that can’t be right, is it just wishful thinking?

I was so preoccupied with watching her that I forgot to try and back out of this before it was too late.

I briefly glanced at the other girls before her, but none of them interested me remotely.

I couldn’t avoid Ava even if I wanted to; the 3 guys in front of me already pushed and shoved to get to girls 2, 3 and 4.

Which just left her…for me.

What am I going to do?!

_______________________________________________________

AVA’S POV

Just why didn’t it ever occur to me that Ryan might come to the kissing booth? And worse, that he would come here wanting to kiss one of the beautiful ‘society’ girls but instead have to end up with me.

“Hey” he said to me briefly as he approached the booth.

“Hi,” I replied, apparently the most intelligent thing I could muster.

“What are you doing here?” he said gesturing around to the whole fête, “I wouldn’t think you’d willingly be part of the ‘Society’?”

“I’m not,” I laughed, “I’m just covering for someone.” I explained casually, “The girl who’s supposed to be here pulled out yesterday and Brad said he couldn’t find anyone else so last minute and…well here I am.”

I saw his jaw twitch at the mention of Brad and I wondered what Ryan thought of him. As far as I knew, neither Brad nor their parents had told Ryan the real reason for his brother’s sudden return.

“I, uh, didn’t think you’d spot me so easily. I tried to blend in.” I joked as I gestured to my newly acquired prim and proper young lady look. I felt so…girly. And I’m embarrassed to admit it, but in a way, I kind of liked it. It reminded me of those naïve, rose-coloured days when I had dreamt of being a prima ballerina...

A small grin appeared briefly on his face as he cast his eyes downwards bashfully, “You stand out from a mile away Sweetheart.”

I opened my mouth to make a witty comeback about how I fit in just fine but I stopped half-way, realising he’d just called me Sweetheart.

He schooled his expression immediately as he apologised “Sorry, it’s a habit.“

“It’s ok, I still like it.” I said, the words tumbling out before I even knew I was saying. Shit did that make me sound desperate? You are desperate for him…

He blushed, and I found that my heart soared to know that I still had that effect on him.

But his face suddenly fell.

“Here are my kiss cards,” He said plainly as he then slotted the pair of tickets through the cut out of the cardboard box used to collect them, “But you don’t have to kiss me.  Jack roped me into this and I didn’t plan on actually going through with it once I got to the booth.” He explained.

‘Was he saying that now because he found out I was stationed here?’  Iwondered insecurely.

“Are you sure?” I asked, “You bought two tickets and you waited for ages in that line,”

“It’s okay, I really wasn’t going to go through with it even when I didn’t know you were here.” He said quickly.

‘What was that supposed to mean? ‘ I thought dejectedly as my brow furrowed  in confusion.

“Oh, well I guess I can understand why you wouldn’t want to kiss me…” I mumbled, trying not to sound hurt.  I knew I probably made it uncomfortable for him to be around me, as much as I had tried to make things go back to the way they were.

We could never go back to being just friends.

“No! It’s not that I don’t__ I do, I…really want to kiss you actually. But I don’t think it’s fair to force you to do something you don’t want to.” He amended, looking adorably flustered over my misunderstanding. Geez was it normal that my heart swelled so much to hear that he still wanted me, even if it was just a little bit?

He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, but gone were the flashy clothes he wore when he modelled for Anastasia, replaced by a light blue, ¾ sleeve fine-check shirt tucked into khaki chinos. He looked more like the real him; the Ryan I liked best.

“Ryan it’s fine, it’s for charity.” I smiled reassuringly, “I won’t turn you down for a good cause.”

I put on a calm and collected façade despite the butterflies going crazy in my stomach.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand uncertainly as he deliberated.

“…I guess it is for charity right?” he finally said, a small pink blush blooming on his cheeks.

My heart rate shot through the roof. He was going to kiss me. And I wanted him to.
‘So much for an ‘uneventful’ day…’ I thought, but honestly I wasn’t really complaining at all.

“Whenever you’re ready.” I told him more confidently than I felt inside, as I leant forward in anticipation as my eyelids fluttered shut.

I felt him lean in close as the warmth emanating from his face and the soft sound of his breathing made my entire body tingle with anticipation.

Sparks flew like fireworks as the lips I’d been longing for pressed themselves ever so softly to mine, sending frissons of pleasure all the way down to the tips of my toes.

The slow, tentativeness with which his lips moved was agonising; everything around us began to cease to matter to me and with each passing moment, I was struggling not to let my self-control slip up.

The atmosphere between us gradually became more and more charged with an inexplicable energy as the urgency of the kiss began to build, and I was overcome by the urge to touch him, to take his face into my hands, wrap my arms around him and hold him close.  
But I didn’t act on it; I didn’t know how he’d react…

And then it was over.

He was the one to break away, breathing as shakily as I was as our faces remained lingering just an inch apart.

“That’s one,” I said breathlessly as I opened my eyes, surprised at how close together our bodies were despite the thin barrier of decorated wooden boards that separated us.  “You can kiss me again, or choose one of the other girls…” I explained, giving him the chance to kiss one of the ‘society’ girls like he probably wanted to in the first place.

My chest tightened uncomfortably at the thought of watching him kiss any girl other than me. ‘Ugh what is with me today?’  I thought self-critically. Jealousy is an ugly emotion that I’d rather not have to experience, and it wasn’t fair to Ryan either if it was his choice.  
I’ve got to stop being so childish, Ryan can do what he likes and I don’t have the right to compromise that because of a little crush.  Ok fine, I admit it’s way more than just a crush…

“If it’s alright with you,” He said, his voice all low and husky as his gaze flickered to my lips, “I’d like to kiss you again.”

Thank God.  I thought with an internal sigh of relief as the butterflies in my stomach went crazy with happiness.

I couldn’t help but smile elatedly up at him; at that moment I was incapable of hiding how I felt.

I saw surprise and a hint of confusion register in Ryan’s eyes at my reaction but before he could say anything more, I took his face into my hands and eagerly brought our lips together again.

All at once his lips parted responsively and I shivered as I kissed him boldly.

I could have stopped it there; after all, we weren’t given instructions as to how long each kiss was meant to last and a kiss that lasted a second was equal to one that lasted a minute as far as charity was concerned.

But ‘F*ck it all’ I thought. If this was possibly the last kiss I would get to have with Ryan, I was going to make it count.

I felt his initial shock, the way he tensed up for a second, and fear gripped me at the thought that maybe I’d gone too far.
But then I felt the warmth of his hands on my waist, pulling me closer to him, holding me intimately as I arched towards him. I felt him shiver as my fingers at the nape of his neck grazed the lobes of his ears, his kisses became almost ravenous as he stopped holding back.

I felt intoxicated with euphoria, and I didn’t want it to stop.

Too long had I been deprived of this feeling, this ambiguous, beautiful, warm sensation that bloomed full in my chest; a feeling I only ever remember experiencing when kissing Ryan.

With heady, laboured breaths I was on the brink of being too far gone, too blissful with the situation I currently found myself in to care if people were watching or staring, whether they thought I fit in with the other ‘well-bred young ladies’ or not.

Here I was, trying so hard to be good but Ryan made me want to do such wicked things to him, I couldn’t help being bad. Running my tongue daringly over his lower lip I felt a bolt of desire shoot through me as I elicited an almost inaudible groan from him. But before I could figure out whether his response was one of pleasure and surprise, or shock and disgust, his mouth was abruptly ripped from mine.

“Ok buddy, I know you like kissing your GIRLFRIEND but you can kiss her all you want later,” Jack said deliberately loudly, before quietly whispering so only we could hear,  “Some guys in the line are starting to get impatient and it’s not worth getting involved with them.”  
He then proceeded to drag a dazed and confused Ryan out of the booth marquee by the back of his shirt collar.

“Um, uh I’ll see you later Ava,” he managed to say before disappearing out of sight.

“Uhuh,” I mumbled unintelligibly as my hormone flooded brain mourned the loss of his lips.

With eyes still hooded and hazy, and slightly swollen lips, I stared blankly after him before my brain started working properly again.

‘What have I done?’ I thought worriedly as thoughts of the consequences of my actions flooded my mind. ‘I’ve just gone and made things even more complicated between us than they ALREADY were!’

I didn’t want to give him false hope, it was cruel, it was selfish. I am so selfish, so caught up in what I wanted in the heat of the moment that I didn’t even think about what might be going on in his mind.

He was a long-term relationship kind of boy and I don’t know how to do long-term. He’s the type to talk about his feelings when I don’t even know how to make sense of my emotions. All I know is that he’s my rock, one of my best friends, he’s so important to me and I can’t afford to lose that. Everything is just way less complicated between friends. Friends for life? Great I can do that, look at me and Rose.

But liking the same person and feeling the same way forever? Every guy I’ve ever dated has never been in it for the long run. I can see it in their eyes when they spot a new toy to play with so I dump them before I can get hurt. It works, the system has always worked. I keep my guard up, I’m straightforward when the fling starts, if it doesn’t work out I’m blunt when I end things. If I dump and never get dumped, I don’t get hurt.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, I have never shed tears over a boy; the ones I’ve dated weren’t worth crying over.

I hate feeling weak or powerless, vulnerable. I like knowing what’s going to happen and being in control of my life. But with this grey area of a relationship I have with Ryan? I know the things he would want out of the relationship, I know he would throw himself into it completely but I don’t know if these feelings we have will change and I just can’t be vulnerable…I don’t know how to be.

These insecurities, flaws I would rather ignore, were not fair.

I just want Ryan to be happy, but the irony of it all is that his happiness foolishly rides on the fact that he thinks I can give it to him, while I feel the only way to truly do that, is if I let him go.

Let me repeat something I’ve told you once before. In a game of truth or dare, I will always pick ‘dare.’ I like dares, they’re fun; people think they are risky but if you plan them out so carefully in your mind that your muscles tense with the thoughts of the exact way to execute it, if you account for all possible outcomes and consequences, then you essentially know what will happen. You have an element of control to your advantage.

I’ve been told I’m spontaneous, and I would agree to an extent. I often decide to do things quickly, but ‘quickly’ doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about the consequences at all. I have. Just, well, extremely fast.

But spontaneity seems frivolous; decisions made about things that don’t really matter that much in the grand scheme of things. The consequences, do not have a great or lasting impact.

Risks do.

It’s risks that hurt. And it’s risks that I hate. Especially when there is so much to lose…

But it’s not Ryan who is the risk, it’s me. 
And by the same token, I would be the one to put our relationship at risk of falling apart.

I don’t know if I’m ready to take that plunge, I don’t know if I can risk losing him.

…

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice the line had moved along, until someone rudely snapped their fingers in my face.

“Hey there sexy, pucker up, I paid $10 and I intend to get my money’s worth.” My face fell as the next sleaze-ball guy in line demanded my attention. I barely managed to plaster a fake smile on my face, the only thing keeping it there was my vivid imagination of giving him his money’s worth of PAIN.

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Hey guys! There you have it, the 1st big chapter of several more to come!
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment, vote, follow, message me, whatever you like! I'd really like to know what you guys think!

I'm on holidays now so hopefully the next chapter will be up soon! Let's say next week?

Take care and good luck for your exams to all of you that have them!

Cerise xx :)