After our make out session, I return my focus to Christian's scrapbook. I flip through the pages slowly, and smile and laugh at some of the moments his parents captured. I point to the ones that draw my eye, and smile as I ask about the story behind the picture.

My current focus is a picture of Christian at about the age of seven, and he's squinting against the sunlight while holding a toad in his hands. His cheeks are dirty and his shirt has smears of dried mud, and his hair is dark with crusted mud as well. And just over his shoulder, I can see his brother, Michael crouching on the back of his heels while he pokes at something with a stick.

I lightly laugh at the picture, and point at it as I ask, "Do you remember this day?"

Christian leans forward over my shoulder and silently studies the picture for a moment, and then he laughs, like he suddenly knows what day it was taken. He sighs and points at his brother as he says, "Michael wanted to play outside, and the day before it had rained really hard. We were playing in the back yard with our Nerf guns when Michael spotted a toad, and decided he wanted to catch it. So we chased it around in the mud for at least an hour, getting ourselves all muddy until I was finally able to catch it."

"Our Mom had come outside to tell us lunch was ready, and saw the mess we had created. She was mad at us at first, and then she took the picture, and every time she sees it she can't help but laugh as she remembers me sitting in the muddy yard with a toad in my hands," Christian says with a chuckle of his own.

I smile and peek up at Christian as I reply, "That sounds like it was a really fun day . . ."

Christian smiles and flips to the next page as he sighs, "It was." And then he rests his chin on my shoulder and gently winds an arm around my waist, while he looks back on his childhood memories from over my shoulder. I feel my cheeks heat up at his closeness, but I ignore the tingles of desire as my eyes drift back to the scrapbook.

"What about this day?" I ask as I point to another picture of Christian holding his brother's hand, while they both wear matching yellow raincoats.

Christian sighs and his warm breath hits the side of my neck as he replies, "I think that was my first day of second grade, it had started to rain and my mom wanted a picture of us before we got onto the bus."

My nerves send tingles of pleasure throughout my body when his warm breath hits along the side of my neck, and I shiver as I shakily point to another picture. "And-and this one?" I stammer as I point to a picture of Christian and Michael surrounded around a glass tank, with their little hands on the glass, blocking the view.

Christian chuckles. "Oh, this one! This is Michael's eleventh birthday, and he wanted a pet. Inside the tank is his first ever chameleon dragon, that he named Steven."

I laugh. "Your brother named his chameleon dragon, Steven?"

Christian chuckles as he replies, "Michael claimed his chameleon looked like a Steven, but don't ask me why."

I snicker as I flip to the next page, and after awhile my eye lids grow too heavy to keep them open, and with a deep yawn my body sinks back against Christian's chest. He gently brushes my hair back from my face as he softly asks, "Should I take you home now? It's getting late . . ."

I sigh and slowly blink my eyes open as I ask, "What time is it?"

"Nearly ten o'clock," Christian mutters as he slides off his bed and walks to his closet. He pulls on a gray hoodie and walks back to help me to my feet.

I smile tiredly at him and mumble, "I want to finish looking at the photo album, so don't lose it."

Christian playfully rolls his eyes and responds, "Beau, I know my room is messy, but I've never lost anything. So don't worry, the book will be here for you when you decide to look at it again."

"Good."

Christian smiles and grabs my hand, and softly says, "Come on, let's take you home . . ."

I yawn again and grab my backpack as Christian takes my hand, and helps lead me down the stairs since my sudden exhaustion has made me heavy footed and clumsy. My eyes are nearly impossible to keep open, but I manage, and then Christian is driving me home and kissing me goodnight.

Everything is a blur, all I remember is sitting on his bed looking though his photo album, and then there was a lot of furious wind blowing in my face before my body was suddenly surrounded by the heavenly softness of my mattress. I fall asleep with dreams of playing in mud, and chasing chameleon dragons named Steven.

+  +  +

The next morning when I wake up, my body is heavy from sleep. I lay in bed while I watch the sun slowly rise above the trees to kiss the clouds, and a single thought drifts through my mind.

It's Saturday.

I smile to myself as I slowly roll to the edge of my bed, and pull the blanket off my legs before padding to my bathroom. I take a quick shower and get myself ready for the day, and then I head downstairs and greet my mom for the morning. She's sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning paper, and stirring her tea with a spoon.

She smiles when she sees me, dressed and ready for the new day, and asks, "Do you have plans today, honey?"

I nod as I open the fridge and pull out the milk, I grab a bowl and the box of Cheerios cereal as I reply, "Yeah, Christian and I are going to the bowling alley with our friends from school."

My mom nods and asks, "When do you plan on going?"

"Um, Christian sent me a text when I got out of the shower. He told me he'd pick me up around ten," I say as I pour my cereal and add the milk, before putting the cereal box back in the cabinet and the milk in the fridge.

"You know, the bowling alley doesn't open until noon. What are Christian and you going to do until then?" my mom asks curiously.

I bite my bottom lip unsurely and reply, "I'm not sure, maybe we'll hang out here or go back to his house . . ." I trail off.

Why is Christian picking me up so early? I wonder. And then I gasp as I think, He better not be planning on making me ride his damn motorcycle! I'll kill him.

"Well, what ever you decide to do, just be safe," my mom says, as if reading my mind.

I smile nervously and reply, "Of course!" And then to avoid any more conversation, I begin to eat my cereal, and let my eyes wander around the room.

Christian better not be planning what I think he's planning.... I think as I mechanically eat my breakfast. I'll beat him up, if he is.

Word count: 1,241

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A/N: Hello, lovelies! How did you like the chapter? If you vote, comment, and share with your friends I just might think about posting a picture of myself . . . I've been thinking about that for a while now, but let's say this story has to reach 400 comments first because that is the best thing to wake up to. 😁

So with that said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! What do you think Christian has planned for the next chapter? 🤔 😄 I guess you'll just have to find out. Thank you for reading, have an amazing day/night!

Love from,
BunnyBaekkiee ❤️