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Sparking the Fire

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Kate Meader

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“Happy birthday,” he whispered, his breath landing warm and suddenly close to my lips, making my insides flip. And just as quickly as he’d surprised me with the cake, he kissed me, one frosting-covered hand moving from my hair to the back of my neck, the other solid and warm in the small of my back, pressing us together, my chest against his ribs, my hip bones just below his, the tops of our bare summer legs hot and touching. I stopped breathing. My eyes were closed and his mouth tasted like marzipan flowers and clove cigarettes, and in ten seconds the whole of my life was wrapped up in that one kiss, that one wish, that one secret that would forever divide my life into two parts. Up, down. Happy, sad. Shock, awe. Before, after. In that single moment, Matt, formerly known as friend, became something else entirely. I kissed him back. I forgot time. I forgot my feet. I forgot the people outside, waiting for us to rejoin the party. I forgot what happens when friends cross into this space. And if my lungs didn’t fill and my heart didn’t beat and my blood didn’t pump without my intervention, I would have forgotten about them, too. I could have stayed like that all night, standing in front of the sink, Matt’s black apple hair brushing my cheeks, heart thumping, lucky and forgetful…”

“Do you wonder why we wander?” Cal had asked. It was the night of the first snow; you could hear the branches bending and the icicles falling outside the window, beyond the wall. They were warmth together. They were hot breath and blankets and wrapping themselves close. And Elijah had thought, I wonder why I never kiss you. I wonder what would happen. But he didn't say anything out loud.”

“Don’t ask where I got this idea, because I couldn’t tell you, but I knew precisely where we were going, and I was sure that this might officially make me a slut. But when we reached the door of the unused janitor’s closet, I had no feeling of shame… not yet, at least. I grasped the doorknob and noticed Wesley’s eyes narrow with suspicion. I yanked open the door, checked that no one was watching, and gestured for him to go inside. Wesley walked into the tiny closet, and I followed, shutting the door stealthily behind us. “Something tells me this isn’t about The Scarlet Letter,” he said, and even in the dark I knew he was grinning. “Be quiet.” This time he met me halfway. His hands tangled in my hair and mine clawed at his forearms. We kissed violently, and my back slammed against the wall. I heard a mop-or maybe a broom-topple over, but my brain barely registered the sound as one of Wesley’s hands moved to my hip, holding me closer to him. He was so much taller than me that I had to tilt my head back almost all the way to meet his kiss. His lips pressed hard against mine, and I let my hands explore his biceps. The smell of his cologne, rather than the lonely, stale air of the closet, filled my senses. We wrestled in the darkness for a while before I felt his hand insistently lifting the hem of my T-shirt. With a gasp, I pulled away from the kiss and grabbed his wrist. “No… not now.” “Then when?” Wesley asked in my ear, still pinning me to the wall. He didn’t even sound winded. I, on the other hand, struggled to catch my breath. “Later.” “Be more specific.” I squirmed out of his arms and moved toward the door, nearly tripping over what felt like a bucket. I raised a hand to flatten my wavy hair and reached for the doorknob. “Tonight. I’ll be at your house around seven. Okay?” But before he could answer, I slipped out of the closet and hurried down the hall, hoping it didn’t look like a walk of shame.”

“Let's get out of here. You and me, mi amor. !Vamos!" I breathe a sigh of relief as I straddle Julio and Brittany hops on behind me. She wraps her arms around my waist, holding on tight as I speed out of the parking lot. We fly through the streets; which eventually become a blur. I don't even stop when rain starts pouring down. "Can we stop now?" she yells through the deafening storm. I park under an old abandoned bridge by the lake. Heavy rain pounds the cement surrounding us, but we have our own secluded place. Brittany hops to the ground. "You're a stupid jerk," she says. "You can't deal drugs. It's dangerous and stupid, and you promised me. You'll risk going to jail. Jail, Alex. You may not care, but I do. I won't let you ruin your life." "What do you want to hear?" "Nothing. Everything. Say something so I don't stand here feeling like a complete idiot." "The truth is . . . Brittany, look at me." "I can't," she says as she stares at the pouring rain. "I'm so tired of thinking of every scary scenario." I pull her against me. "Don't think, muneca. Everything will work itself out." "But--" "No buts. Trust me." My mouth closes over hers. The smell of rain and cookies eases my nerves. My hand braces the small of her back. Her hands grip my soaked shoulders, urging me on. My hands slide under her shirt, and my fingers trace her belly button. "Come to me," I say, then lift her until she's straddling me over my bike. I can't stop kissing her. I whisper how good she feels to me, mixing Spanish and English with every sentence. I move my lips down her neck and linger there until she leans back and lets me take her shirt off. I can make her forget about the bad stuff. When we're together like this, hell, I can't think of anything else but her.”

“At that very first kiss of my life I felt something melt inside me that hurt in an exquisite way. All my longings, all my dreams and sweet anguish, all the secrets that slept deep within my limbic brain came awake. I felt billions of Beach Boys playing their sweet melody inside my heart in perfect harmony with the universe.”

“Yes. Kissing. Overrated." "I could change your mind," Zach said, surprising the hell out of them both. Why would he take something as simple as this banter as a challenge? "I don't know that I want to, but I feel right sure I could." "How arrogant. How typically male." "I suppose." He shrugged and reached for the wine bottle. "More?" She nodded, frowning now. "How do you know you could change my mind? It's been a long time since you... well—" "Over two years." The pain was there, an ache in his chest he imagined he would feel every time he thought of Hannah. And he thought of her every day. Dreamed of her about as often. But lately, maybe only in the past week, he'd begun to realize that his life had not ended with his wife's. He either had to die or start living again.”

“Aleana wasn’t sure she was dreaming but she had some inkling that it might not be fully real. She tried to break through the mental fog she felt, but the vision of Ursula drew her back into the dream. She was truly beautiful and a welcome sight. Aleana gently grasped Ursula’s waist and pulled her down harder, while her lips claimed kiss after sensual kiss from the beauty’s pastel pink lips.”

“Angel slowly closed her door then sighed as she leaned against it feeling the sudden loss of her new love leaving for a while which they forgot to exchange on, and they have a positive outcome. Soon as Angel got up from the door, her doorbell rang she was hoping it was just Jana coming back again for something else, but when she looked at the peephole she saw it was Scarlett so she sighed and unlocked her door saying, "What do you need Scarlett? We broke up a long time ago." Scarlett pushed Angel inside, and they both landed on the couch as Scarlett kissed her long and hard as Angel try to shove her off then once she pushed her off saying, "What do you want Scarlett?" Scarlett gave a sweet smile replying, "I want you back of course baby, you are my world I realize that." Angel shoved her out of the apartment replying, "Get the heck out of here and never come back, you found love in someone else and so have I, so get out, GET OUT!”